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Prep-Tools Part I: Campaign and Adventure Planning


This entry is part 2 of 14 in the series GM Toolbox
GM Toolbox

What tools go into your GM toolbox?

Written by Michael Beck, with contributions and editing by Da’Vane.

GM’s Toolbox, looks at tools, tips, and techniques you can use to improve your games. Toolbox offers you a skeleton for running a campaign, rather than fleshed out tips. This series is presented in a discussion style, and we ask you to contribute with comments about your own tools, tips, and techniques at the end of this post.

Preparation tools are maybe the most important tools at the GM’s disposal. In part I of prep-tools, we cover campaign and adventure planning, which enable the GM to define the stories being told in the game.

Campaign Planning (Long Story Arcs)

With this tool, you are able to create long story arcs that span over many sessions, or may even be open-ended. It provides you with an underlying story, often with a big stake that is normally sharp enough for your players to see the overall story, but flexible enough to allow side-adventures to be easily added and avoid railroading.

Following this tool will make it easy for you to plan the next adventure.

Michael: I currently run a Cthulhu campaign called Horror in the Orient Express. This is a published campaign, coming in four nice volumes. So for this campaign, the books are obviously my campaign planning tool.

For a previous campaign, I adopted the dramatic structure of theatre. Just by defining how many adventures you want to put in each act, I set up how long the campaign will last.

Having such a plan at hand helped ensure each session propelled the campaign towards its end.

One word to open-ended campaigns: It may seem tempting, but in my opinion there is a huge disadvantage: it’s open-ended. It’s hard, if not impossible, to achieve a structure like above. There is no big battle at the end.

In short, it will never end, and if it is not ending in a planned way, it will end in another usually less satisfying way: GM burnout, group-splitting, or change of system.

Da’ Vane: The structure of the campaign itself can have a significant impact upon a game, much like different formats in film and TV.

A campaign can be planned with a large over-arching plot or back-story, giving the PCs a series long-term goal to fulfil as they discover what is going on, what they have to do about it, and then race towards the inevitable climax.

Alternatively, a campaign might adopt a more episodic format, where every adventure is self-contained and there are few ties between each adventure and episode, other than sharing the same cast of characters.

This might be more suitable for a game that features the PCs moving around a lot and exploring new things, rather than taking place in a few locations that the PCs can become familiar with.

Both types can be mixed together as well. A few one-off adventures mixed in with a longer-term plot. The one-off adventures are great for enabling PC goals that may not be critical to the larger plot, but still add to the story.

If you want a shorter dramatic structure for your larger plots, you might want to consider a revised Three Act Structure. Traditionally, the revised version has the second act include a plot twist, often as the antagonists react towards to protagonists’ efforts in the first act. It’s simple, but it works.

Johnn: Another great tool for story planning is the Goal Reversal & The 9-Act Format. For sandbox adventures, I agree with Michael’s advice in some cases. But if you do want an open-ended campaign, here is a great series on fantasy and Traveller sandbox structure.

Adventure Planning (Medium Story Arcs)

It is hard to imagine a GM who is not using a tool to plan adventures. This tool provides you with an adventure you can played in one or more sessions.

You may have different tools for different types of adventures: puzzle based (investigations), event based, location based (dungeons). This tool should provide you a hook and the adventure structure at minimum.

Further good extras are:

  • Possibilities for side-adventures to avoid railroading
  • Can be centred around the PC
  • Being open in the sense that you can easily place it in your world
  • Provide you hooks for new adventures or a natural way for a sequel
  • Possibilities for twists
  • Being open in the sense you can easily alter the adventure if necessary

Michael: Currently, I run three different groups and use three different tools. I’ve already told you about the Cthulhu campaign. The mixed location and event-based adventures are given by the book that the campaign is being run from.

The second group is a D&D group in a self-invented world. Here the adventures rely strongly on exploration of that world, and the basic tool is the world itself with its aspects.

For every aspect of that world I have a list of a few one-sentence adventure seeds, and I couple that with the big list of RPG plots.

The third group is a Savage Worlds – Sundered Skies group (if the D&D can’t take place). As this group is only for replacing D&D-sessions, I need short one-shot adventures here. The sourcebook gives some nice adventure creation-tables, which provides me with short but still different adventure structures. Watching the Firefly television series also helped here a lot.

Da’ Vane: I would be a fool if I didn’t mention the D-Jumpers series that I publish over at DVOID Systems, which is the epitome of an adventure planning tool. Being system agnostic, they focus on the ideas and structures to provide adventures of any length, in the multi-genre trans-dimensional design ethos that is D-Jumpers.

When it comes to adventure planning, I find the key details comes down to choices, and therefore you can always take the plot of anything you experience and enjoy, and think about the choices being made and how things could have been done differently.

Changing even just a few choices, along with some window dressing to fit your current campaign, can turn even the most well known and overdone storylines into unique plots that provide a great adventure.
Even if you don’t change anything, chances are your players and their PCs will do things differently, even when given the same conditions, just by virtue of being different characters.

Johnn: Over the years I have used a few different medium arc adventure planning tools. Unfortunately, these books are out of print, but you should be able to get them through used book channels.

A book you can still buy in PDF is Robin’s Law of Good Game Mastering. That offers a great chapter on adventure design.

Preparing Sessions (Short Story Arcs)

Every story can be split into smaller pieces, which are the individual sessions you are preparing as a GM.

The tool needed here sorts out the stuff you need to prepare right now from the stuff that can be left alone for at least one session.

Time is often a crucial thing here, as you don’t always want to read your entire set of adventure notes to see what you should bring to the gaming table this night.

Also, some idea of the overall structure can be beneficial to your session:

  • An opener to start the session and get the players right into gaming mode
  • Sequence of events (encounters, NPC Interactions, and other actions and tasks)
  • Cliff-hanger or resolution of a bigger chunk of the story at the end of the session

Michael: I like to use the “loopy session planning” described by Johnn in RPT#488 and add the above mentioned structures. For the Savage Worlds campaign, I also like the Adventure Ideas from the rule book and challenge my improvisational skills.

Da’ Vane: I prefer a more structured format to my sessions, largely because I like to include my session planning as part of my adventure planning. This way, all I have to do to plan a session is define exactly how much of an adventure I intend to run, and prepare the material that I don’t already have on hand.

If I can, I will try and get players to make decisions at the end of the session, rather than during it, since the outcome of the PCs reaction is often a rather potent cliff-hanger. This gives me time between sessions to prepare for decisions that may have caught me off-guard, and allows for the next session to start with the PCs discovering the outcome of their decisions, often with any relevant action to kick the session off to a good start.

Johnn: Published adventures, if you use those, often come with a structure and you just need to read the background, overview or summary, and part one or first few encounters.

I’d be remiss if I did not mention my ebook, 650 Fantasy City Encounter Seeds. Not so much about structure as ideas for your session’s encounters. To get the ebook, subscribe to the Roleplaying Tips newsletter, or download for free at RPGNow.

Investigation Planning

There is a scene where something happened. The PCs arrive some time afterwards and have to find hints and clues to investigate what happened here. As GM, you have to provide these hints to your players. An investigation planning tool gives you the hints to pass to the players.

These hints may be discovered by gathering evidence, having occurred long before the players entered the scene. The hints might also be acquired through improvisation and experimentation.

In addition, the tool gives you a nice overview, so you don’t forget hints or confuse whether the players already found a hint or not.

Michael: For creating hints beforehand, I try to imagine the scene as detailed as possible. If there is something happening, you almost always have some detail on something.

I also keep track of what moves there and where it stops. There was probably some kind of increasing entropy. These thoughts can lead to hints and clues.

The improvisational tool I use (and kind of rely on) are my players – when they start to investigate the scene, I just have to say “yes” at the right moment. Often, they have some ideas I never would have thought of.

I also need the advanced preparation tool, because sometimes all I get from my players is: “I got a 28 in Search. What have I found?” For keeping track of the clues, I’m quite satisfied with the one-sheet-mystery.

Da’ Vane: The key for a good investigation is logical information. In most cases, the PCs have a reason to investigate what happened at a scene, and these reasons will determine the sort of information and clues the PCs are hoping to find.

In most cases, this information should be useful, and thus should lead the PCs somewhere, even if it is to another location with more clues to uncover so they can find out more about what is going on.

If the PCs are investigating a murder, they will most likely be interested in the motivation and identity of the murderer to track them down. They may learn this from the nature of the attack, the murder weapon, or other clues such as who the victim was.

On the other hand, if the PCs are looking to find out other information, such as where and how a secret entrance might be located and operated, they will be looking for different information – signs of furniture being rearranged, strange breezes, or an space unaccounted for between this room and the next.

As a big fan of the espionage genre, this is something I am quite familiar with, and espionage games often provide a great deal of tools for this type of play which can easily be adopted.

Investigations are generally split into two, with the first half being the doing side of the investigation that involves gathering the information, in which case the GM should provide as much information as possible.

Johnn: A couple of articles from the RPT archives you will find useful:

Puzzle Planning

Puzzles can be a great benefit to your adventures. Getting puzzles can be a puzzle in itself. Your puzzle tool provides you with a puzzle that has to be solved in-game or out, and it defines the rules and the solution. It may also give you hints on solving the puzzle that you can give out to your players if they get stuck.

Michael: I personally don’t like much the idea of solving puzzles out of game as a metaphor for solving puzzles in-game, but you may disagree. So real-world puzzles can be a tool.

I like to use riddles and poems. There are a lot of pages on the net where you can find poems and search for poems with certain key words.

For example, if there is a poem about fire, there are certainly some lines in that poem describing fire without saying the word “fire”. I can then use fire for the solution and take these lines of the poem as a hint. However, overall I’m not the big puzzle-fan.

Da’ Vane: It is worth mentioning that puzzles come in many forms, and are not necessarily limited to riddles and word problems the PCs need to solve.

One of the most common types of puzzle encountered in roleplaying games is the murder mystery, or investigative adventure. It works by having the PCs follow a trail of clues through a series of locations to the end.

By obscuring the clues, and making the players think outside the box, these become actual puzzles rather than simple skill challenges.

Another trick that riddles and puzzles provide is using limited information or misrepresentation, combined with player preconceptions and assumptions, to hide what is otherwise an obvious fact.

This makes most puzzles a case of finding out the missing information – and it is the form of the puzzle that normally defines how the information is hidden and where the solver should look.

Often, puzzles are the second half of investigations, representing the thinking side of the investigation that involves finding and using the information, in which the GM should provide as little information as possible.

Johnn: Some great RPT resources for puzzling GMs:

Prep-Tools II and III

We hope you found this week’s toolbox a handy guide for helping you plan and build your game.
Next, In part II, we will cover encounter planning, which covers what the GM needs to prepare for actual play.

Going one step deeper, we also land at single encounters. The tools you use here should provide you with the details you need for playing out a certain scene or an encounter.

In part III, we will explore preparing and running NPCs in your games, to make your games feel more alive and realistic.

About the Authors

Michael Beck considers himself a novice GM, but is encouraged in sharing his tips at www.spielleiten.wordpress.com (German language). Having played RPGs for roughly 10 years now, he accepts the challenge of living with his girl-friend, two cats, a non-finished PhD-thesis and two running roleplaying campaigns.

Da’ Vane, or Christina Freeman in the real world, is the owner of DVOID Systems, and the primary writer of their D-Jumpers series of products. With an academic background in science, especially socio-psychology, she is what many would regard as a “know-it-all.” However, the truth is that she doesn’t know everything about everything, but she knows a lot about a lot, especially about her passions which are games, stories, learning, and people. She is a consummate geek goddess, and yes, she is single if you feel like tracking her down and hitting on her some time….

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Starting In The Middle


I have a friend, with whom I have gamed for many, many years, who has never read The Lord Of The Rings; he found the slow pace of The Fellowship Of The Ring so completely off-putting that he was never able to gather enough interest to finish the trilogy. I never had that problem – but I first read LOTR from my local library, and someone had borrowed the first volume and not returned it, so I started reading as Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas began chasing the Orcs who had captured Merry and Pippin. So I have to wonder – would I have found Tolkien’s epic fantasy as compelling if I had started at the beginning?

That’s not the only example that I can point to. I first came across the Belgariad – one of my favorite fantasy series – in a second-hand store, where parts 2 and 3 were on offer cheaply – so much so that I was willing to take a chance on the books. I enjoyed them greatly, and quickly sought out the rest of the set, and the sequel quadrilogy, the Mallorean as well. Plus Belgarath and Polgara in Hardcover. It was the scenes set in Vo Mimbre that really established my enjoyment of the series. But the Question remains, would I have enjoyed the series as much if I had started with the relatively pedestrian first volume?

And then there’s the Elenium/Tamuli double-trilogy, by the same authors. I had multiple opportunities to buy but the cover and blurb for The Diamond Throne repeatedly put me off – it sounded like a romance, not an adventure story. It was only when I was given a copy of The Shining Ones – the middle volume of the sequel trilogy, the Tamuli – for Christmas one year, and enjoyed it immensely, that I was interested enough to pick up the other five books. Even then, I found apon reading the preceding volume that much of the humor that I had so enjoyed in The Shining Ones was being read into the content by me, and was not actually part of the story as written by David and Leigh Eddings. I still enjoy the series (I’m re-reading it currently) but still experience a pang of disappointment whenever I come to one of those passages.

The common thread is that by starting in the middle, I was able to jump right into the action and figure out who the characters were as I went along. The tedium of the setup and establishing of characters and situations was bypassed.

Heck, if it comes to that, Star Wars started with Episode IV, and there are many other examples…

The James Bond movies have a before-the-credits action sequence as a standard part of their format, and it works.

So, what’s the RPG equivalent, how can GMs take advantage of it, and what are the pitfalls?

The Instant-Action Tease

Well, the obvious equivalence is throwing the PCs into a combat situation immediately, or just about so, without explanations for where it fits into the overall campaign or what its significance is and dropping dire hints as to that significance into the description of events. As the combat proceeds, the GM keeps careful notes as to where everyone is, what they are doing, what their condition is, anything important that is said, and anything else he needs to be able to recreate the events at a later date. When the battle reaches a crescendo or point of high drama – which the GM engineers if necessary – he interrupts it and takes the plot back in time to the initial meeting of the characters, the establishing of the Campaign Premise(s), and so on.

When the plot makes the encounter appropriate, the GM simply reiterates the events that he has logged, up to the point where it was interrupted, then lets the game carry on from that point.

Benefits

This gives the campaign a James-Bond style kick-start, gets everyone’s adrenalin pumping, and teases them with the hints as to the significance of what’s going on. With most difficult encounters, the question to be answered is “How do we get out of this one?”; such a kick-start adds the questions, “How did we get into this mess?” and “What’s it all mean?”

Pitfalls

But there are a couple of pitfalls in this approach to be wary of. The most serious is that the GM is committed to having events lead to the combat that was interrupted – and that can be difficult without creating plot trains. The best way of avoiding this particular problem is to ensure that the context of the encounter is undefined, or capable of multiple interpretations; this permits many plot roads to intersect at the critical point.

This is best achieved by being just a little vague about various aspects of the circumstances of the battle during the ‘Tease’. “You’re in the bottom of a pit, facing off against a giant with granite-like skin. Numerous minor cuts on your face and hands are bandaged and bloody. Make your attack rolls. [Pause for rolls] Your attacks bounce harmlessly off his armored skin. Someone yells ‘protect the Ice Crown’. The Giant snarls and raises his club and you see runes carved into its length in an unknown script – runes that are glowing blue-white with power…”

Notice all the things that aren’t stated explicitly: where the pit in question is located, how deep it is, why the characters are injured and not healed (given that they have a cleric in the party), what the Ice Crown is, who and what the Giant is, what its powers are, whether its the characters or the Giant who are instructed to ‘protect the Ice Crown’, and what the participants are fighting about. Are the PCs the Good Guys, the Bad Guys, someone else’s Pawns, or Innocent Bystanders?

There’s no context to explain these things, so it becomes much easier to match whatever context emerges in play with the battle description. The unanswered questions form a checklist of things for the GM to introduce before the battle can be restarted, a spur to his creativity. It can actually be easier if the GM has no idea what any of these things mean at the time, any more than the players do – provided the GM is confident of being able to devise explanations when the time comes, and it certainly avoids the plot train pitfall.

The Prophetic Peril

This procedure enables a GM to emulate the James Bond -style action Teasers, but we’re really looking to go beyond that and actually make the action-based introduction directly relevant to the campaign, without the cheating of building separate, semi-random elements into the plotline merely to justify the presence of those elements in the opening sequence.

Let’s be honest, then: what we are really talking about here is starting the campaign with a slightly-different form of prophecy. In my December 2009 article, “The Perils Of Prophecy: Avoiding The Plot Locomotive”, I offer a number of techniques on how to implement prophecies within a campaign while avoiding plot trains, but those techniques and most of that advice don’t apply to this particular type of prophecy. All the perils of prophecy within the campaign remain, unfortunately.

To resolve this problem, we need a new technique. The one suggested in the previous section is part of the solution, but is too anarchic to be the complete answer; we need a method of building direction into the plotline without building in a railroad.

The Elements Of The Encounter

The place to start is at the content of the initial encounter. Instead of a random collection of elements, we need to incorporate items that are intentionally relevant to the plot – in other words, lay down some railroad tracks. I know what you’re thinking at this point, bear with me!

  • Instead of a pit, we might need to choose a castle throne room because that’s where our bad guy is going to be based at the start of the campaign.
  • We might be able to keep the giant – if the bad guy’s early acts will get him control of one or more of these giants – but, if not, we will need to replace it/him with a more appropriate and equally fearsome enemy.
  • We might or might not be able to keep the club with runes on it – if that weapon is appropriate to the enemy we have chosen, or to the chief villain, or if magic and/or magical weaponry is going to be significant to the campaign.
  • …and so on.

That’s the key to getting this step right: making sure that every element of this battle is, or at least appears to be, appropriate to the campaign’s direction.

Blind chance is replaced with intentional relevance.

Derailing The Plot Train

Having laid very careful railroad tracks to validate the components of the action sequence, it’s time to derail the plot train that wants to run on them before it even gets going. Instead of the train tracks defining where the plot has to go, they are to serve as a navigational landmark, nothing more; the ONLY point at which the train tracks and the plot are required to intersect is at the moment that the battle commences.

I’ll say that again, for emphasis: the ONLY point at which the train tracks and the plot are required to intersect is at the moment that the battle commences.

How does this work in practice? The GM lets the game develop as usual, and one by one introduces the plot elements that justify the shape of the aborted battle. The players are perpetually free to interpret and act on these plot elements as they see fit; all the GM is concerned about, beyond running the game as usual, is ensuring that all the justification fundamentals are in place. Once that requirement is met, he simply needs to stay alert for an opportunity to ‘catch up’ with the combat.

If necessary, he can even cheat a little. The throne room within the castle might actually turn out to be a throne room somewhere else; the opponent might be initially disguised in some fashion as something else to avoid putting the PCs on their guard; and so on.

Avoiding Disaster

Whenever a GM attempts something fancy, there is always the risk of failure, and this “headlong rush into the action” is definitely on the fancy side; any serious misstep will transform the GMs attempted cleverness into an unmitigated disaster. The risk is commensurate with the rewards.

It follows that extra care and attention should be spent on avoiding those missteps if at all possible. Doing so is not difficult; all that’s required is to spend a little additional time prepping the adventure. There are four essential tasks in game prep that will collectively ensure that a catastrophic failure of the GMs designs is as unlikely as it is possible to achieve:

  • Check and recheck the connecting logic between the elements and their logical presence in the battle. If possible, have multiple ways to get from A to B.
  • Plan specific introductions – “cut scenes,” if you like – for each element and be sure you know how they relate to the battle.
  • Double-check that there are NO assumptions about how the PCs will react in any of the introductions or connecting logics that – if violated – would break the connection to the circumstances of the battle.
  • Craft descriptions for the various elements that are capable of more than one interpretation if necessary. Ensure that they are just a little vague and generic when used in the initial partial battle.

Use Prophecy As A Weapon

Not content with providing one semi-successful and one satisfactory solution to the problem, here’s a third to round out this article. I’ll present this solution in narrative form as an example is the clearest method of explaining it, but first a caveat: This involves some major precedents about various aspects of the campaign that might not fit what you have in mind; the answer offered should be customized to fit the GMs campaign concepts.

GM: “Welcome to the XXXX campaign. The unnatural fog swirls and begins to lift. You can see the granite walls of the room, broken occasionally by weapons mounted on the walls, stuffed animal heads, torches in brass fittings, and once-expensive tapestries. The shadow looming through the fog slowly resolves into a giant with rock-like skin. He looks at the numerous minor cuts and abrasions on your face and hands, and the bloody bandages that bind your wounds, and a slow smile splits his face. Make your attack rolls.”

[Pause for rolls]

“Your attacks bounce harmlessly off his armored skin. Someone yells ‘protect the Ice Crown’. The Giant snarls and raises a mighty two-handed sword festooned with sharpened protrusions and evil barbs. Runes carved down the blade begin to glow blue-white with power. As the fearsome blade begins its descent the crystal ball abruptly clouds over once again and goes Dark.

“The crystal reveals what might be, not what will be. The more certain the future, the greater the duration of the visions it provides,” explains the Witch. “There is no more; and as I told you before we began, once a scene has been viewed the spiritual signature that binds vision to subject is dissipated. No-one can show you more.”

In other words, Make the Prophetic Combat an actual Prophecy!

With this one change, there is only one plot element that has to be explained: ‘The Witch’. Explaining her role in the campaign and how it came to pass that she scried the PCs possible future should also explain why the PCs are together. Two or three minutes spent relating the appropriate backstory that covers these elements and the campaign is underway with a full head of steam. Assuming that the railroad tracks that you aren’t going to follow (see the previous section) are in at least moderate shape – they don’t have to be anywhere near as well-prepared as the previous solution requires – then everything is set to go, and it doesn’t matter if the PCs never actually have the encounter that kicked the campaign/adventure off.

So there you have it – three ways to jump straight into the action without railroading the players. It’s easier than you might think!

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GM’s Toolbox – Introduction


This entry is part 1 of 14 in the series GM Toolbox
GM Toolbox

What tools go into your GM toolbox?

This week we kick off a new series written by German RPG blogger, Michael Beck. GM’s Toolbox, looks at tools, tips, and techniques you can use to improve your games.

Toolbox offers you a skeleton for running a campaign, rather than fleshed out tips.

The series covers breaks GMing into four sections:

  • World Building: Creating a campaign world, locations, groups, relations, history and legends
  • Prep-Tools: Preparing for campaigns, gaming sessions, encounters, and NPCs
  • Running the Game: Keeping game flow smooth improving the player experience
  • Beyond the Game: Creating handouts, organising the sessions, and becoming a better GM

There’s a lot of ground to cover, because you as GM have a lot of responsibility. But being a GM is one of the most rewarding aspects of gaming available. It requires learning a degree of expertise over games that is maintained through practice and discourse with other GMs.

Therefore, this series is presented in a discussion style, and we encourage you to contribute with comments about your own tools, tips, and techniques into the GM’s Toolbox.

The GM’s Toolbox

By Michael Beck

The Index of the GMing Book That I Would Instantly Buy

I have read some books about GMing and larger articles on the net, but I have never found a satisfying book that covers ALL aspects of GMing. By creating this toolbox, I also created something like a wish list for a GMing book’s content.

If I could find a GMing book with this stuff in it, plus some more theoretical stuff, this would be an instant buy for me. This book would probably be a large one, at around 300 pages.

Giving You the Toolbox

Michael Beck: Thanks for reading this rather large series. I hope this will give you some inspiration, motivation, and a bit less stress in GMing. Also, a big thank you to Christina, aka Da’Vane, and Johnn, who both spent hours correcting and editing this text.

In this series we are going meta. This is not meant to be a collection of fleshed out tips for usage (for example: an NPC generation-tip for generating NPCs). This collection is more an overview of what can be found in a GM’s tool-box.

You can take it as a shopping-list:

  • Do I have such a tool in my toolbox already?
  • Do I need it?
  • Could I replace it by a better one?

In that sense you could see it as me explaining what a screwdriver is and what it is needed for. I’m not giving you the actual screwdriver.

So what do I mean by a tool? Essentially a tool is the answer to a certain question. For example, your campaign planning tool is what you’re saying to me, when I ask: What are you doing to prepare a campaign? I want to illustrate each tool by an example of what my version of this tool looks like.

There may be even more tools I never thought of, so don’t consider this series as exhaustive.”

Da’ Vane: I was impressed with the layout of Michael’s work on the GM’s Toolbox, but quickly became concerned by how little substance there was in the actual article. It was a framework, a skeleton, and needed fleshing out somehow.

But then I realised the issue was how I was perceiving the term toolbox. That’s when I was really able to come to grips with the article, and make the most of it, understanding what it was that Michael and Johnn were trying to do here.

When people buy tools for the first time, they normally come in their own toolbox, although very little thought is actually given to the toolbox itself. It’s just a storage container for the tools. It is easy to pick up a beginner’s set of tools that has everything in it in this way, all in their own neat little places.

As time goes on, people buy more tools, but because they already have a set of tools, they don’t worry about a toolbox, so they just by the tools. These often just end up getting thrown in with the other tools, and that neat little system of organised tools soon becomes a chaotic mess.

When this gets too much, people suddenly realise they need a new toolbox. They need somewhere to keep the tools they already have. They may not necessarily need all the extra tools that come with bigger toolboxes, so finding a toolbox that is empty is often harder, because an empty toolbox is something that only a master really needs to buy.

In GMing, there are many books, and many articles, that provide you with a whole bunch of tools and a means of organizing them, as if you are a novice Games Master.

It’s your first time running a game, so here’s a set of basic tools to run the game. You can find tons of articles on specific tools, tips, and techniques that you can then use to improve your GMing skills and abilities.

But integrating them with the tools you already have can be tricky, and result in a lot of confusion. It’s rare to find anything that deals with higher level GMing. How to improve your skills once you’ve gone past being a novice, once you’ve been given your initial set of tools and used them for a while.

Most of the time we are left to discover these tricks ourselves, and share them by word of mouth.

This style of learning is no different from the early days of academic advancement – indicating that Games Mastery is becoming a recognised body of knowledge. It may seem limited to our hobby for now, but it isn’t.

Gaming is becoming more mainstream, and the role of games is returning as an important educational tool in our lives. It takes a moment to realise that when you need your first toolbox, you are no longer a novice. When you actually get to give someone their own toolbox, with or without some of your own tools included, you have become a true Master.

Being chosen to work on this series was that moment for me, when I became a true Games Master. Now, it is your turn to share your tools, tips, and techniques and become one too. Let’s fill up this toolbox, and see just how long it will be before we finish that GMing book that Michael Beck, and many others, would instantly buy!

Stay tuned next week for Part 1: Prep Tools I.

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Directed Plots, Undirected Narrative, and Stuff That Just Happens


There’s been a lot of commentary over the years about different styles of campaign. Most distinguish between Episodic and Serialized campaigns, and many writers seem to assume that those are the only types of campaign there are. This is a position with which I don’t agree; there are more layers and levels within this classification than initially meets the eye.

Another criterion by which campaigns are distinguished from each other is Gamist vs. Narrative vs. Simulationist, which was last discussed in the comments section of my post “The Quality Of Rules” but that relates to the level of narrative vs. game mechanics within a campaign or rules system, and is only indirectly relevant to the subject that I want to discuss today.

This article is going to examine the ways in which different Narrative styles and techniques can combine with Episodic and Serialized campaigns to produce not eight distinctly different combinations. It will also consider how these different types of campaign can be Sandboxed – which is yet another campaign approach that has come into vogue in the last few years.

Definitions

The right place to start is defining these different terms, however vaguely, so that we are all more or less starting on the same page.

Episodic

An episodic campaign is one in which the adventures are isolated from each other, each having no impact on the next. The characters taking part may be the same, but even that is not necessarily the case, since the adventures are completely self-contained. What little continuity there is derives from this commonality of characters, as it can be assumed that in each adventure the characters acquire additional abilities, skills, and/or equipment which are therefore present at the commencement of the next adventure. However, even that need not be sacrosanct; the GM is perfectly entitled to handwave an interval of time between adventures in which various things have changed for the characters.

Serialized

A serialized campaign is one in which the adventures are deliberately linked to each other, and the real purpose of one adventure may be nothing more than laying the groundwork for a future adventure. Continuity is heavily enforced both for PCs and NPCs. Subplots or plot arcs may extend across multiple adventures. Time is generally more stringently defined and followed, with one adventure immediately following another.

Of course, there are multiple levels of serialization available to a GM – at its most extreme, such campaigns cannot even be divided into separate adventures, but are a continuous stream of events. At typical levels, adventures are clearly separate, but one adventure may be introduced or foreshadowed by events in a preceding adventure, and campaign developments continuously occur in the background. And with light serialization, events in one adventure are based on those that have occurred previously, but with some separation to allow room for developments to occur and consequences to manifest.

Gamist

This term has to do with the relative importance of game mechanics to events within the campaign. A purely gamist approach places the rules, as written, above all else.

Simulationist

The simulationist approach takes the view that the events within the game are those that would really occur, given the circumstances, and that both story and rules should bend to this sense of realism.

Narrative

The narrative approach to campaigns places the story above everything else. It is also known as the Storytelling approach for obvious reasons. In poorly-crafted campaigns of this type, the GM lays down railroad tracks for the plot and forces the PCs to follow those tracks; in better-crafted examples, the GM views the storytelling as a shared experience, with the players’ contributions given equal or even superior weight to those of the GM.

Sandboxing, Sandboxed

Sandboxing is the process of sealing off the world outside the adventure while giving the players free reign to explore and behave as they wish within the ‘sandbox’ – in other words, it’s a way of keeping a campaign within manageable limits. There are three basic approaches to sandboxing: Arm’s Length, Closed, and Open.

Arm’s Length Sandboxing

This is an approach that I have advocated in the past, where notes are only collated and world details established by the GM if the subject of those notes is ‘within arm’s length’ of the PCs. Don’t worry about creating Elven Culture, for example, until either an Elf enters the campaign and the PCs have the potential to interact with him or her, or the PCs are likely to choose to go to the land of the Elves. In order to work, this approach needs good communications between player and GM, and the GM must also be fairly adept at projecting his future needs from the current circumstances within the campaign. Even so, from time to time, this approach will require the GM to be creative on his feet and make sense of it afterwards, so this approach doesn’t suit GMs that require strong organization of their ideas. It works best early in the campaign, where options are limited, problems are small, and situations are usually locally confined. The virtue of the approach is that it doesn’t waste the GMs time detailing background elements that are unlikely to come into play, so there is a narrowing of focus that can be helpful to those with limited prep time. I employed Arm’s Length sandboxing when starting my Fumanor Campaign, and still do to some extent.

Closed Sandboxing

This approach to sandboxing deliberately excludes everything from the PCs worldview until the GM is ready to let it loose in the campaign. Until the GM has his elvish society worked out, there are no elves – either PC or NPC – permitted within the campaign; they are creatures of myth and legend.

Clearly, this approach is even more conservative in terms of prep time required, but it runs the risk of closing off the player’s interest in the campaign as well; the ‘sense of wonder’ can be easily overwhelmed.

Perhaps the best example that I’ve seen of this approach is literary – the Belgariad by (Leigh and) David Eddings – in which generalities and clichés are used for the rest of the world and only a single realm is explored at once. The characters are taken by circumstances on a cook’s tour of the Western Kingdoms, learning their ins and outs one at a time. Only once that is complete do events start moving at breakneck pace.

Open Sandboxing

This type of sandboxing has almost non-existent constraints. In many ways, it’s “Arm’s Length” sandboxing but with the PCs setting the agenda. They key is providing enough information on everything to serve as a foundation, while not overwhelming the players. Thus, if the players decide they want to visit the Land Of The Fey, the GM has to start work on detailing that land while controlling the rate at which the characters travel – delaying them, if necessary.

They way it works is to provide minimal details, representing common knowledge, at the start of the campaign, on the many different subjects of interest. Each PC can then select a ‘home kingdom’ or ‘home city’, and the GM creates those in a little more detail, sufficient to enable the player to understand the character background that he has chosen, without divulging that information to the other players.

The GM then needs only detail where the PCs currently are, and where they are going next; everything else can be held in abeyance until it becomes relevant. ‘Open Sandboxing’ is the technique that I have employed in my Shards Of Divinity campaign.

The flavors of Narrative

Reading these definitions, you get the sense that “Narrative” is like a light-switch, either on nor off, or perhaps that this is the way it should be approached, and further, that there is just one type of “Narrative” that can be included in a campaign. Neither perception is accurate, and it is correcting that inaccuracy that is at the heart of this article.

To start with, Narrative can be divided into three categories: short-span narrative, long-span narrative, and intermediate narratives of various kinds.

Short-span narratives are passages of narration where the GM is imparting information or description to the players, and these are common to all styles of campaign. Long-span narratives are more substantial bodies of text, sometimes broken up into multiple shorter sections. Since that usually means that different pieces are delivered in different parts of an adventure, or even over multiple adventures, this type of narrative favors those campaign styles with stronger continuity.

The implication, clearly, is that this type of definition of narrative establishes a one-to-one correlation with episodic and serialized campaigns. Does that mean that narration can be ignored as a campaign characteristic? Certainly not – but it does mean that a different definition, with different distinguishing features, is necessary.

It was some months ago that my thoughts had reached this point, but for a considerable time, such a definition eluded me. After some thought, though, I came up with the following, which distinguishes between types of narrative by its purpose.

Directed Narrative

Directed Narrative is narrative with a purpose beyond the immediate imparting of information. It is narrative with a direction, a reason for being present.

Sounds simple enough, doesn’t it? But, like an iceberg, there are hidden depths to this simple definition, because there is no indication of when that direction will be relevant. It might be immediate, or later in the adventure, or in a subsequent adventure – and that means that the definition of this type of narrative avoids the problem of the oen previously offered. This type of narrative can be used with either type of campaign, Episodic or Serial or points in between, and its meaning will change in subtle ways with the new context.

Undirected Narrative

The antithesis of Directed Narrative would obviously be Undirected Narrative, which of course is defined as narrative with no purpose beyond the imparting of information. Those hearing it are free to take it in any direction they choose, i.e. to interpret the meaning of the narrative as they see fit. This is clearly different to the short-span narratives of the previous definition because there is no restriction on the scale and scope of the narrative – an undirected narrative could be quite extensive and revealed in the course of many adventures. Once again, there are hidden depths to this seemingly simple definition, and the nature of the narrative can vary with the context of the type of campaign.

Intermediate Narrative

It might seem, at first glance, that these two narrative types are such polar opposites that there is no middle ground. And yet, that is not entirely true, because another variety of narrative is Narrative with a purpose beyond the imparting of information that nevertheless has no specific direction intended. This is idea-bait, concepts thrown out with absolutely no idea of how and even if they will fit into a larger scheme.

It might also seem that such narrative is a mistake on the part of the GM, and certainly it flies in the face of the advice that I have dispensed through these pages in the past, which concentrates on tying causes and effects together and being in control of where your campaign is going. But it’s important to recognize that this is not the only way to go, and the simple avoidance of railroad tracks in your plots is enough to make this type of narrative a viable choice.

Unstructured Narrative

And, there is a final type of narrative implied by this structure: Narrative without the capacity for direction. If EVERYTHING the GM tells the players is the direct answer to a question, and the GM vets those questions to answer only those that the characters have the capacity to answer. Deliberately excluding all narrative that the characters don’t have the skills to obtain – at least until they are in conversation with a character with the required expertise – is a kind of “non-narrative narrative” that deserves its own category.

Application

Okay, enough games theory; its time to take all this theory and turn it into something useful, namely, how to identify the different types of campaign that result from these combinations and how best to sandbox them. As I indicated at the start of the article, with four different types of narrative, and two types of continuity structure, there are clearly 8 different combinations to be considered. There is also a 9th ‘intermediate’ type (with multiple subtypes) to be addressed.

Why would a GM want to have this information?

  • Identifying the type of campaign and the sandboxing approach that best suits it helps the GM focus on the work that needs doing for his campaign at any given time, making game prep more efficient;
  • Focusing the Game Prep in this way permits the GM to retain only the background information that is necessary to his game at any given point;
  • Focusing the immediately-necessary knowledge makes it easier for new players and characters to join the Campaign;
  • I don’t think this type of stylistic analysis has been carried out with a view to the practical question of sandboxing the different types of campaign; and, lastly and most importantly,
  • one type of campaign can be transformed into another any time the GM considers it appropriate or useful – but knowing what you are changing from and to are necessary steps to managing the transformation process.

Episodic Campaigns with Directed Narrative

At first glance, this campaign style seems to be full of internal contradictions. How can your narrative have a purpose beyond the immediate if the campaign is episodic, with only weak or no continuity from one episode to another?

This contradiction is easily resolved when it is realized that the target of the directed narrative doesn’t have to be some over-riding megaplot, but can be the end of the current adventure. A few moments more of thought, and the perceptive GM will realize that even narrative that IS pitched at some ultimate plotline spanning multiple adventures says nothing about the participants in any one given adventure. The fact that one or more PCs will provide a continuity link between adventures by their very presence is enough vehicle for a directed narrative.

The result is that episodes of the campaign resemble the issues of a comic book; each is a self-contained plot, but there can be a broader narrative shaping the background, so that the context in which adventures take place slowly changes and evolves.

Sandboxing Episodic Campaigns with Directed Narrative

The restrictions that directed narrative place on an episodic campaign can be fine lines for the GM to traverse without creating plot trains. The best solution is to ensure that the directed exposition deals only with NPC actions and intents, and does not commit the PCs to any course not of their own choosing, this danger can be avoided. There should be nothing which will prompt the PCs to set everything else aside and deal with an urgent issue arising in the narrative. In other words, the narrative may be directed – but should also be a little more indirect than can be the case with other campaign structures.

Sandboxing this type of campaign can be challenging. Open Sandboxing is the approach that most readily serves; the other approaches tend to confer, manifest, and respond to, directed intent on the part of the GM a little too readily. That is not to say that they can’t be employed, just that the other sandboxing approaches require the GM to spend some of his time second-guessing himself and ensuring that he’s maintaining the sandbox and not constructing a sandCASTLE within it.

Episodic Campaigns with Intermediate Narrative

This type of campaign structure is very difficult to maintain, and almost always devolves into one of the other types eventually. Intermediate Narrative contains, by its nature, multiple ideas and avenues that the PCs may wish to pursue; but Episodic Campaigns generally can only develop one or two of those ideas at a time. The remaining avenues of activity are, of necessity, ignored – though they may proceed and develop in the background, and so provide context to other events. Johnn may be interested to note that I would classify his Riddleport campaign within this category, based on the game reports that he posts periodically in Roleplaying Tips (a link to the most recent one) and in various articles here at Campaign Mastery.

The key to keeping this type of campaign functional is self-control and self-restraint. Just because you can think up another dozen plot seeds, don’t drop them into the mix; instead, decide the number of plotlines which you are comfortable running simultaneously and add new plot seeds only to replace those that have been consumed by the players. In order to keep your campaign dynamic and evolving and not static, you can also update existing plot seeds that have not been investigated by the players, but be careful not to explain your cleverness to them – they should learn only those things that their characters would know. Be a reporter, not an omniscient gossip!

The Mouthpiece Approach

One technique that I would employ in such a campaign is to have a mouthpiece within the game for news – some character who wanders on stage, updates the players with the latest fact and rumor, and then exits stage left. This recurring NPC would probably have his own agenda (imposing some censorship on the news that he disseminates) but would otherwise be an honest reporter of news from the perspective of the man on the street. By working within this characterization and not speaking ex-cathedra, you impose an additional buffer between your players and any tendency toward grandiosity of planning – or of showing off your own cleverness. You might miss out on some immediate self-congratulations, but your campaign will be better off in the long run.

The Vectored Information Approach

The alternative is to have many sources of information, and to categorize the information by subject. Playing to opposites can work well in this approach, as can playing to type.

For example, let’s say that you want to drop in a plot seed about strange religious practices being rumored in a nearby village. You can either vector this information by type (directing it to the attention of the Cleric within the party) or you can vector against type and have the information be reported to a character who is as secular as they come, always willing to believe the worst about the church in general. Either of these vectors puts a very different spin on the news in question.

A key to the Vectored Information Approach is for the players to spend roleplaying time actually talking to each other in character about what they’ve heard. Choosing not to relay news of an event to the group is serious, and should eventually come back to bite the reluctant reporter, though some characters may choose to dribble such information out as it becomes relevant and not in a standard ‘let’s exchange the news’ format. That’s because the self-censor is choosing not to get the PCs involved in the events on behalf of the entire party without even giving them the chance to choose for themselves. Such behavior may be tolerable in an Evil campaign, but at any other time it should be unacceptable.

Sandboxing Episodic Campaigns with Intermediate Narrative

This type of campaign is more easily sandboxed than most; indeed, it’s virtually built in, incorporated in the practice of controlling the plot hooks and seeds that the GM introduces. While any of the three techniques of Sandboxing can be utilized, the style lends itself most readily to the Arm’s Length approach, with the plot hooks that he chooses to incorporate defining the breadth of that reach. The felicity of sandboxing to this campaign style is one of its greatest benefits.

Episodic Campaigns with Undirected Narrative

Some GMs have no capacity for large, sprawling plotlines that enmesh themselves in multiple adventures. Others find them second nature, and have to actively reign in their propensities to maintain an episodic nature to the campaign. I have to admit that I’m a member of the latter group. There are times when that’s an advantage, and times when it’s a liability.

This combination of campaign characteristics definitely suits the first group far more than the second. Ensuring that each adventure is treated as a mini-campaign which runs to a definite conclusion is the key to success with this style.

Sandboxing Episodic Campaigns with Undirected Narrative

The more control over the plotline that the GM gives up, the more difficult sandboxing becomes. The only way that I can conceive of successfully doing so is to rigidly focus on limiting the content of each “mini-campaign” to those elements that are immediately relevant to the current adventure.

There will be a constant conflict between the needs of this campaign style and the perpetuation of continuity of PCs, as each will bring with it the legacies of past explorations beyond those immediate relevancies; the longer this campaign style is maintained, the more unstable it will become. Only the completeness of the resolution of each plotline combats this instability, and even that is hard to maintain in the face of character continuity.

Open sandboxing commends itself most obviously as the most suitable approach to the needs of this campaign type, but any of the techniques can be made to work provided that the need to maintain the campaign style itself is properly prioritized. Doing so, however, introduces a new type of instability to the campaign, forcing the GM to spend perpetually more time on holding actions that do nothing but service the campaign style and do not contribute to its enjoyability, scope, or capacity for inclusion of new material. Eventually, all this work for no real return will sap the GMs enthusiasm for the campaign, and it will either shut down – or the GM will become sloppy or overwhelmed, and the campaign style will change quite radically. It’s my experience that the first will result at least 3 times in 4 – and that this type of ending is generally unsatisfactory for all concerned.

Even worse, one of the easiest solutions to these problems that the GM can implement is railroading – which brings more problems with it than it solves. Even the activities needed to maintain the campaign style can be misperceived by the players as railroading their plots – a sure sign that the campaign as it then stands is doomed, and radical change in style is needed in order for it to survive.

Making Episodic Campaigns with Undirected Narrative work

The only exceptions that I have seen to these patterns are those where the combination of Open Sandboxing and this campaign style have been employed at the commencement of a campaign with a deliberate shift to a different campaign style once those fundamentals have been established. One GM that I know set a hard limit on the amount of time he was willing to expend on non-productive campaign admin, and used that as his trigger for the transition in style. Another simply chooses to reboot his entire campaign when the needs of the campaign style become excessive.

These are both drastic solutions, but the need for drastic solutions comes with this style. Knowing and preparing for that is vital to the long-term success of campaigns that employ it.

Episodic Campaigns without Narrative Structure

In many ways, these are the simplest campaigns to run. Each adventure is complete unto itself, with no connection to those that come before or after it except continuity of characters, and perhaps not even that. Adventures can be as isolated as an episode of Law And Order or The Twilight Zone.

The strength of this style of campaign is that there is no continuity – so there is no need to do anything more than is needed for the adventure at hand, and any mistakes can be left behind. The shortcoming of this style of campaign is that there is no continuity – so resources, research, and creativity cannot accumulate and stockpile, and you have to start from scratch each time.

This style of “campaign” generally serves one of two purposes: Convention play, and campaign trials – the equivalent of pilot episodes. In the first, the style is self-contained because the gaming environment is self-contained; in the second, if the campaign proves successful, it will almost certainly transition to a different style immediately.

Having said that, I have met a couple of GMs who excelled at on-the-spur-of-the-moment creativity, who were completely comfortable with the concept of “one adventure, one campaign, brand new every time” – so it is possible. Personally, I have always found participating in such campaigns to be frustrating; there was always a sense of “there could be so much more,” or “this doesn’t go far enough”, whenever I did so. Others, especially those who could not participate regularly in more ongoing campaigns, indicated a marked preference for them, and I can understand their point of view. Individual tastes, as always, vary.

Sandboxing Episodic Campaigns without Narrative Structure

In some respects, these campaigns are the hardest to sandbox. It’s hard enough wringing coherence from an assortment of ideas generated on the spot without further encumbering them with self-containment. As a result, this type of campaign always has loose ends, as implied in the preceding paragraphs, and it is very easy for the PCs to escape the sandbox in pursuit of something that seems interesting or relevant.

The only form of sandboxing that has any hope of success is the “Arm’s Length” technique, and even using this approach, the GM will have to be adept at molding the directions in which the PCs “arms” point so that they perpetually lead back to the main plot. The best tool that I can think of for achieving this is to incorporate the concept of “relevance” to the information the PCs are given through the unstructured narratives the GM uses to provide answers to the characters.

Incorporating “Relevance” simply means that success in a skill check or die roll does not only give an answer to the question being posed by the character making the roll, it also gives an estimate of the relative relevance of that answer.

  • “It doesn’t seem relevant to recent events, but…”
  • “It seems a little afield from the main topic, but…”
  • “You think you’re on to something when you realize…”
  • “Quite obviously…” (the absence of any editorial comment regarding the relevance implies that the answer isrelevant).

By providing an estimate of the value of the information, the GM is defining the limits of the Sandbox. Of course, this technique requires the PCs to trust the GM to be completely honest in these communications, and that can pose its own problems – but it’s better for the PCs to penetrate straight to the heart of a problem or puzzle than it is for them to get sidetracked.

Serial Campaigns with Directed Narrative

This is perhaps the style of campaign with which I am most familiar, with the “Intermediate Narrative” version (below) a close second. Continuity-rich campaigns with overarching plotlines present the GM with the broadest possible canvas on which to present adventures for the enjoyment and participation of the players. Much of the advice here at Campaign Mastery is directed at achieving this type of campaign, dealing with the problems and complications of the style, and so on. Campaigns of this style most closely resemble a series of “24” or mini-series, or an old-fashioned movie serial.

Sandboxing Serial Campaigns with Directed Narrative

This can appear a daunting task at times, since the real power of this type of campaign is the sheer scope that can be possible within it, but any of the three techniques will work perfectly acceptably, and have all been used by me with this style of campaign. It’s been my experience that the “Arm’s Length” and “Open Sandbox” approaches work best early in a campaign’s life, while the “Closed Sandbox” becomes progressively more useful during the middle and higher levels of a campaign.

Serial Campaigns with Intermediate Narrative

This is the style that I intend to utilize with the latest iteration of my Superhero campaign when it restarts later this year (the old campaign used Directed Narrative). I have a lot of smaller plot arcs that will be overlapping with each other, and a lot of standalone scenarios that will occupy the foreground when those plot arcs aren’t supposed to take centre stage, but there is no Grand Plan connecting everything together. With ten years worth of adventures without such a Grand Plan, it’s not really necessary.

Sandboxing Serial Campaigns with Intermediate Narrative

This actually poses something of a challenge to me when it comes to Sandboxing the campaign. I’ve thought extensively on the subject, and the only approach that seems like it might work at all (aside from “No Sandboxing”, of course), is the Open Sandbox. However, there are going to be two distinct types of adventure – those taking place in the dimension for which the Heroes are responsible, and those taking place in the team’s Native Dimension, and I am still contemplating the question of whether or not to employ different sandboxing techniques for each.

The major problem is that each plot arc will have its own ‘sandbox’, and while these will sometimes overlap or be contiguous with those of the primary plot, a lot of the time they won’t. It follows that subplots will automatically, and regularly, take the PCs “off the reservation”. And if your sandbox only constrains some of the time, it might as well not constrain at all – and that is the province of an Open Sandbox.

The minor problem is that I would much prefer to employ either Closed Sandboxing or the Arm’s-Length approaches, because they cut down on the amount of campaign prep – and finding the time to finish that prep is a major and ongoing problem for me. So the logistics are saying one thing, and the campaign style is saying another – and just how things will come out in the wash, I don’t know.

Serial Campaigns with Undirected Narrative

Just as was the case with the more directed narrative types and episodic campaigns, we are now increasingly headed into territory where the narrative type is in apparent conflict with the nature of the campaign. In this case, we have a serial campaign, with strong continuity, but with undirected narrative, the risk is that the campaign will simply tread water and go nowhere for long periods of time.

A serial campaign needs to get direction from somewhere, and if the GM isn’t going to provide it, something or someone else has to do so. In theory, the players are that something, but they need a certain amount of background information before they can make educated decisions – and the production of that information violates the fundamental precepts of sandboxing and undermines the value of the practice.

Sandboxing Serial Campaigns with Undirected Narrative

That makes Sandboxing this style of campaign a special challenge; it was in deliberate response to that challenge that I developed the open sandboxing style. A half-page summary of the society and politics of a nation is ample detail for an initial briefing, and a further page or two is enough to fully brief players whose characters have a special interest in that background element. More can be provided when it becomes necessary.

Another way of thinking about the Open Sandbox technique is “arm’s-length sandboxing with half-page summaries in advance,” but I prefer to think of the summaries as crib notes. Nor do I feel especially constrained to keep those summaries 100% accurate – there is always a gap between common knowledge and reality.

Serial Campaigns without Narrative Structure

This article is at last beginning the downhill stretch; this is the last of the major styles that need to be examined. It’s also the most soap-opera of the styles, both from a metagame perspective and in terms of its internal construction. In fact, the best description of this style of campaign that I have ever found comes from an episode of The Simpsons: “It’s just a bunch of stuff that happened.”

The PCs in this style of campaign are travelers through a world that is continually evolving and changing around them. Individual characters may have master plans – which may or may not be pursued to completion – but the GM doesn’t.

Sandboxing Serial Campaigns without Narrative Structure

Picture the overall “plotline” as being composed of plot hooks written on a series of index cards. At the beginning of each game session, the PCs can get involved in two or three of those index cards. At the commencement of the next session, though, they have all been updated – some in response to PC actions, some because the PCs weren’t there to interfere, and some in reflection of a conflict between NPCs. Which bait the PCs choose to investigate is up to them – but they will have to live and interact with not only the consequences of their actions but the consequences of their inactivity.

Of course, you don’t have to actually use index cards in this way, but the general principles remain. Everything is an ongoing story, and the PCs will be able to involve themselves in only some of these stories. This seems tailor-made for the “closed sandboxing” approach, or even the “arm’s length” technique.

Compound Campaigns

It’s also worth mentioning that it is very rare for a single campaign to have the same style consistently, all the time. It’s far more common for the style to shift around a bit – some standalone stories may be strongly episodic while the campaign ‘standard’ is serial in nature. You can even have different styles for the subplots as compared to the main plots.

However, the narrative style – which reflects how the GM interacts with the Players as much as it does the way in which the characters interact with the campaign – will usually be consistent throughout a campaign.

Sandboxing techniques may also change from adventure to adventure, but will also generally be consistent, even if the style of campaign temporarily deviates from the established norm for the campaign.

In other words, every campaign is really a compound of several different, related, campaign types and techniques.

There are two ways to handle this compounding of campaign types: blindly, or deliberately. The first is all too common, the second is rare. While there are far too many combinations of circumstance for me to dispense comprehensive advice in this area, it is always better to make a deliberate choice, in advance. At least then, the GM can prepare solutions to the particular problems and difficulties that may arise.

Changing Campaign Styles

The final discussion point that I wish to raise in concluding this article is to invite GMs to consider the effect of deliberately violating the rule of thumb given in the preceding section regarding consistency of narrative style.

A serial campaign can survive a single excursion into episodic behavior with a completely different narrative style, or vice-versa; all you have to do is ensure that the narrative style is appropriate to the adventure in question, emphasizing its unique aspects and flavor. Before that becomes possible, of course, it is necessary for the GM to understand the different combinations of style and narrative approach, and how they will work with the established sandboxing techniques available.

That’s the ultimate purpose of this article: giving GMs the knowledge to make deliberate choices about the style of their campaign, and to vary it with passing adventure-type needs. This is not just Game Theory – it is a practical tool for the enhancement of your campaigns and adventures.

Stop and think about your current campaign for a moment. Does it have a consistent style, or is it a hodgepodge compound? Are there things that you have been doing without realizing it that this article has brought to your attention – and are they beneficial, or a hindrance? Is there something in your approach that could be changed for the better – now that you recognize the pattern? Or do you have additional light to shed on one of the subjects that have been touched on? We’d love to hear from you!

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Fastest Pathfinder Combat Ever – How We Did It


Tsojcanth

Lost Caverns of Tsojcanth

Two weeks ago I reported on my combat timing and discovered I was taking the longest turns at the table. I vowed the fix this, and Friday’s session bore great results. Here’s the lowdown on how we did so well.

Fight To The Death To Lift A Paladin’s Curse

The PCs had just finished exploring parts of a mission dungeon. (A mission dungeon is one where the PCs are meant to visit from time to time to perform various interesting missions, as opposed to an “explore until complete, rich, or dead” type of dungeon. I’m repurposing the AD&D module Lost Caverns of Tsojcanth.)

We then roleplayed several encounters involving the usual Riddleport intrigue and politics. Sessions ago, the paladin won a cursed silver sword from a githyanki captain. To lift the curse, he must slay 30 evil creatures and four named evil creatures. He also incurred a negative level, and to repair his status he had to slay a Riddleport villain known as Kakiku, a godslayer dragonspawn.

The group decided to flush out Kakiku to help the paladin’s quest. They did a lot of investigation, and then enlisted the help of their crime lord patron.

A few days before, they humiliated the dragonspawn in an impromptu arena duel. The PCs aimed to challenge the dragonspawn faction to a rematch in the arena.

Rictus, the PCs’ vampiric patron, would personally invite Kakiku to watch from his private observation box. As Rictus is the owner of the arena, it is an honour to be invited, and it’s a sweet spot to watch the gladiatorial fights.

The PCs would ambush Kakiku en route to the arena match and turn the streets of Riddleport red (or, in this case, blue).

The Set Up

The characters picked the ambush spot. One player drew the map while the others strategized. This saved me time drawing up the map, and gave me time to study the bluespawn stat blocks.

Then I brought out the monster minis. A pair of mediums, a pair of larges, and a huge one. The huge was Kakiku. The others were his bodyguards.

I set out the minis in my desired formation. Then I asked the players to place the formation wherever they wanted on their map.

Next, the players placed their PCs. Several picked roof tops. A couple picked side alleys.

The ambush was set.

Giving players choice of map configuration, enemy placement, and PC location after enemy placement gave the players significant tactical advantage.

However, I had two reasons for doing this.

First, the group spent time beforehand gathering intelligence on the bluespawn. They knew the creatures’ abilities and temperaments. They knew enough that a challenge of honour and an opportunity for revenge would draw Kakiku out, with the invite from Rictus lending the whole affair legitimacy.

So, the PCs deserved the high ground for due diligence.

Second, I wanted a fast combat. Giving advantage to the PCs gave this goal a better chance.

The setup was no guarantee the PCs would win. Their placement and tactics could still have been poor. However, they worked as a group, and the fight was more enjoyable because of the strategy, planning, teamwork, and build-up.

I Pre-Rolled Initiative

I use a Google Spreadsheet to manage initiative in a fast, simple, and orderly way. After last session, I added several new columns and filled them with initiative rolls.

I had asked the players if I could roll init for them, and everybody agreed.

So I did. When we were ready to fight, I made the foes’ perception checks. And those who weren’t surprised got in on the PCs’ surprise round.

With initiative pre-rolled and already slotted in my spreadsheet (which is always visible to players via a second monitor that faces them) we then simply started combat. “Fane, you’re up. You’ve surprised the bluespawn, what is your action?”

Armor Class Posted

When players ask me the armor class of opponents, I have to look them up in the stat block. Everybody waits, then the player lets me know if he hit. There are moments of hesitation on both sides while the rolls, calculations, and situation freeze frame during the look up.

Knowing foes’ AC ahead of time is not much of a spoiler. Though, I will poll the players after I do this a few more times to see how they feel about it. Could be, the anticipation of hitting or not is too much fun, and that delay is part of the glee of combat. So, perhaps I only reveal ACs once the PCs’ hits pinpoint them.

For this battle, though, revealing them up front worked beautifully. Half the back-and-forth during a player’s turn instantly disappeared. They saw their foe’s AC on the spreadsheet, made their rolls, and announced hits and misses. Very fast!

Damage Posted

We were already doing this, but it added more punch because the PCs were focusing fire on Kakiku. I count up with damage, and post it in red on the spreadsheet for all to see.

Players can see who’s hurt and who isn’t this way without going through the mini roll call on the battlemat each round.

In this battle, they saw damage mount and adjusted tactics accordingly.

So, kudos to my players who used focus fire to bring down foes faster.

That had the added benefit of giving me fewer foes to manage as the battle went on, which reduced my time a lot.

Foes Fled

The PCs focused fire on the leader. He went down in three rounds (including surprise round).

As soon as the bodyguards saw their leader fall they raged. However, two of them went down fast. So, the other two buggered off to report to high command.

The fight ended early because the foes fled. However, the fight was a foregone conclusion, so it would have just been a grind to finish the remaining two.

Story was at stake, though. The PCs did not want any survivors reporting back to HQ. However, with a fight in the middle of the street, there would be enough witnesses for some semblance of the truth to come out anyway.

The point was moot, as the bodyguards had burrowing ability, and escaped through the ground, making chase near impossible.

Our fight ended early, at its peak, instead of getting drawn out and sucking all our table energy with it.

A Sixth PC

One of our players drives three hours (one way) to make the game. He can only make a few games each year. With a city campaign, it is easy bringing his PC in and out of the action. Fortunately, he made our game last Friday.

In this battle, he added more firepower to the PCs’ side, which made combat faster because foes died faster.

Xan’s player is fast too, which made his contribution so much more valuable to the combat.

The Final Results

The combat lasted one surprise round and two full rounds.

Here are the times:

DM: 9:45
Vigor: 9:11
Crixus & Cohort: 5:58
Velare & Cohort: 5:47
Xan: 2:27
Fane: 2:13
Hrolf: 1:37

Total time: 36 minutes, 58 seconds.

Last time, I ran eight critters and this time three. That is offset by two types last time versus three types this time.

Summary

I cannot let the players set battles up for optimal foe crushing too often, but it is another tool in the GMing toolbox I can pull out when appropriate.

  • Pre-rolling initiative worked well
  • Studying the foes a bit while the players strategized shaved time off my turns
  • Posting defenses allowed faster player calculations
  • Focused fire brought down the toughest threat early, and had a domino effect on the other foes
  • Foes ran away for tactical reasons and to prevent grind

Overall, a great success.

Comments (5)

Speed Up Combat By Building Your Own Combat GM Screen


Game Master Screen

Photo courtesy of sdobie

What is the number one way to make combat go faster?

For D&D type games, it is mastering the rules.

When you can make decisions based on accurate rules knowledge, not only do you have more options available, but you play with more effectiveness and confidence.

You also need to make fewer rules references on or between turns. You help other players make their moves faster, as well.

You no longer hesitate on your turn due to lack of rules knowledge. Calculations speed up.

And the biggest reason rules mastery makes you faster in combat? Decision and execution speed dramatically increase. You know what to do and how to do it, and you get on with it.

In Boxes, And Out

As a bonus, once you have internalized your game’s rules, your entire thinking changes. Thus, the game changes for you – and it’s wonderful.

First, you can think in terms of game rules and all the options they present. Pathfinder, for example, offers a lot of maneuver options. Sometimes using a maneuver or skill gives you a better result than just piling on more damage.

Second, you can think outside the box. With rules mastery, you know when you are leaving the security blanket of procedure and into the realm of imagination – and you will know how to translate that back into game mechanics terms fast.

Get that lateral thinking into play. Try roleplaying to end the fight a different way. Look up from your toes and beyond the tip of your axe and scan the battlefield for opportunities.

Reluctant Game Masters Take Note

I have been doing research recently on how to run combat faster. My group is already pretty efficient from various things we’ve tried over the years, but I want even more speed.

Turns out I am by far the slowest player at the game table.

As GM, I have a lot to do, as pointed out by Campaign Mastery readers: several critters to run, meta game issues to manage, and little time between turns to think about my own moves because I am refereeing character actions.

However, one thing I can do immediately to take a big chunk out of my turn speed is to master the rules. I asked Mike for his advice on that recently, and he’s got an excellent series on the topic.

If you find combat slow, look to your own turn speed first. Could be you can make the biggest difference to faster combat by learning the game rules a bit better.

Create Your Own GM Combat Screen

An easy trick to learn your game’s rules better is to create your own game master combat screen.

This specialized GM aid not only gets you reading, studying, and writing your rules, but it gives you a great GM aid in the end to make future combats faster.

Most commercial screens waste space. A lot of space. For example, my current pro screen offers only one side of information! The other side has art on it. What a massive waste. While the art is inspiring for players, I’m sure, the effect wears off. Groups get banner blindness due to familiarity. Useful information never goes stale.

Further, the information on my screen includes non-combat stuff. For a general purpose screen, that is great. But when you are in combat, all other matters pause. You do not need any other information at the moment.

So, give me only reference to what will help combat go faster or easier.

Creating your own GM screen gives you a focused GM aid such as this.

What To Put On Your Screen?

This is a custom screen. Make it suit your specific needs.

If you have already mastered some rules, there is no need to add them to your screen even though it might seem odd.

For example, if you have memorized the effects of several conditions, don’t list those. Just write out the conditions you need to learn better.

Before creating your screen, play a combat or three and observe where the pain points are. Using Mike’s tip, log what rules give your group hiccups. Then note those rules on your screen.

For example, I can never remember the tiers of Detect Evil. That should go on my screen.

Again, it might seem weird to put the rules of Detect Evil on your screen and no other spells, but that’s just your left brain of retentiveness looking for completeness and order.

Can’t remember the AC of full plate? Note it on your screen, but exclude the ACs of armour you do know.

Take Advantage of the Player Side

When creating your screen, put useful stuff on the other side to help your group fight faster and better.

What would help players during fights? Action types and costs? Attacks of opportunity explained? Certain spell charts?

What about offering a space for players to write stuff they keep forgetting, such as certain spells, feats, and bonus damages?

Start a list and pass your screen around so each player can add oft-forgotten tactics and opportunities.

Add Flavour

While getting faster is one goal, getting better is always my mission, too. So enlist your GM screen to help you add flavour to combat.

A simple reminder to roleplay during fights could help.

A table of simple combat descriptions could help you a lot too.

Some random name charts and a traits table might help you develop foe roleplaying on the fly.

Perhaps a description cheat sheet would remind you to set the scene better at the start of each combat.

Make A Simple Screen

Do not feel like you have to fill every inch of space with 9 point font.

Get a cereal box, cut it to size, and dot your new screen with Post-It Notes. Five minutes and you are done! Add notes as problem rules and reminder ideas come up.

Once your screen stabilizes, when you stop adding so many notes, you can get serious about crafting a fancier screen if desired.

Digital Screens Rock

I use a Google Spreadsheet instead of a cardboard screen at the table. You might find PDFs, desktop wallpapers, and other digital methods better.

Use whatever works for you.

However, while one part of this exercise is about creating a useful GM aid, but the other part is about mastering the rules by researching them and writing them out. Downloading a screen made by someone else only gets you a small win.

In this case, the building of your own screen is of the greatest benefit to you.

What Do You Think?

How do you master your game rules?

What tables do you find most useful on your commercial screen?

What information would you put on your custom GM combat screen?

Comments (6)

How To Fall In Love With GMing Again + iPad App Review of Daily Notes


daily notes ipadWrite down your ideas when they come to you. This core GM tip gets repeated often in the Roleplaying Tips newsletter for good reason.

If you do not record your ideas, they could get lost or fuddled, and I find nothing more frustrating when my brain pumps out a super idea only to ignore or forget it.

How To GM More Often

Writing out your ideas is the equivalent of mental exercise. It makes you smarter. No lie.

The biggest benefit, however, is not a bigger brain. It’s more engagement.

Busy GMs who have no time to prep for games tend to become distant from gaming over time. The zeal fades as they dream about old days with less responsibility and big blocks of time free for gaming.


As zeal fades, so does time spent gaming. However, writing down ideas gives you more ideas. It is a positive feedback loop. It keeps you thinking about gaming. It keeps you excited about it.

Writing down one idea at a time lets you sneak in session prep a few seconds at a time. It has no impact on your schedule. In almost every situation, you can pause for a few seconds to make a note.

Keep making notes, and the session plan starts to take form. By the time you get that small chunk of time to do game planning, most of it is done for you.

In this way, writing down your ideas keeps your gaming alive and thriving, even with kids, job, other hobbies, and a million of distractions.

I Tried Several Notes Apps Before Picking Daily Notes

Whether I’m in bed, on the street, at work, watching TV, or planning my next gaming session, I use my iPad to capture my ideas. About the only places I can’t use my iPad is in the sun, while driving, or in the shower.

The essential app I use every day to capture and organize my ideas is Daily Notes. This app is so important I put it in my dock.

Daily Notes recently released an upgrade, with many great new tweaks and features, so this is one of those great apps that is always improving.

Daily Notes was about my fifth idea capture app attempt. I tried the default Notes app that comes with the iPad, and found it did not suit my needs. Then I tried NotesHD, which I still use, but does not have the features I need. I tried a couple of other forgettable apps. I tried Evernote, which is awesome, but it does not do the trick for me.

Features I Like

The quest ended with Daily Notes because it met nearly all my needs:

  • Sections. Different areas for work, RPG, my websites, my projects.
  • Dated entries. I have always used a diary entry style for my ideas.
  • Tags. The big one. I need a more granular way of cataloguing my thoughts.
  • Export. I need a way to get my thoughts out of my notebook into the relevant software (email, doc, or spreadsheet, usually)

How I Use It To Capture My Ideas

Daily Notes Options Screen

Daily Notes Options Screen

I created sections – called tabs – for important areas or projects.

When a thought or idea comes to me, I open the app, which defaults to the current date, select the tab I want, and start writing. I tag the entry and am done.

The app itself takes about one second to manage in this process, which is the way it should be. I do not need to boot a PC, wait seconds while I launch software, find the proper file to open, find the right location within the file, then start writing.

This is a bit of an exaggeration, actually, because most of the time when at a computer I just crack open Notepad, which is in my launch bar, and I am writing within a couple seconds. However, even after that I still need to file that idea away somewhere. I email it to myself, or save the file, or, once my head is emptied (which my wife says is often) I find the permanent location I store my information and slot it, which does take time.

With the iPad, I flip open the lid, enter my password, open the app, select the tab, and start writing – about one second.

Weekly Ideas Scan

Most of my ideas are crap. The goal is to generate so many ideas some are brilliant. Then you just select the good ideas and run with them.

The more often you write your ideas down, the more often ideas come to you. It’s a skill you develop over time. Brainstorming, some call it.

But there are also times you chase a sequence of thinking down to a conclusion and you want to note that chain and the end thought. That is real work being done. I call it perfect beer-on-the-deck moments. It’s also how I do my best game session planning.

So, I fill this bucket full of crap and some gems. Each week, when I do my GTD reviews, I scan my Daily Notes entries. The good ones, if there are any, I transfer to my project lists and documents.

It’s that easy. Record everything. Sift through it regularly. Take the best stuff and leave the rest behind.

Daily Notes

Landscape view gives you easy calendar access

RPG Planning

I still use my Loopy Session Planning method for organizing my current Riddleport campaign.

I keep a list of all open threads and review them GTD-style before each session. I update accordingly.

Most often, I pick a thread and think it through. I do this while driving, during TV commercials, or when otherwise free to think. Exercise is an especially effective time for me to think while my body is distracted.

When ideas and thoughts come to me about game situations and plot threads, I record them in Daily Notes. Then I review them and transfer the good stuff to my loopy session plan.

This year my thread notes have grown beyond what a plain text file can keep organized and accessible. So I have transferred my loopy system to MyInfo. I’ll write about this awesome piece of GMing software another day, but suffice to say I still loop and still keep things simple for agile GMing of a sandbox fantasy city campaign.

Record Your Ideas Daily

Regardless of system or software, create a sleek system for yourself that lets you write down your ideas as soon as they come to you. Pen and pocket notebook did me good throughout the 1990s. So did the Hipster PDA in the mid-2000s.

Today I use Daily Notes and an iPad, but the principle is the same: get it out on paper. And do something with the good ideas. Act.

Get some gaming done this week.

– Johnn

Comments (3)

Taming The Time Bandits: Some time-saving combat techniques


Synopsis Of The Problem

In Johnn’s last blog post, “My Group’s Time Thief Revealed,” he described his discovery that the chief drag on the pace of his combat was the GM, despite his expectations to the contrary. While he did not track the components of his activity, he was able to dismiss a couple of factors out of hand – it wasn’t initiative tracking, and it wasn’t looking up rules. It wasn’t the initial combat set-up, either – that’s an overhead that would be incurred anyway, sometimes taking longer and sometimes not.

As he became aware of the trend, he started paying attention to the clock app he was using to analyze the time expenditure while GMing in an effort to identify what he was doing that was taking so long.

I’ll quote his findings directly:

…it was a combo of lack of preparation and lack of knowledge of the game rules. Boo.

The demons had a number of spell and supernatural ability options. I did not research these before the game. So I caught myself hitting d20pfsrd.com and researching my options before deciding each demon’s actions.

Further, I had no familiarity with the swarm rules. Those critters have a lot of specific rules pertaining to them, so I looked those up several times during the combat.

Another factor, but a minor one, was not knowing what mini belonged to each PC. That caused me to hesitate several times. I’d figure out a demon’s action, then realize I had mistaken a mini for another PC, and go back to the drawing board.

That’s three separate issues, but Johnn’s post doesn’t include any solutions, and neither do most of the comments, as I pointed out in response to the article – though a number of commentators said “I have the same problem”. There were a couple of other minor problems and potential problems revealed by the analysis, but Johnn included plans to deal with those in his blog post, so those don’t count.

This brings me to the purpose of this blog post: to suggest one or more solutions that I employ to get around these problems in my games.

The Assumptions

Several of the comments on the Blog suggested things that Johnn could do to prevent these problems in the form of game prep. I’m going to assume that, for whatever reason, no game prep has taken place.

I’m further going to assume that the goal is to reduce the overall time required to complete the combat – which went for 6 rounds. If one minute invested in additional set-up saves half a minute or more per round once the battle actually commences, it’s a valid solution to the problem.

Without a more specific breakdown of the time delays associated with each of the problems Johnn listed, it’s hard to offer a relative weighting. My own experience is that a short battle (3 rounds or less) emphasizes the Rules Knowledge problem (#2) while longer battles emphasize the Enemy Abilities problem (#1). That’s because the GM is learning as he goes, so any delays caused by the Rules Knowledge problem tend to be amortized (spread over) all the combat rounds involved.

In other words, the first couple of rounds contain a disproportionate share of any Rules Knowledge problems; as the GM comes to grips with how the subsystem concerned works, he needs to consult the reference material less frequently, and the delay that results is comparatively smaller as a result.

Ability problems, on the other hand, tend to recur more frequently from round to round, and are slower to decline. So the larger the combat, both in terms of number of participants and number of rounds, the greater the proportion of the overall time loss that can be attributed to this cause – and hence the greater the scope for time savings in the long run.

Spell and Supernatural Abilities

That makes this the problem in greatest need of a solution. It’s also the problem that – in my experience – occurs most frequently.

Whenever an encounter occurs, I spend a minute or so glancing over the abilities of the creature in question. I mentally categorize each ability into one of four types:

  • Defensive Abilities
  • Offensive Abilities
  • Tactical Abilities
  • Other Abilities

I don’t read the entries describing these in detail, just skim over them as quickly as I can.

As I do so, I am looking for the answers to a set of five specific questions:

  • What is the creature’s basic vulnerability? Some creatures are especially vulnerable to magic, some to good, some to evil, some to ranged combat, some to melee, some to fire… the list goes on. This question is a guide to the creature’s nature, but more importantly, to its tactics: if threatened with this type of attack, the creature will either make the wielder a priority target or will seek to avoid battle with that individual. Early in the battle, the first reaction will be more common, later in the battle it will be the second. I’ll spend 10-20 seconds deciding this.
  • What is the creature’s preferred attack mode? Some creatures will prefer to attack from a distance, others have touch attacks, some swallow, and so on. Again, this is a guide to behavior – once the creature’s preferred attack method is known, all the other attack methods it has at it’s disposal become ‘exceptional cases’ to be called apon only under appropriate circumstances. Again, I’ll spend 10-20 seconds deciding this – perhaps longer in the case of something with a lot of abilities, like a spellcaster or a Beholder or a Demon/Devil.
  • For each other attack mode, what circumstance would make the creature want to use it? I don’t try and remember the details of each ability, I simply decide when they will use it. If those circumstances don’t come up, I never have to look at the ability in detail. Once again, the focus is not on “what can this creature do” but “how will it behave?”. I’ll spend about 5 seconds on each. With a ‘typical’ creature, that comes to 10-30 seconds.
  • How can the creature best manage its tactical situation? This question sounds a little waffley, but that’s because it covers a lot of ground. It relates to how the creature moves, and whether or not it has certain feats, and so on. Will the creature hit-and-run, foregoing multiple attacks and enduring attacks of opportunity? Will it attempt to attack from a distance? Will it focus on a single foe, or engage multiple enemies at once? Is it faster-moving than any of the PCs? Are any of the PCs faster than it? With the earlier analysis complete, this step is usually fairly quick – another 10-20 seconds.
  • Finally, What’s its objective/motivation/psychology? With intelligent creatures, this actually tends to be the first question I attempt to answer, before I even skim the ability descriptions; with non-sentient creatures, or especially stupid ones, it’s the last question. Either way, this question attempts to sum up all the other ones in a single statement. I’ll spend 20-30 seconds determining this answer.

That’s a total of between 60 and 120 seconds in most cases, and it yields two distinct advantages: It focuses my attention on the abilities that the creature is most likely to use (largely ignoring the rest), and it makes it much quicker and easier to select a reaction to any developments on the battlefield. Both save time each and every round in the battle – so much so that I can often reach decisions on behalf of the creatures more quickly than the players can do so concerning their PCs.

The only time that this solution doesn’t work very well is when there are many different types of creatures in a single encounter. Even in an extreme case, though, it is still helpful – just not as much as it would otherwise be.

Swarm Rules Familiarity

This problem – and its kindred – are more difficult to solve, simply because while there are a number of solutions, there are no one-size-fits-all answers.

Enlightened Players

One of the key questions is how much the GM is willing to let the players know in advance of the combat beginning. There will be times when an enemy’s nature must be concealed, and times when he can be more open. In Johnn’s case, he might or might not have been willing to let the players know in advance that he needed the Swarm rules.

When secrecy is not an issue, get your rules expert – every table has one, it sometimes seems – to summarize the relevant rules for you. Get another player to locate the relevant rules for you. Johnn himself said: “Players are responsible for the rules – I almost never look them up.” When you can, put that expertise to work for you.

Ignorant Players

If it is necessary that you conceal the rules issue from the players, the problem becomes much harder to solve. When this happens to me, I guesstimate how much damage the PCs are likely to do, and roughly divide the total hit points of the encountered creatures by that amount to get some idea of how many rounds the battle is likely to take. I halve that to determine how many minutes I’m justified in expending on skimming the relevant rules. I try to reserve about 1/3 of this amount for use during the battle.

My objective here isn’t to know the rules backwards and forwards; it’s to know the rules enough to comprehend and choose amongst the options made available by the rules subsystem in question. The secondary objective is to know anything that is an “all the time modifier” to the standard rules, such “take no critical hits”.

During the battle

Each time the rules subsystem comes into effect, I jot down a summary of the relevant rule, unless its already on the list from an earlier round. “Many creatures treated as one larger creature – HD, HP INIT, Spd, AC” would be the first notation I would make concerning a Swarm, for example. “Half Damage from slashing and piercing weapons” and “Automatically do damage, no attack roll needed” are others. Until someone actually fired a spell at the swarm, I would completely ignore any rules regarding spell effects or immunities. [these rules excerpts were taken from the Pathfinder SRD “Swarm” creature subtype.] The more compactly I can summarize these, the better – they are a mnemonic device, not a complete summary.

The governing principle is “need to know” – as in, “What do I need to know right now?” If I don’t Need To Know It, I don’t want to know it. When I find that I do need to know it, it goes onto my behavior summary, so that I don’t need to go searching for it again.

After the battle

One of the techniques that I recommended in the still-ongoing “Rules Mastery” series was to keep a logbook, indexed, in which you summarize any rules information that you’ve had to refer to in the course of the day’s play – again, the objective is not to have to do it a second time. As soon as the battle is concluded, I would spend a couple of seconds transferring the rough notes gathered During The Battle (above) into the Logbook while the rules in question are still clear.

While this represents a small delay to play at the time, this delay is actually an investment in speedier combat the next time around.

One Creature

One final note while I’m somewhere close to the subject: I commented in the section on “Spell and Supernatural Abilities” that the solution posed there would not work as effectively when the combatants were of many different varieties. One way of overcoming that problem – at least in those cases where sentience and experience/expertise permits cooperative tactics – is to treat the group of enemy creatures as one big creature with multiple attacks, multiple hit point reservoirs, and so on. Instead of assessing the tactical options of individual creatures, this perspective enables the GM to use the groups’ overall objective to restrict the tactical variables for the individuals.

Identifying Minis

The final problem Johnn reports is that of correctly identifying who a mini represented, with time being lost redoing tactics because he thought he was dealing with one PC and it was, in fact, another.

This is described as a minor problem, and so it deserves a minor – i.e. quick and easy – solution. It just so happens that I have one.

I don’t use Johnn’s Initiative system, I write a list of all combat participants and their init totals, then rewrite the list into init order. In large or confusing battles, I sometimes have trouble remembering which mini is which character – the exact same problem that Johnn had. After a couple of errors of the same variety that Johnn describes, I started to list the minis next to the names. There is usually a one-word characteristic that is unique to each mini that’s in use, or perhaps two, and that’s all that’s needed.

Examples that I might very well use are “Luke Skywalker”, “Blue Robe”, “Curved Sword”, “Yellow Beard”, or “Dr Strange”. So long as it’s unique to the mini in question, it’s a good enough to identify the Mini.

So the solution is either for Johnn to make a list of which mini represents which character, or to write that 1-2 word description on the card with the initiative of the character. The first is probably less work and leaves the whole list accessible whenever it’s needed, so that’s what I would do.

Once such a list is compiled, it won’t change for the rest of the day’s play, and may remain valid over many game sessions.

It’s as simple as that – a list which shows “Player Name – Character Name – Mini Description” for each PC and NPC. Some people might also choose to include “Class” and “Level” but these change more frequently, and hence need more frequent updates.

The Ultimate Answer?

None of these will solve Johnn’s problems completely, and none of them will offer even a partial solution 100% of the time – but they should cut the administrative problems he encountered by one half, perhaps as much as 2/3. Instead of a total of 34 minutes 14 seconds (including 5 minutes overhead for set-up), it should be easy to reduce that total to 19½ minutes or less – a saving of almost 15 minutes – by employing these techniques. With a total time for the battle of 77 minutes 17 seconds, that would become about 62 minutes. If the circumstances are right, it might even be possible to cut another 5 minutes off the total.

But wait, there’s more! The better the GM understands what the NPCs/monsters are doing/capable of doing, the more quickly he can adjudicate player actions. The amount of time saved here is unknowable – it might even be zero, but with more time expended on producing a quality game experience by re-tasking the saved time. Either way, it’s a sure bet that this will also be an improvement in the game play. And that makes these techniques a win-win for both players and GM.

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My Group’s Time Thief Revealed – Chronology iPad App Review


Chronology for iPad

Chronology for iPad helps me time combats

I was curious to see how long combat encounters last in my Riddleport campaign, and how long my group takes on each turn to do our actions. I surfed around for a long time, looking for the right timer software, and then I finally found it, for the iPad.

This is a review of how long we took to play out our last combat, through the eyes of Chronology for the iPad.

Who’s taking so damn long?

Combat in our group runs at a pretty good clip. But I want it to go faster. I would like one more combat squeezed into our sessions without sacrificing any other encounter types or making sessions longer. That means making combat faster.

But first I wanted to learn where time spent in combat was going. I wanted to see who the culprits are. You know, the slow decision makers, the inattentive, and the dreaded rules lawyers. How much time were they leeching out of the fun?

I hunted down the Chronology iPad app. At the time of purchase it was $5. It had the features I needed:

  • Multiple timers
  • At least 7 timers (one for each player plus myself)
  • Count up (most just count down)
  • Each stop and start (one touch, any player, anytime)
iPad Chronology

All timers set up and ready

iPad Chronology

Timers after the combat

As a bonus, Chronology has other great features, too. It has countdown timers for when I put time limits on turns or for special encounter setups. “You have 25 minutes to stop the ritual. Go!”

You can also save the timers you set up as a set, and load that set anytime. That is awesome, because I can just load the D&D set of 7 times at game time and start using it. I also have a set saved for my internet business, so I can see exactly where my time is going each day. Saved sets let me swap my D&D and business timesheet sets out in two click.

Resetting a single timer or all is a single click.

You can disable sleep, which I found handy during the session. It would have been a pain logging in again after sleep mode kicked in, or disabling sleep mode each time I want to use this app.

For countdown timers, there are alerts and background alerts. You can even set what chime each timer makes when it reaches zero.

Another great feature: simultaneous timers. Last session I only had one timer running at a time, because it was only one person’s turn at a time. However, I was frequently involved in player turns, making players wait while I decided or researched something. So, next session I will turn my timer on while a player’s timer is running when I am spending session time during their turn too.

You can also cascade timers, wrap timers, and auto reset timers. I do not plan on using those for RPG, but they are there if you need them.

Oh, and you can adjust the current count of any timer. A couple times I forgot to start a timer or I left one running when it should have been stopped. It was easy editing a timer and changing its current time.

Screenshot

Timer options

Screenshot

Chronology options



Was it disruptive?

Players immediately noticed I was timing them. Nobody complained. I mentioned I was also timing myself. That seemed fair.

My Information Overkill system when GMing looks like this:

  • iPad to my left
  • Paper notebook and pen in front of me
  • Laptop to my right
  • Second monitor raised on a side table beside the laptop, for players

It’s a vice. Move along, nothing guilty to see here.

With the iPad right on my left (?), managing timers took no time at all (punny!). Earlier this year I had considered other options, including PC timers, stopwatch, and sand timers. They all had drawbacks that were too much for my tastes. I like to GM fast without props and devices getting in the way.

Fortunately, operating Chronology was a two tap operation each time. Current player stop, new player start. Round and round we went.

What did I expect?

I made a theory before the game about who the biggest time culprits were in combats. It is always good to check your own perception of reality against some facts. Real objective like.

I fingered two players for different reasons, and expected the total time spent on their turns to be equal to the total of everyone else’s combined.

For this experiment, I only tallied total time per player for the combat. Getting into round-by-round times is possible, but trickier and I wanted the timing of my first timed combat kept simple.

I also did not tally the type of actions. For example, how much time was spent making decisions versus calculating results versus rules checks versus chit chat and inattentiveness.

When it was each player’s turn, I said to the table, “It’s now your turn, [character name].” I tried to catch the player’s eye while saying this, but regardless, once my announcement was over the timer began. If a player was distracted, it would just add to their time used.

Two players had to leave the table for the call of nature. I decided not to keep their timers going in these cases. I wanted to be human about it, and this is still supposed to be just a fun game, after all. My players have excellent table etiquette, and everybody respects each other, so my goal with the timers was just to capture player turn length while at the table, playing.

The stats reveal the group’s time thief

What I found was unexpected. My theory was torn to shreds. Here are the results.

  • Number of foes: 8 (a CR 10 demon who summoned a friend, so 2 CR10s, plus six bat swarms)
  • Number of PCs: 7 – 5 (level 7) + 2 cohorts (level 5)
  • Location: Large cavern with pillars for cover and poison spore fungus patches in certain areas
  • Total time of combat: 77 minutes, 17 seconds
  • Number of rounds: 6 until the foes were dead
  • Crixus and his cohort: 12:59
  • Velare and his cohort: 11:42
  • Vigor: 9:19
  • Fane: 6:25
  • Hrolf: 3:03
  • The demons and swarms: 34:14

Wow! The GM is the slowest player. Here I was thinking a couple players might be the culprits, when I should have been looking in the mirror the whole time.

I did not record how I spent my time. I just recorded my total time spent on my turn, or between player turns when I had to do something for the combat.

I manage all the initiative, but my system is so sleek it only takes seconds per round to operate, so that was not part of the slowdown.

Players are responsible for the rules – I almost never look them up. So I normally cannot blame that.

I included the initial combat setup in my time. Drawing the map, laying out the monster minis, and kicking off initiative. If memory serves, that took about five minutes. I expect that to be a new timer next game so I know for sure.

So what’s my excuse?

As the combat clock ticked upward I spotted the trend pretty fast. My turns were the longest. So I started paying attention while GMing to what I was doing that was taking so long.

It turns out (punny!) that it was a combo of lack of preparation and lack of knowledge of the game rules. Boo.

The demons had a number of spell and supernatural ability options. I did not research these before the game. So I caught myself hitting d20pfsrd.com and researching my options before deciding each demon’s actions.

Further, I had no familiarity with the swarm rules. Those critters have a lot of specific rules pertaining to them, so I looked those up several times during the combat.

Another factor, but a minor one, was not knowing what mini belonged to each PC. That caused me to hesitate several times. I’d figure out a demon’s action, then realize I had mistaken a mini for another PC, and go back to the drawing board.

The stats revealed many other golden nuggets

First, player times were actually great. The slowest player only took 13 minutes, or 17% of total combat time.

With five players at the session, plus GM, if everybody received equal spotlight time, each person should receive 17% of the spotlight.

That will be my goal moving forward. Getting everybody 17% or equal share of the spotlight. At the same time, if each person’s turn is not wasteful, but not high-pressured either, we’d have fair and fun combats.

Next, the players with cohorts took longest. For one player, this is session #2 with a cohort in combat. For another player, it was his first combat with a cohort. I am not ready to draw conclusions here yet, especially because their time ratios were within my goal range.

Could be the cohorts caused extra time expense. However, the two player characters themselves are complex. One is a wizard, so lots of options to consider each round. The other is a min/maxed fighter who usually gets multiple attacks per round and needs to maneuver in place to get them.

So, it could be just the PCs causing more time needs, not the cohorts so much. We’ll see.

Another interesting tid bit is the times for Hrolf and Fane. The times are low, so I am worried about how much fun those players are having. Fane’s player records session notes on our wiki, so he is keeping himself busy, at least. Whether that is because his turns are so quick or whether he enjoys session logging, I’ll find out.

Hrolf was a brand new PC that session. The player retired his previous PC because he wanted to play a different type of character. Could be Hrolf was just figuring things out in his first combat, and will have more involvement in future fights.

However, it could also be the character is simple and has no other options.

A third possibility is the player p0wns the rules, is super efficient, or plans his turns in advance so there’s no delay when the timer starts for him.

I will follow up with Hrolf’s player between session to get his thoughts and reactions. If the player is super efficient, we will find out why and share the tips (and expectation) with the whole group. If the PC is just simple, then I have a couple ideas on how to make his combats more interesting.

Last, the whole combat took about an hour and twenty minutes. That was a combat with 7 combatants on the players’ side, and 8 on the GM’s. A 15 foe fight with sides being roughly equal in ability in 1:20 is good time in my books.

If that lazy GM would sharpen his pencil a bit, combat could go even faster!

Great news

Overall, this is the best possible news I could have received from the experiment. I cannot control the players. I can only control myself. If the opportunity for faster combats lies mostly within myself, then I have all kinds of options and ideas, and I can try them all because it’s all on me, within my control.

If it had turned out those one or two players I had initially fingered were at fault, I’d need to have some conversations, do some analysis with them, and work ongoing to shave time off their turns.

Instead, I just need to work on becoming a better GM. I also get a chance to try to get certain PCs more involved in combats so that we do an awesome trade of my time for theirs, keeping combat the same length or less.

For my group, with the current data at least, our challenge is not shorter combats as a whole, but shorter GM turns and longer PC turns.

I will let you know how it goes.

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Perfect Skin: Some Musing On The Design Of Monsters


Monsters generally come in three parts: Stat Blocks, Descriptive passages (which some people refer to as Fluff), and Templates, enabling you to add the “monster description” to an existing race – sort of an ersatz Class. Lately, I’ve been thinking about the differing values and usefulness of books on the subject. NB: This is an unabashedly d20/3.x article. YMMV with other game systems.

Reskinning

A year or three ago, Roleplaying Tips and my co-writer here at Campaign Mastery, Johnn, introduced me to the concept of “Reskinning”. The notion itself is simple: come up with an idea for a new monster, write the appropriate Fluff, then select an existing creature from your preferred source (The Monster Manual in the case of 3.x D&D) that most closely matches your fluff and use it’s stat block. You may need to swap out one or two of the source creature’s abilities with more appropriate ones, but in most cases creating the new monster becomes the work of minutes or seconds, not hours, days, or weeks.

This is a powerful tool, there is no doubt about that, but it is not without its flaws. It requires considerable knowledge of the sourcebook you are using – especially the dull and dry stat blocks – to choose the best creature to reskin. There are inherant assumptions about the usefulness and effectiveness of various abilities. And there is absolutely no guarantee of consistency.

The Monster’s Handbook

In my 2009 series, “The Gold Standard”, I recommended from Fantasy Flight Games. This book describes ways to upgrade creature types to make them more challenging, more unusual, or just plain different, and offers a well-thought-out system for adjusting the CR of creatures after you’ve tinkered with them. It looks at the strengths (and how to maximise them) of the different types of creatures, and the vulnerabilities / weaknesses / shortcomings of the creature types, and how to minimise them. It continues to be an invaluable resource.

It’s when you put these two ingredients together that you start coming up with some interesting new ideas.

Instead of treating The Monster’s Handbook as a set of blueprints for tweaking existing monster designs, consider it a bible for reskinning. All that is required is the insertion of an unwritten assumption: that the contents of the book are examples of how to reskin, and (by sheer coincidence) the skins chosen just happen to match the creatures that are normally associated with the fluff and base stat blocks.

Thus, the section on Giants ceases to be about Giants, but instead describes creatures that have been re-skinned as giants, whose core just happens to match the preexisting Giant.

A new type of Monster Compendium

Originally, that was as far as I intended this article to go. Subject complete, time to sign off with no danger of overstaying my welcome. But then another thought or two intruded. Sepcifically, I asked myself:

What is the ideal format for a Monster Manual that has been optimised for use in this way? It would be an extraordinary coincidence if the traditional arrangement were the best choice.

In order to reach an answer to this question, we first have to deconstruct the standard model, seperating it into its constituants, and then looking for the most effective way of putting humpty-dumpty back together for its new purpose.

Description

The description of the creature, in theory, contains the central theme around which all the other elements are arranged. The description justifies and explains the powers, the behaviour, the culture (where necessary), the psychology, the stat block contents – everything.

Stat Block

The Stat Block is the connection between the description and the standard game mechanics. The central concept of reskinning is that these stat blocks are – within limits of CR and other categorization considerations like creature type – interchangeable.

Feats

Feats, in this context, represent customisation elements of the stat blocks. The number of feats a creature receives is roughly determined by the number of hit dice it has.

Powers & Abilities

Spanning the gap between these three componants are the power descriptions. Changing, upgrading, or enhancing these is at the heart of reskinning. Sometimes, this is achieved by altering the feats list.

Template Information

Finally, some creatures contain information about using the creatures as the foundation for other characters and encounters, acting more as a preset group of alterations or a “standardized” reskinning operation. Want an Owlbear Ghost? Take the Owlbear writeup and add the Ghost Template – then get to work explaining it, or simply give the resulting compound a new name and decide “that’s the way it is”.

Universal Foundations

The concept of reskinning revolves around the use of the Stat Block as the central hub. The Description, suitably modified, is the wrapped around the stat block, and Feats, Powers, and Abilities all hang off that.

That means that the correct starting point is with a careful collection of stat blocks. These should represent all the permutations of CR and creature type.

Feat Slots, Power Slots

Each such “universal stat block” should also include a couple of new elements: a tally of the number of (empty) feat slots, and an entry listing the number of “power slots” for extraordinary attacks, defences, and abilities.

Standard Powers & Feats Lists

The next section of our hypothetical “master monster cookbook” would be a list of items to occupy those empty slots, with descriptions. Each extraordinary ability should be rated in terms of the number of slots that it consumes – most will only be one, but there may be a few – or perhaps a few combinations – that are adjudged to be more powerful, and hence consume an extra slot.

Employing slot requirements as a variable makes it easier achieve universality in the stat blocks; the number of slots available represents a fixed power level, making it more practical to associate them with a given CR.

‘Skin’ Descriptions

These three componants – standard stat blocks, by creature type, with a menu of powers and feats – form a universal foundation which individual ‘skin’ descriptions can draw apon. An entry consists of the usual descriptive text, plus a statement as to which elements from this foundation, plus any comments on how these choices should interact.

In addition, something that I would like to see as a standard element of all monster descriptions is “tactical advice for the busy GM” – how best to employ the creatures in battle. The current information in that respect often seems to be an afterthought thrown out by someone who has never played a game – I once read a ‘battle strategy’ involving the casting of no less than six spells before the creature entered battle in an official supplement (I’m not sure which one it was, now, so I can’t name names). I’m sure that the intent was for these to be cast prior to battle commencing, but the circumstances of the encounter were such that the chance that the creature could cast even a single spell prior to battle was vanishingly small, since they were almost certainly going to be taken by surprise. (Come to think of it, that might have been in a module – but the principle remains).

Available from RPG-Now, Just click on the image

Later Monster Supplements

The “Universal Foundation” forms the “core rulebook” for each creature supplement that is to be released. Third parties can add their own powers to the available repetoire, and their own ‘skins’.

That is what is needed to have a monster-creation system that is built for skinning. What do you think?

Disclaimer: This article was inspired by the receipt of a free review copy of “Tome Of Monsters” by 4 Winds Fantasy Gaming.

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City Government Power Bases – Land


This entry is part 9 of 9 in the series City Government Power Bases
What forces govern your city?

What forces govern your city?

In many societies, landowners have great power.

With all the economic, defensive, military, and strategic benefits land provides, most governments use this as a starting power base for their regimes.

For high fantasy games, consider land as an abstract concept that encompasses many possible dimensions. Land can be the ground, the clouds of sky realms, the flames of an elemental universe, or any material of the planes of alternate dimensions.

In essence, a government dictates that a certain area of “land” is under its control, and if one wants to live within that realm one must obey the government.

Strengths

Land is often taken for granted, but it is an essential ingredient for life. The basic needs of a populace are water, food, and shelter. Water can be obtained from weather, but that is often fickle. Instead, one needs access to a steady source, such as a lake, or river, and land always surrounds these geographic features.

Food has the same dependency: crops and animals require land to grow.

Shelter requires ground of some kind. Extreme, high-fantasy situations might create exceptions to these rules, in which case the value of land might drop somewhat, but these truths should encompass most societies. A government needs a populace, therefore control of a parcel of land is requisite for that populace to survive, live, and grow.

Another core strength is land’s physical nature. It’s a tangible thing. Ideology, money, affiliation, and other power bases are intangible and can be whisked away by a change of thought. However, land is physical and durable, and it can only be removed as a power base by other physical (or magical) means.

Think of the children’s game, King of the Hill. As long as the King can push away all other challengers, no amount of name-calling, pleading, or cajoling changes the situation. Where governments are concerned, no amount of legal wrangling, threats from other countries, economic sanctions, and so on can deprive a city of its land until a force moves in to physically take control.

Land is a reliable, stable, long-term, valuable. It is a necessary power base.

Weaknesses

Land is finite in most worlds. Hence, competition over it is fierce. Governments rarely cede land to its citizens – it always reserves ultimate control of it, even if laws and customs might lead people to think otherwise. Therefore, land needs constant defense and vigilance – things that incur costs in terms of building and maintaining defensive structures and a military.

In some cases, a government must defend the land against its own citizens, for as stated previously, anyone can technically claim a piece of land as theirs, and until they’re physically beaten, it’s a truth.

This brings about another key weakness: land has no allegiances. Certain groups in your campaign might gain benefits from occupying certain lands, but this is a one-way relationship only. The land itself has no allegiance to its occupants. For example, in your game elves might be attuned to wild lands, but the wild lands don’t care about the elves.

Remove the elves and the land is still there. You might grant blood rights, rulership bonuses, or domain powers to various land dwellers, but the land doesn’t require those dwellers to exist.

Under the watchful eye of a druidic society, the land might flourish with plants and animals, but the land itself isn’t dependant on the druids in any way – the dirt will still be there when the society passes on.

This lack of allegiance is a weakness, because it generally provides a government’s foes the same benefits and another reason for conflict.

Land is often immutable, except under exceptional circumstances of great magic, monumental effort, or extreme situations. If a chunk of land has physical drawbacks, there’s not much a government can do about it.

For example, a city sits between two great, war-like nations. The city cannot move its piece of land to a better, safer place. Most terrain cannot be easily changed either. It’s difficult moving mountains to create more cropland. There are many things a government can do to try to make its parcel of land more fertile, more defensible, or better strategically, but these efforts are often costly and last only as long as maintenance continues.

Flavor

Try to make your city’s land unique and distinguishable in some way. Develop the land so that its use as a power base requires ongoing effort. Perhaps an unruly climate causes seasonal havoc. Maybe natural cave formations allow monsters, rebels, and factions to hide, survive, and thrive.

Think of land as a finite, valuable resource and make a list of competitors: races, gods, rival cities and governments, critters, and so on. Picture how this competition could affect your government’s make-up and actions.

Individual land ownership usually conveys great privilege. What kinds of lands do various powerful politicians control and how does this impact their position?

For example, land often enables other power bases, such as through wealth formation (crops, minerals), affiliation (neighbors), or social class (neighborhood).

A politician’s land can be a facet of their personality as well. Where an official is from is often how they’re judged, and the conflicts their land presents (foul weather, rivals, type of land-use such as mining or farming) moulds what skills and experiences they have.

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Top-Down Plug-in Game Design: The Perfect Recipe?


Click on the image to see a larger version

As someone who writes about RPGs a lot, I am naturally interested in game design techniques and philosophy. As a former I.T. professional, I have discovered that a lot of the principles of sound program design practice also apply to rules design. With those as my starting point, I thought I would have a stab at defining an approach to the perfect game design – without actually getting too bogged down in actually designing a game.

Iterative Function

By far, the most powerful technique that I have ever found for handling complex systems is the Iterative Function. Applying a set of simple steps, repeatedly, compounds their effects to staggering levels, while keeping any given step manageable.

I’ve used this approach a number of times in different articles over the years, for example:

  • , which appeared in issue #308 of Roleplaying Tips to general approval,
  • (written as an article called “Chinese Whispers” after the schoolyard game), which was published as a reader’s tip in Roleplaying Tips issue #322, and
  • , a popular series here at campaign Mastery.

These are just a few of the more overt examples; the principle has been implicit in many of the articles that I have written here at campaign mastery.

The actual concept comes from Chess: each piece has only a few simple moves open to it, but the compound produces a game of staggering complexity. It also underpins computer software, where everything that occurs is the result of simple instructions executed sequentially, the power of which I learned when I first analyzed a (illustrated by the animation).

In mathematics, the concept is fundamental to what are called “Iterative Functions”, which are at the heart of Fractals and Chaos Theory, and can be used to produce Mandelbrot sets, like the one illustrated at the top of this article. The reasoning in terms of game design is elegant: Simple steps tend to be quick to execute, and if the interaction of those steps is a complex behavior, you get addictive gameplay with unobtrusive game mechanics.

Top-Down Modular Design

The perfect game system would have a very simple design philosophy and be built around the concept of .

Top-Down design means that you start with a summary of an overall function and subdivide the design into a series of logical sub-functions. Each of these is then further subdivided, this process continuing until your design achieves functional instructions, in this case, game mechanics, that are complete and self-contained.

An example of top-down design applied to the topmost level of RPG design might be:

  • character creation
  • adventure creation
  • character operation

It’s only when each of these is broken up into sub-steps and sub-substeps that the power of the approach begins to show itself. Starting with character operation the designer can list all the things that a player might want a character to do.

Defining a simple resolution system for each – and varying it only when necessary – also defines the key parameters that distinguish one character from another. Each of those, logically, must be generated in a sub-step of the character creation process.

The resolution system also defines the parameters describing the game world with which the character is interacting, which are the fundamental building blocks of the adventure creation item. At the top level of each of these actions, the description would be extremely broad: “move”, “explore”, “talk”, “fight”, “manipulate object”, and “learn” would be common to most RPGs. Some might have “cast spell” as well.

The Rules Core

The core system should contain the simplest rules possible to achieve the required functionality, and nothing more. The entirety of these game mechanics should fit on one page, two at the most, in a reasonable font size.

Standardized Subroutines

One of the ways in which this should be possible is the use of “standardized subroutines” – methods which are used over and over, in different systems. “Attempt an action” is would be one such standard. “d20 + modifiers >= target” is an example; this same technique should be employed throughout the game whenever any sort of check is called for.

Plug-and-play optional subsystems

The simplified game mechanics described so far are different from the approach of just about every RPG game out there, but are hardly different enough to be considered groundbreaking. The problem is that any sort of reasonably comprehensive game design can get you to this point even without employing the top-down approach; it is only by extending the technique one step further in game design that anything radically new is achieved.

Each system and subsystem can be viewed as a “black box,” with a defined set of inputs and outputs and a specified function. Explicitly stating the parameters of those black boxes permits the adoption of Plug-and-play optional subsystems.

Instead of the basic combat resolution system, for example, this approach enables the GM to choose to plug in a chapter describing a more detailed and complex system. So long as the basic inputs are the same and the basic outputs are the same and the summary of the functional purpose of the subsystem is unchanged, the bottom line remains unchanged. That means that the internals of the black box can be as complicated as you like, with as many bangs and whistles as are desirable, without altering the basic operation of the system.

What’s more, you can offer a choice of plug-and-play subsystems, each fully self-contained. This one has more complicated rules for ranged attacks. That one takes different combinations of armor and weapon into account in determining damage. A third might have a hit location system, or a critical hit system. And if each of these systems and subsystems is also designed as a black box using top-down design, then combinations are possible. In effect, each GM can customize the game system to the tastes of his players and himself.

Third-Party plugins – the Game Licence

This system is also optimized for the production of third-party plugins – contributions from other game companies. It needs a licensing system that encourages such participation by the broader game community. Something akin to the OGL system, operating in a similar manner to an affiliate scheme, would be ideal.

Instead of paying a license fee to use the logos and trademarks and the like, funneling a fixed percentage of the sales from third party producers back to the publishers of the original source material not only sustains the original publisher but encourages cooperative marketing. It would enable the original producer of the game system to sell copies of third-party “plugin” rules modules through their own storefront, and vice-versa – everyone benefits as a result.

Making it a percentage means that the rules are “open” for home users – people can publish house rules freely. Obviously, there would need to be policy restrictions in place to prevent abuse – and the “black box” approach to defining systems and subsystems enables this to be controlled to a fine degree, by restricting how much of the official rules any single third-party supplement can quote, modify, or refer to. These would be very tight for a free product or sample, and moderately restricted for for-sale publications. Similar restrictions – perhaps broader, perhaps not – would apply to home-users publishing rules on websites and forums, and the like.

The net effect of this policy would be to control the amount of system that can be replaced, encouraging sales of both the optional supplement and the original game system.

I would also include in the OGL the option for a publisher to purchase the rights to any “free” content, no matter where it’s published, for inclusion in “official” sources, at the discretion of those sources, at a fixed fee. If Joe Blogger posts a really killer subsystem that the game designers absolutely love, and want to incorporate officially, they can pay him to use it at a rate fixed in the OGL. It can be bundled with some of the publisher’s own ideas, and (in general) use the fan-base as a freelance R&D department for the betterment of the game. Another term of the agreement would mandate the assignment of credit where it’s due.

By keeping everything packaged in discrete black boxes, such rights purchases can be made on a per-use basis, so that the rights would devolve to the author – so that he has a foundation if he wishes to start his own self-publishing operation, or a different module publisher wants to use the same black-box.

Of course, this might all be pie-in-the-sky pipe dreams. But it seems clear that the OGL was a great success, but didn’t give WOTC sufficient control over the content for their satisfaction, while its replacement has been a comparative failure. It was annoying for game users as well – one publisher’s book on Clerics didn’t interface cleanly with another publisher’s book on deities, and so on. (I’m still peeved at the lack of integration between the 3.x Deities & Demigods and The Epic Level Handbook – if WOTC themselves can’t spare a page or two to integrate their products, what hope do the rest of us have?

Expanding Scales

A key requirement for me is that the design employs an expanding scale for physical phenomena. The Hero system does this for Strength, and I have seen attempts to employ the same approach to determining IQ: An INT of X is equivalent to an IQ of Y.

But by far the best use of this was in TORG by West End Games, still available through Amazon, which used a universal scale for time, distance, weight, and more. This enables game mechanics to work with relatively small and manageable numbers even when dealing with large objects. A value of “32” could be a month, a six-apartment building, or the distance from Paris to Moscow, or 2½ million of anything.

This gave the game a huge flexibility that was exploited mechanically in various ways. at Wikipedia has more information for those who may be interested, and Kansas Jim still has goodies at which unfortunately hasn’t been updated for some time.

The same system works for the vanishingly small, as well. But the TORG system didn’t really handle area and volume very well, and the category of “energy” was a missed opportunity (or perhaps an avoided argument). There was so much more that could have been built on the foundations of a very clever game mechanic, which continues to set the standard for me long after the publisher has gone belly-up.

Confining Maxima

The other area where games have traditionally not done well – and I can’t point at an example of best practice, there isn’t one – is that of Confining Maxima. This is a reflection of as it applies to humanoid abilities.

Essentially, if it takes a certain amount of effort to improve some ability by a certain amount, it should require more effort to then improve that ability by the same amount again. This essentially establishes a limit which is increasingly difficult to approach. For example, it might require STR 20 to lift 100kg. It might require STR 30 to lift 200kg. It might require STR 40 to lift 250kg, STR 50 to lift 275kg, STR 60 to add another 12.5kg to that total, STR 70 for a further 6.25kg, STR 80 for an additional 3.125kg, STR 90 for an additional 1.6125kg, STR 100 for an increase over that of 806.25g, and so on. In the example, the limit of ability, requiring infinite strength, is 300kg (which is not very realistic, but is a fair start). To move the limit, or shift the scale, something exceptional is required.

I have never seen a properly-developed game system of this kind, yet it is something that is reflected in real-life sporting prowess all the time. I once heard it expressed about formula 1 thus: “For $100K you should be able to get within a couple of seconds of the leading teams, per lap. For $500K you should be able to get to about a second off the pace. For the next 9-tenths of a second, it will cost about $0.5M per tenth – per year. For each hundredth of a second after that, you are looking at $100K each. In Formula One, you travel at the speed of budget. But cleverness and ability can find priceless shortcuts.” (I’ve probably misquoted the original, but that’s the gist of the comment as I remember it from the later 1990s).

The perfect game system would not only incorporate this phenomenon, it would somehow integrate it with the expanding scales system described in the previous section. The obvious techniques for doing so are scaling and offsets: a race can be stronger than humans by offsetting the scale with a racial modifier. +25k would be a small increase. +100kg would be more substantial, indicating that the race has STR 30 on the human scale (average) and can go 100kg beyond the human maximum. +200kg is extremely substantial, because it means that a member of that race with 20 STR is as powerful as a human with an infinitely high STR score.

Muscle amplification technology – levers and so on – could work on the same principle, and so could high-tech, machines, and magic.

Scope for Extremes

These offsets also fulfill another criterion that I consider essential: the ability to have characters – PCs and NPCs alike – go beyond the extreme limits of what is doable.

Would anyone doubt that a Bull Elephant, or a T-Rex, would be stronger than the absolute limit of human potential? Or that a Cheetah could run faster than the fastest human who has or will ever live?

The game needs scope for Superman as well as Clark Kent.

Controlled Failure Modes

One of the key responsibilities when designing software is ensuring that the program is equipped to cope with every manner in which it can possibly fail.

These vary from the fairly obvious (typing ‘a’ when asked for a number) to the extraordinarily subtle (overflows in data registers which are then parsed as executable instructions to the computer). Subtle ‘division by zero’ errors can cause all sorts of strange results – just ask a maths teacher or professor what “zero divided by zero” equals. If he knows his stuff, you’ll probably get a dirty look.

There has been little in the way of analogous effort put into the failure modes of RPG rules systems. Ideally, you want the system to ‘fail’ in a meaningful way, that is, a way that informs the user that something is wrong and gives some indication of what the problem is. Most rules systems are still at the “it’s an answer but it feels wrong” stage.

It might be that this is a problem with no solution, due inherently to the table-top nature of the game. Certainly it would take a genius far beyond my abilities to devise an answer. But in a perfect game system, there would be some means of verifying the answers a GM gets when he is forced to use his own judgment – at the very least, something that clearly indicates when a subsystem has been pushed too far, some sort of reasonable limit.

Optimization: Addition Of Whole Numbers and other trimmings

Beyond these elements, there are only minor items on my wish list for the perfect game system. One is the use of addition of whole numbers instead of subtraction – it’s easier, faster and less prone to errors. There are a number of other such minor items but they really would be just frosting on the cake.

Without getting into genre-specifics or look-and-feel, that’s my recipe for the perfect game system. What’s yours? What would you like to see?

The images used in this article were sourced from Wikipedia Commons.

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