Two of the most important skills that I added to the Hero System when I was writing my House Rules for my Champions campaign were Paranormal Physics and Paranormal Biology.

The first explains how powers work using game physics – and therefore can also be used to determine potentials that the character had not thought of, and training methods to bring them out. It can also be used to determine how powers will interact, and what unexpected weaknesses and vulnerabilities the character might have. It explains everything about the character that is not personality-related.

It can be used to make assumptions about how a villain’s displayed powers might work, and hence assess what else they might be capable of. Villains can use it to devise deathtraps that will be effective against the PCs.

The second examines the biological adaptions that are necessary or consequential to the operation of super powers.

For example, consider super-strength. It might result from the transmutation of the muscles into something else, or the ability to generate kinetic energy in the target, or the bending of space-time around the target, or the partial neutralization of inertia, or any of a dozen other explanations.

It is entirely possible for a GM to implement these skills without being able to utilize them himself, even in a game context; he simply has to decide that the use of the skill will reveal a vulnerability to hard radiation, or magnetic fields, or carrots, as desired. But verisimilitude is vastly enhanced when the GM understands the physics of his world and can actually provide plausible-sounding explanations instead of blanket pronouncements.

What’s more, the process of determining these outcomes can be just as interesting as any other roleplay, provided the GM has more than jargon to offer in reply to players’ questions.

Which leads me to the true substance of this blog post: to illustrate these points by quoting the research results from actual play in my superhero campaign. I have three of these to offer, but they won’t all fit in a single post; so this will be the first of three, with the others to follow at indeterminate intervals – basically, whenever I run short of time to prepare a full blog post, I’ll sneak in another one.

Some Preamble

To start with, it should be stated that the foundations of these descriptions was not my creation. The player decided what he wanted the character’s core powers to be, and what the visual effects of using them were. He decided that for some reason they wouldn’t work as well underwater (adding a limitation to make them affordable within the game system). He left it to me to explain Why all of these things should be so, and was astonished to find that there was a single theoretical “super-power” that could manifest in all these different ways – and more. The character is still exploring the limits of what she can do.

Nor did I decide how the investigation, which was carried out by another PC in-game, would proceed. That was left to the player of the investigating PC to decide, and the research was carried out in play over the course of a couple of game sessions as a subplot. Part of the results was conveyed to the player doing the investigation and fresh decisions on how to proceed were then made by that player. When all was complete, I compiled the notes and partial information that had accumulated and compiled them into a single report.

All this took place some time ago, in terms of real time – in 2001, actually. It’s now almost a decade old, and the secrets have long since been revealed to the player and discovered by the character. From time to time, I’ll interrupt with updates and side comments.

Some Context

In part, the choice to use this material, which was prepared as a game prop for “internal” use within the Zenith-3 campaign, has been prompted by an article by Fitz at Game Knight Reviews entitled , which referenced an article of mine from about a month ago here at Campaign Mastery, .

The central question of both posts is “how much should be game mechanics and how much should be roleplay?”. I believe that the two are not mutually exclusive, that game mechanics can inform and direct the roleplay, and vice-versa. And that’s what this article – and its sequels – hopes to illustrate.

And so, without further ado:

Power Investigations Journal Of Results

Subjects: The members of Team Zenith-3
Investigating Researcher: Warcry
Theoretical Consultant: Behemoth
Psychological Consultant: Ichigo

Warcry is the name of the PC doing the investigating. Behemoth and Ichigo are former PCs from the previous campaign, existing as NPCs in the Zenith-3 campaign.

Subject 1: St Barbara

Phenomena to be explained:

• Force Fields;
• Energy Projection;
• Flight;
• Electromagnetic Displays of some complexity are an observed and consistent side-effect, resembling “sparks”;
• Increase in power levels in Dimension-Halo relative to Dimension Prime.

Assumption: St Barbara has one ability which she has learned to manifest in various ways.

“St Barbara” is named for the now-defrocked patron saint of explosives and pyrotechnics. Her powers were all bought with “extra visible” and “extra loud” modifiers which have always been explained as being similar to the discharge of sparklers or fireworks.

When she fires her energy blast, the discharge starts at her hands and flies rapidly toward the target, where it explodes; when she flies, there are sparks all along the energy trail that she leaves behind, fading out with distance; when she erects her force-field, it’s invisible until struck, when it gives off a shower of sparks; and so on.

Known Paranormal Physics

“Force Fields” come in two categories, Magneto-Gravitic Radiation effects and Physical phenomena created through Psionics, esp. Telekinetics. A Third theoretical category involves altering the perceptions of the attacker through mental or optical illusions, but these can be discounted in this instance, and is not properly speaking a true force field, anyway. Energy Projections can be Electro-Magnetic, Electro-Gravitic, or Magneto-Gravitic in nature.

A fundamental part of the game physics derives from “The Day After Tomorrow” by Robert Heinlein. This novel postulates that there are “additional spectra” whose effects are as different as red and green are different from each other – conveniently ignoring the fact that these are just two colors, and the only reason they are treated differently is because of meanings and value associations that we humans have placed apon them. This part of the physics is unrealistic but entrenched within the campaign, and a good-enough science-fantasy vehicle for the in-game physics.

Preliminary Analysis

None of these account for the observed phenomena. Therefore, St Barbara’s abilities are something new to the study of Paranormal Physics. The increase in power levels in Dimension-Halo clearly implies that the phenomenon is physics-based, and is linked in some respect to the variations in universal constants, especially the speed of light, which are somewhat different in Dimension Halo in comparison to the accustomed values in Dimension Prime.

Preliminary Investigations:

Q1: was there any increase or decrease in the levels of electromagnetic side-effects proportionate to the increase in power levels – i.e., are the visual effects brighter or dimmer in dimension-Halo?

• “No Change” would indicate that the side effects are an outcome independent of the changes in Natural Law in Dimension-Halo, and are merely TRIGGERED by St Barbara’s use of powers, not CAUSED by them.
• “Increased Intensity” would indicate that the same changes in Natural Law that have increased St Barbara’s power levels in Dimension-Halo also impact the side effect, and therefore that St Barbara’s powers have two different consequences – the action performed and the electromagnetic discharge.
• “Reduced Intensity” could indicate that some form of energy conversion is taking place and that energies unused in generating the primary action are discharged as electromagnetic effects. The differences in Natural Law thus produce an increased efficiency of conversion in Dimension-Halo.

Q2: Is there any change in intensity in the electromagnetic side-effects proportionate with increases in Dynamic Intensity of Power Usage – i.e. do the visual effects get brighter if St Barbara generates a stronger energy blast?

• “No Change” would imply a causal, not mechanical, relationship, i.e. would have the same meaning as an answer of “No Change” to Q1.
• “Increased Intensity” would indicate that St Barbara is manipulation an external energy supply rather than generating the power internally. In theory, this would give her access to far greater power levels than she has thus manifested, but the existence of a psychological “defense” mechanism preventing individuals manifesting uncontrollable power levels is well documented in Paranormal Psychology, as is the impact on power levels of other psychological factors such as self-confidence, etc. Either of these mechanisms are adequate to explain why St Barbara is not more powerful.
• “Reduced Intensity” would indicate that there is some internal process supplying the energy involved. The mechanisms of such a power would be far more problematic than either of the alternative solutions; at peak intensity, St Barbara’s energy blast releases the equivalent of the detonation of 30kg of TNT in approximately 6 milliseconds. Allowing for typical energy-conversion losses, this means that her biology must absorb the equivalent of 37kg of explosives detonating internally without measurable internal consequences, and must then dispose of at least 7 of those, again without measurable physical distress. While not unheard of in the annals of Paranormal Physics, this usually requires substantial alterations in biological construction with extremely visual differences relative to normal anatomy. As St Barbara does not exhibit any of these physical adaptions, it must be assumed that this is an unlikely result, and if found, would indicate the risk of severe consequences to her long-term health, e.g. Radiation Poisoning, Cancer, Infertility, etc.

Results Of Preliminary Investigation:

Q1: St Barbara reports no change of visible intensity of visual display in Dimension Halo.

Q2: Increased Intensity Of Discharge measured with rising power releases. Also noted was an increased complexity of visual byproducts, suggesting that a more substantial investigation of the by-products might be useful. A significant percentage of the discharge (aprox 85%) lies outside the visible spectrum, however, which negates the answer-through-experience provided in response to Q1; an approximately 20% increase, 85% of which is invisible, is a VISIBLE increase of only 3% – easily unnoticed.

Theorizing: The results of the testing of Q2 imply that St Barbara can be far more powerful than she currently is. Her powers are either inhibited by a defense mechanism or through psychology.

If the need arises, it should be possible to artificially and temporarily boost her powers, either by overriding the defense mechanism (risk of both physical and mental damage) or by constructing an impressive-looking doodad that actually DOES nothing beyond convincing her that her powers have been boosted. To be effective in this respect, the device should be bulky, visually dramatic, and should provide some sort of feedback.

This does pose some risks however; in addition to possible psychological damage, there is the risk that the feedback will cause physical injuries because of a power-boost beyond anticipated levels.

To minimize the latter risk, careful indoctrination in the anticipated levels of power increase should be carried out before “activating” the device; and to buffer somewhat against psychological damage, indoctrination should imply some loss of control at the higher power levels, and the potential for side-effects. The latter suggests a “safe” mechanism for such psychological changes to take, and offers the potential of classifying the results as psychological Development, not Damage.

There are two further psychological risks: a psychological dependency on the device, and an inhibition against further increases in power level without outside “interference”. To help protect against the first, emphasis must be placed on the potential for injury, and the device should have a limited life-span. To prevent the second, it should also be emphasized that the “device” will only increase power levels to a point that they will eventually achieve independently. However, the risks, combined with the potential for no useful increase in power levels if the theory is incorrect, does mean that this action should only be carried out at a juncture of extreme need.

Physical Analysis Of Electromagnetic Discharge:

Analysis of the side effects of St Barbara’s powers indicated a changed atmospheric composition following the discharge of St Barbara’s Energy Blast. Elevated levels of Nitrous Oxide (NO2), Ozone (O3), Carbon Monoxide (CO), Carbon Dioxide (CO2), Free Radicals (O-, H+), Diminished levels of Oxygen (O2), Nitrogen (N2) were the primary results. While these are all byproducts of petrochemical combustion, relative proportions of the constituents are inconsistent with such an energy supply. Therefore, some other mechanism is required to explain these effects.

Initial spectrographic analysis of the discharge produced results consistent with superheating of the atmosphere, but no measurable temperature increase was detected in testing, and there were none of the audible phenomena (thunderclaps) associated with such an action. Nor does St Barbara’s energy blast resemble a lightning bolt – it is a defined beam of some sort which detonates in an explosive action at the point of impact.

There is also a measurable increase in Pion Reactions during such a discharge, in proportions and of a nature which are not consistent with any phenomena other than a gas-based laser beam, and then only within the path of the laser beam through the ionized gas chamber. While a laser effect would be consistent with the beam-like nature of the energy blast, it is incompatible with the observed results.

Researcher’s Notes:

Investigation of St Barbara’s energy blasts would appear to have led to a dead-end; hence I will now proceed to investigate one of the other manifestations of her powers in the hopes that the change of direction can shed further light on the overall mechanism. There are two primary abilities to investigate, both with visual side effects – Flight and a Personal Force Field.

As flight is, by definition, a mobile activity, it can only be investigated under laboratory conditions by restraining St Barbara’s freedom of movement. As this is likely to cause injury except at low levels, the results are likely to be less susceptible of analysis.

Therefore, an investigation of St Barbara’s personal force field is going to be my next step. However, this must be set aside for a more urgent inquiry into the physical transformation of Knight and into the Relationship between Knight’s Armor, DC’s Sword, and Mist’s Magic.

These questions will be explained, and answered in the last of these articles. For now, suffice it that Warcry is trying to explain and analyze “Magic” with science…

Field Observations:

Analysis of data automatically collected by my battlesuit during a series of encounters has shed further light on the operation of St Barbara’s powers, warranting an update of this research project.

A number of significant phenomena were detected:

1. St Barbara’s power level increases with emotional state, i.e. she is stronger when agitated or angry than she is when calm and controlled. This represented further evidence that the limits on St Barbara’s powers are currently psychological, not physical.
2. The character of the electromagnetic discharge varies according to the levels of atmospheric constituents. This suggests a new direction for testing of the energy blast, to wit, immersion in various “pure” atmospheres. For obvious reasons, Hydrogen is not suitable; but Helium, Nitrogen, Oxygen, Carbon Dioxide, etc, should all be tested, as should more exotic atmospheres such as Neon, Methane, etc.
3. In flight, St Barbara’s immediate environment exhibits a notable temperature drop of aprox 0.5 degrees centigrade, rising over time.

Power-Boosting:

Before analysis of the above was possible, it became necessary to implement the “Power Boosting” mechanism discussed above.

The device functioned as theory suggested, confirming the suspected psychological nature of the limits on St Barbara’s powers. Unexpectedly, there were a number of byproducts in the shape of new powers emerging subsequent to use of the psychological reinforcement. Principally, these include:

• the ability to shape force fields into simple constructs (no moving parts); and,
• a hypnotic ability.

Increases in other power levels have also manifested, and there appears to be no permanent psychological damage resulting. Interestingly, these powers are keyed to different colors of discharge, raising the question of combining them.

There came an occasion when I wanted several of the characters to experience “Radiation Accidents” that temporarily increased and/or altered their powers – without doing anything to their control over their abilities – as part of a number of plotlines that were operating at the time. These upgrades were all based on these power investigations, even though the players had not yet received the final results; in each case, the players decided they liked the package and paid character points to retain the new powers.

Analysis Of Electromagnetic Discharge in relation to newly-manifested abilities

Found time to test the “colour theory” of St Barbara’s powers. Results: they don’t mix to produce new effects. Within a given band of the optic spectrum, there is just one power; and when the threshold into the new “range” takes place, there is an abrupt shift into the appropriate colour.

In conjunction with Field observation 1, it has been pointed out that colors influence mood and personality, and has a number of personal associations e.g. “red” = “fiery, angry”, etc, in addition to the spectral consequences associated with physical phenomena. This explains the clear demarcation of powers – like the other limits of St Barbara’s powers, this is primarily a psychological effect.

With several promising new lines of enquiry, I hope to resume testing and analysis of St Barbara’s powers in the near future, and will further extend this report with the results.

Analysis of St Barbara’s Personal Force Field

Although the electromagnetic discharges for all St Barbara’s powers are visually similar, simply shifted spectrally one way or another, analysis shows that there are significant differences in terms of the byproducts.

The personal force field, while in operation, produces a marked decrease in carbon-dioxide levels and an equally prominent elevation in ozone and oxygen levels, on both sides of the field.

What’s more, the force-field exhibits several of the more peculiar aspects of superfluid behavior, in effect behaving as a room-temperature superconductor made of energy (this phenomena promises to lead to a whole new field of technological development!).

It’s easy to see what gets Warcry excited!

There are clearly two distinct aspects to the force-field, the physical and the energetic.

A limited superconductivity effect explains the latter; energy discharged into the field at any given point is immediately distributed throughout the field, conferring limited immunity to thermal and electrical energies.

The behavior of magnetic fields on the force field is also consistent with a superconductive “shell”, in that magnetism simply does not exist in a superfluid environment. However, the magnetic effects generated in adjacent atomic structures by electrical energy circulating throughout the field persist; so while St Barbara would not be susceptible to the more exotic aspects of Magneto’s powers, for example, she would take damage from such powers as though it were an electrical attack.

The force field is transparent to gravitic effects, and confers no protection against them. Similarly, the field provides no protection to electromagnetic radiation, which is consistent with it’s transparent nature. Analysis shows that the “colour” of the force-field is actually attributable entirely to the electromagnetic discharge side effect, and that the field itself is colorless.

The physical protections conferred by the force field remain uncertain. The field appears to be approximately 1 micron thick at most, and has no detectable internal bracing. However, the level of protection from physical harm conferred is far greater than can be explained by any material known or theorized at such thickness levels. Even collapsed matter would be insufficiently strong. In any case, there is no measurable increase in mass resulting from the erection of the force field.

Therefore there is some other mechanism at work in providing physical protection.

Consequences of the personal force field

It is fortunate that Gravitic effects are not blocked by the force field or St Barbara would find herself in free fall every time she erected it. She would also lose all communications with the team through the Champions Communicator, due to the electro-magneto-gravitic nature of the device; instead of merely having the systems locator systems unable to find her.

It should be noted that the Champions Transporter cannot lock on to St Barbara while her force-field is raised, however, and any attempt to transport her under those circumstances would entail complete molecular dispersion within the force-field – in effect, a disintegration effect.

Fortunately, there are other teleportation paradigms, and that used by Mist is one such; greater flexibility at the expense of reliability and precision. The tactical implications should be a subject of serious consideration. Also fortuitously, Ullar has not had the opportunity for extensive study of St Barbara’s powers, and is unaware of the effect of an attempt to teleport her while her force-field is in operation.

Ullar was the chief Villain (and, on occasion, a semi-trusted ally, but that was much later in the campaign). He was an obsessive, paranoid, brilliant, former hero (by his own standards) refugee from a distant world – from long, long ago and far, far, away; with centuries of scientific know-how at his disposal, but only the resources of the 1950s.

Analysis of similarities between Shaped Force Fields and Personal Force Field

Testing of the discharge and atmospheric patterns shows quite clearly that the two force field powers are identical in nature, and that the obvious differences between them are psychological in nature, i.e. that St Barbara thinks of her personal force field as a “second skin”, and that this is why it behaves in that fashion.

The primary differences are that the personal force-field is dynamic in form, moving with St Barbara’s movements, following her form (consequently, any protrusions from the most form-fitting of costuming will lie outside the force-field and will be vulnerable; costume accessories such as capes etc should be avoided).

Because she is thinking of it in a discrete fashion rather than trying to consciously shape it, she is able to generate a field of considerably more complex shape than is otherwise possible.

This phenomenon suggests that finding similarly simplistic patterns of perception should enable St Barbara to greatly extend what she can do with her force-fields. For example, a simple airfoil shape would be difficult to learn but would greatly enhance both speed and control of flight; throwing her personal force field around someone else is similarly merely a matter of training and practice.

The stumbling block in this respect appears to be St Barbara’s perception that she would have to consciously shape the field simultaneously to an individual performing actions of presumably some complexity; overcoming this limitation is purely a matter of adjusting the St Barbara thinks about the task.

Clearly, two educational directives would enable St Barbara to greatly enhance the usage she can make with these powers: (1) a clay-modeling course, to enable her to grasp 3-dimensional forms more readily and more flexibly; and (2) some sort of creative-arts course which would give her more experience in using her imagination in a conceptual format. For personality reasons, however, it seems unlikely that either would appeal to her.

Analysis Of St Barbara’s Flight Powers

Despite the difficulties spelled out previously, some simple testing has been conducted under field conditions, enabling some additional clues to be derived in terms of St Barbara’s overall powers.

Firstly, her flight clearly indicates that her powers are in some fashion kinetic in nature, involving movement of SOMETHING. Furthermore, field observations indicate that her flight acts uniformly on her body and anything else she is carrying, and that there is therefore no sensation of acceleration or of the overcoming of inertia.

This implies that she has somehow manifested some form of that old bugbear of science fiction, the inertialess drive. However, gravitic effects and existing motions remain in full operation, explaining why she does not immediately fly off the surface of the world uncontrollably, thrown off by the rotation of the planet about it’s axis, and about it’s star, and of the star around the galaxy, etc.

Over time, there would nevertheless be increasing errors in vector if flight were to persist for extended periods of time. Estimates currently set this error as approximately 100 km/hr/hr. That is to say, if St Barbara were to fly in a “straight line” for an hour, she would have an error of velocity in both velocity and location – up, down, and sideways – of approximately 100km/hr, and 100km. After 2 hours, it would be 100+200=300 km/hr, and 100+300=400km; after 3 hours, 100+200+300=600km/hr, and 100+300+600=1000km; after 4 hours 100+200+300+400=1000km/hr and 100+300+600+1000=2000km; and so on.

That this phenomenon has not been observed to date is irrelevant, because no such experiment has ever taken place. All her flight has been of a point-to-point nature with respect to one or more locations on the surface of the globe, has been relatively short in duration, and the experiment further assumes that no course-corrections take place; the lack of such behavior clearly indicating that such course correction IS taking place, possibly subconsciously.

The error factor introduced therefore only assumes significance under one of two conditions: extremely protracted flight (such that the accumulated error velocity exceeds her maximum speed and hence her ability to correct it); and/or flight at altitudes or under conditions that prevent course corrections through lack of visual referents.

In practice, St Barbara should seek to land after every 3 hours of flight, even if she immediately takes off again.

The “hyperflight” mode of her abilities permits a substantial safety margin, however; even for some hours after she begins to notice an uncontrollable drift upwards, downwards, or sideways, she can still force her velocity and error-correction to conform by engaging this flight mode.

This extends her flight-time limits to approximately 5 hours by calculation (assuming that uncontrollable downward drift does not result in a surface impact long before this limit is reached).

However, this limitation contains one additional false assumption – that St Barbara can fly no faster than her current top speed.

Furthermore, as has been the case in earlier discussions of St Barbara’s powers, the psychological factor is paramount. In theory, she should be capable of velocities of hundreds of thousands of miles per second (assuming that no injuries are sustained through friction, and that such friction does not inhibit her progress). As usual, the limitations on her powers are primarily psychological in nature, and if she is convinced that she is able to fly level relative to the planetary surface, her powers are quite sufficient to enable her to do so for close to 9 years continuous flight-time, without incident.

Instead of the uncontrollable drift conventional theory would demand, what would actually be observed is that the side effects – the visual display, the atmospheric transformations, etc – would grow more intense over time, exhibiting a geometric increase in intensity. This behavior is supported by field observations.

Working Theory Of Paranormal Physics, as applied to St Barbara – General

Compiling the results of the testing carried out has enabled a preliminary theory to be developed. That theory: St Barbara’s powers are, after all, electrical in nature, but are a new applications of this broad area of Paranormal Physics, specifically that electron shell structures are susceptible to some form of control, possibly of a Psionic nature. She is able to force electron “shells” lower or higher than they normally exist; when this influence is released, the shells revert to their natural configurations, but the electrons themselves must either rise or fall with respect to the nucleus of the atom, and this motion causes the behavior of the observed powers.

Impacts on St Barbara’s Powers of the working theory

This theory fully accounts for the exhibited powers, their characteristics, and their side effects:

1. Energy Blast: St Barbara raises the electron shells (and accompanying electrons) within atoms in a linear path to the target, then permits the electrons to fall back to their natural positions, starting with those closest to her, in effect behaving in exactly the same way as an electron pump is used in generating a laser beam. The electrons closest to her then fall back to their original configurations, releasing photonic energy. While much of this radiates away as optical byproduct, part of it is absorbed by the next atom in line, further raising its energy levels, and it therefore discharges more energy when it is released, part of which cascades to the next atom in line, and so on. When the beam is sufficiently broad to entirely encompass one or more atoms, of course, the likelyhood of another excited atom in the chain acquiring the additional energy grows toward the 100% mark. Eventually, a huge cascade of energy reaches the unexcited atoms at the target. Normally, these would simply become excited as the energy is absorbed and then released by them, but by inhibiting the usual mechanism for doing so (excitation of electrons), St Barbara forces the atoms in question to act as a unit – and there is therefore an explosion in the fashion of a container whose contents are heated until they exert more pressure than the container can withstand. During this process, affected molecular bonds are stressed, and some break, giving rise to the chemical byproducts.
2. Flash: This is a similar effect, without that final “containment”, so that instead of an explosion, there is a burst of light. For psychological reasons, in generating a “flash”, St Barbara “curves” the path of cascade into a self-linked loop, similar to a particle accelerator, and ends the cascade sequence at her hands, so that the burst of light is seemingly produced at her physical location. With effort and practice, in theory, she should be able to manifest this effect at a distance, just as she can her energy blasts.
3. Force Fields (2 subtypes): Compressing the radius of the atomic shells inwards breaks the molecular bonds of the atmospheric components, producing Ions. Suddenly expanding the shells of the electrons thus freed from their molecular bonds results in a free-floating electron “pool” distributed over the surface of the force field. Once removed from the surface of this phenomenon, the atoms tend to recombine randomly, but many are at a heightened energy state at the same time. Thus atmospheric components recombine to form the variety of substances detected as byproducts. Normal molecular agitation is perpetually releasing disrupted atoms from the “force field” and replacing them with new ones, one both sides of the field. The electron “pool” that results cannot be absorbed into existing atomic structures because the empty electron shells are forced by part one of the effect below what is normally an inner, filled shell. Hence, the surfaces of the phenomenon are superconductive by definition, and hence the superfluidic behavior and the protections against energy discharges.
4. Force Field effectiveness: The physical protection provided by the force-fields can also be explained by the working theory, as follows: Carbon Atoms have a known form that is extremely strong due to it’s molecular construction: Diamond. While St Barbara’s force field is much stronger than a layer of diamond as thin as the one postulated, the normal strength of the molecular bonds fails to take into account St Barbara “reinforcing” these bonds by inhibiting alternative atomic arrangements. That the molecular arrangement is forced and unnatural is shown by the residue of the effects, an equal mixture of graphite and diamond in molecular clumps of only a few molecules at a time.
5. Flight (2 subtypes): St Barbara’s Flight is electrostatic in nature, simultaneously repelling the ground and attracting her in the specific direction she wishes to travel. Seemingly the most prosaic of her abilities, this is actually the most awesome, once the underlying mechanism is appreciated; as it requires St Barbara to (effectively) ionize her entire molecular structure, seemingly without ill-effect, as well as manipulating in a sophisticated and cyclic fashion the arrangements of the electrons in the path she wishes to follow, while inhibiting the atmospheric atoms ability to physically move. (Since they are inherently more kinetically active than a solid object, such as St Barbara herself, and weigh far less, if this were not the case, her “flight” would only raise the atmospheric pressure around her without moving her anywhere). St Barbara therefore flies by means of an electrostatic “capillary” motion, continually dragged in the direction she wishes to travel. Of course, once she has passed a particular point, the electrostatic charge must be reversed to thrust her forward, and when the resulting electron shell disturbances collapse, they produce a photoelectric discharge – so she always leaves a trail of light to mark her path across the sky.
6. Hypnotic Ray:This is a variation on flash, which is itself a variation on St Barbara’s energy projection. Physiological testing of the effect has been minimal to date, but that testing appears to indicate a successive string of low-intensity light bursts synchronized with dilation responses in the pupils of the target. The result is a state of heightened suggestibility in the target, at the risk of epileptic fits and psychological damage.

Testing the theory – Implications for St Barbara’s powers

While this theory has the virtue of answering all the unresolved questions over St Barbara’s Powers, it remains unproven. It is fortunate that it was developed before the planned atmospheric testing could be carried out, as there are clear implications for St Barbara’s powers.

1. Predicted Effects: Pure Carbon Dioxide atmospheres:

• Force Field: While initially there would be toxic levels of CO2, erection of the personal force field would rapidly reduce these levels and release carbon monoxide and pure oxygen, in proportions of 1:3. Within only a few minutes, the atmosphere would become breathable, if unpleasant. Equilibrium of atmospheric should be achieved at proportions of 12% CO2, 18% CO, and 70% pure oxygen. The force field will be unchanged in resilience.
• Flight: Efficiency reduced aprox 95%. as the atomic structures are particularly weak in electrostatic attraction. Slight contamination of CO2 atmosphere with Carbon Monoxide and Oxygen, totaling aprox 4% of the atmosphere.
• Energy Blast: Will produce pure oxygen in a similar fashion to the force field but at under 1/2 the conversion rate, leaving an atmosphere that is still toxic.

2. Predicted Effects: Pure NO2 atmospheres:

• Force Field: Aprox 70% effectiveness loss. Pure Oxygen produced in ratio of 3:2. Atmosphere produced will be contaminated by “laughing gas”, which is toxic at sufficient concentrations.
• Flight: Normal efficiency levels. Atmospheric byproducts as per force field.
• Energy Blast: Aprox 15% stronger. Byproducts produced in ratio 3:2 as per Force field.

3. Predicted Effects: Pure Methane and Methane-dominated atmospheres:

• Force Field: This would generate dangerous concentrations of Hydrogen Gas on both sides of the force field.
• Flight: Aprox 7% stronger. However, the power would both generate and ignite a trail of Hydrogen gas. As Methane atmospheres normally contain substantial quantities of free Hydrogen, potentially the entire atmosphere would ignite/explode.
• Energy Blast: As per flight.

4. Predicted Effects: Pure Oxygen atmospheres:

• Force Field: Aprox 70% efficiency loss. Carbon Dioxide exhalations recycled into oxygen atmosphere.
• Flight: +7% efficiency, some minimal carbon dioxide contamination.
• Energy Blast: +15% efficiency, otherwise as per flight.

5. Predicted Effects: Underwater

• Force Field: Aprox 15% direct efficiency loss. A further 60% efficiency loss would occur through electrification of the surrounding area. This will hazard both St Barbara and those around her. Liquid water will be separated into bubbles of Hydrogen and Water in proportions 2:1, a known explosive ratio; furthermore, these gasses will immediately react in this fashion due to the electrification of the water.
• Flight: Aprox 60% efficiency gain, plus a further 60% efficiency gain expressed as electrification of the wake. Note that resistance will be much higher, and that at top speed injury is possible. This should not affect St Barbara, but may harm others in the vicinity. Note that currents and eddies will cause the wake to drift, possibly rapidly. There will be Hydrogen explosions as per Force fields.
• Energy Blast: Aprox 250% efficiency gain. Note that effects will be observable throughout the path of the blast. There will be Hydrogen explosions throughout the effect path as per Force fields. Unlike the primary effects, these explosions will drift with the currents and eddies.

6. Predicted Effects: Space

• Force Field: In space, the large quantities of charged particles (the ‘solar wind’) will compress the force field slightly on the sunward side and expand it greatly on the shadow side. The field itself will be considerably weaker but it will be substantially more difficult to target St Barbara. Shaped force fields will undergo considerable distortion; St Barbara should be able to overcome this problem with additional time and concentration.
• Flight: The same phenomena that affect St Barbara’s Force Fields will make it far harder to accelerate, by a factor of approximately 10, however St Barbara’s top speed will be raised by a similar proportion.
• Energy Blast: Essentially unchanged in intensity, but with range multiplied 100-fold (with attendant targeting difficulties).

To date, none of these effects has come into play. So far as I am concerned, when the player bought the powers, she was buying the ability to cause certain effects under normal conditions; under unusual conditions, all bets are off. Some conditions will enhance powers, others diminish them. This means that all abilities must be considered within the context of the environment, just as though they were a real physical effect in the real world. The difference between employing a game physics to decide these context-based variations is that the players know the decisions are neither arbitrary nor capricious; if they are clever enough, they can anticipate problems and take advantage of opportunities.

Conclusions

St Barbara’s powers are both simpler and more complex than they appear on the surface. Simpler in fundamental principle, more complex in that there are a multitude of potential manifestations, which St Barbara has only begun to explore. Amongst the many possible powers she could learn to manifest are:

• Energy Drains and Blocks of electrical currents and circuits, and short-circuiting of the same;
• Direct attacks on mental and autonomic functions;
• Energy blasts which twist around obstacles;
• Molecular Disruption attacks;
• The ability to disrupt atmospheric pollution, oil slicks, etc.

Her potential power levels are easily 20-50 times those currently achieved. The most serious obstacles to realizing these potentials are psychological in nature, and are largely related to self-image and self-confidence issues.

For the record, the player really liked the idea that the only real limits to the characters’ power was what was going on in the character’s head, and more, that because of who the character was as a personality, that this was unlikely to ever change. He has since bought some of the additional abilities specified above.

There are a number of probable side effects to St Barbara’s powers of which she should maintain awareness. Under normal circumstances, the most significant of these is the hazard posed by the Champions Transporter System, who’s molecular scanning, encoding, and reconstruction data are corrupted by locking on to materials contained within one of her unique force-fields.

No experimentation has been carried out to confirm this effect; in theory, enough energy is released by a 50kg weight exposed to this combination of effects to replicate the explosion at Hiroshima. Even testing with a pin would be sufficient, if the theory is in any way correct, to completely destroy the transporter chamber and mechanism and to significantly damage the rest of the Base.

Further Research

Certain tests can and should be undertaken to verify the theory postulated. Those atmospheric tests considered safe to conduct should be undertaken. Under careful supervision, cautious underwater and space experience should be sought. Training and Education designed to enhance self-confidence, assertiveness, creativity, and 3-dimensional visualization should be investigated.

That said, the team has far more pressing investigations which need to be conducted. St Barbara’s abilities are sufficient to contribute to the team, and this research can be conducted at a future point in time when she recognizes on her own behalf that she is not achieving her potentials.

Having a detailed and operational game physics is by no means necessary, but as this article, and the series on that I posted last year clearly show, it can be very useful. Whether the ‘report’ is pitched too pseudo-scientifically “high” for you to understand, or not, it certainly sounds more “plausible” than a total absence of explanation. It enhances the understanding of the game world for both GM and any players willing to take the time to learn the lessons it offers. It enables the GM to shortcut the adjudication process by permitting the application of his knowledge of the underlying physics; and it can provide an additional source of important plots and subplots, stories that are based on the characters being who they are. That’s a lot of reward for not a lot of effort, given that you can crib most of the answers from existing science and science-fiction reference!

Religion, spirituality, and ideology make excellent government power bases because they are powerful sources of influence, prestige, and affiliation.

Religion and cosmology varies from campaign to campaign, but it’s likely gods do exist in your world and they imbue certain, devout followers with spells and special powers every day.

Even if your current campaign has no divine entities or magic, consider how powerful and influential various religions have become in Earth’s mundane history.

Governments can follow several different paths when employing a religious power base:

• Religious official. Religions have their own governments, and officials within it are often granted various rights, privileges, freedoms, or powers. If a religious official were given civilian government official status, that person could have an edge over his less pious peers.
• Theocracy. If the city’s government is religious, then any level of affiliation with the religion(s) involved would be a boon.
• Membership. Governments and politicians can gain influence and popularity when appealing to fellow members of their religion.
• Cleric powers. A devout follower might take on one or more cleric class levels. See the section on magic above for information about spell power bases.
• Affiliation. A government or official might ally with a particular religion to receive support, capital, and other benefits.

Strengths

Belief can stir up powerful emotions and convictions amongst part or all of a city’s populace. A government that shares beliefs with those it governs can establish a healthy and productive relationship with its constituents for the benefit of all.

A government can also wield belief, for good or evil, for its own purposes to get things done and to pursue its various initiatives. Belief is a hard thing to break, so religious power bases are often long-lasting and robust, as they can survive scandals, bankruptcy, war, and other short-lived conflicts.

Having a church or religious movement as an ally can supply much-needed support, votes, capital, political infrastructure, and wisdom. As long as the alliance continues, resources are available up to the limits of the relationship and the depth of the religious institution’s power.

Governments who gain the approval or possibly even the active support of the gods are powerful indeed. This approval might be public knowledge or a secret within the upper echelons of power. Gods have their own needs, goals, and agendas, so it’s entirely possible a government can politic with divinity.

Weaknesses

Religious organizations have their own needs and struggles and will expect something to come back its way from the government in exchange for its power base services. In some societies, religious organizations might have power and influence greater than the civic government’s, and such a government runs the risk of becoming a puppet. Consequently, a city government might have to continually resist religious influence on policy and governance.

Belief is something the government cannot control either, so its affiliation options are often dictated to them, either by the citizenship’s preferences or the regime’s, and if no favorable candidates are present, then the government must compromise or choose another power base.

Religions sometimes attract or create fanatics. These people can be dangerous to a government if there is an affiliation. They might create a scandal, go rogue, have diverse agendas, use questionable methods, and ally with other parties anathema to the administration.

In addition, religious organizations have their own enemies and detractors, and any strong affiliation usually makes these parties enemies of the government as well.

In the case of a theocracy, where government and religion are one, the power base might be limited by the dictates of the god(s), religious ceremony, and various restrictive procedures and religious laws.

Flavor

Aside from creating a theocracy, you can introduce religious flavor into your government a few different ways:

• The will of the religion conflicts with the will of the government. While the government uses a religion as a power base, it tries to resist the dictates of religious leaders who might want opposing churches disbanded, other religions weakened or made illegal, land concessions, tax concessions, or other privileges. A church versus state plot thread can spice up any campaign.
• The will of a religious official conflicts with the will of a government official. Consider bringing a church versus state conflict to a personal level between a politician and a religious leader. While the government and the religion might have a harmonious or workable relationship, one or more individuals within the organizations might be at each other’s throats.
• The face and form of the government reflect a religion. Perhaps your city is in the early stages of forming a theocracy, or perhaps the religion is just subtly influencing the government. Regardless, the holy symbolism, trapping, and rites of a religion are slowly being integrated by the government. Perhaps the officials start to wear symbols of the religion as part of their official uniforms, or special prayers are said before various government functions.
• Religious power bases are great for conspiracies. Does a god really control the strings? Is a religion behind the government’s recent unusual actions? Has a key government official or government group been subverted by a religion? Who is controlling whom, and what effects is this having on the populace?

Religion offers a rich area of city design. Pantheons, divine magic and miracles, politics, and worldly aspirations make religion a colourful city government power base.

During the last week, the RPG Bloggers Network brought an interesting post to my attention: “Discussion: Time Gaps” at Reality Refracted.

This got me to thinking about the hierarchy of abstraction, and how often we (GMs) move from one level to another in the course of a typical game session, and how we can use a seemingly inappropriate level of abstraction to manipulate time and mood and pacing and other aspects of the game, often without realizing exactly what it is that we are doing.

It occurs to me that if we, as GMs, actually understand the techniques that we are employing to achieve different impacts apon the game, then we can do so with more polish, finesse, and deliberation.

And that’s a train of thought that leads inevitably to this article.

The Six levels of Abstraction

There are six levels of abstraction:

• the mechanical layer
• the activity layer
• the conversational layer
• the abstract layer
• the metagame layer
• the reality layer

This article will look at each of them in turn.

0. The Mechanical Layer

This is the level of abstraction at which combat and other game-mechanics effects take place. Time is strictly regulated and events occur in a precise sequence with a precisely defined duration. It’s not abstract at all, in other words.

1. The Activity Layer

Operating at a slightly more abstract layer are skill rolls and other game mechanical effects that require interpretation by the GM and description of the results or outcome. While the content is more mechanical than abstract, these analyses by the GM are more abstract than mechanical. Activities in this layer bridge both mechanical and abstract.

GMs can also run combats at this level, in what I think of as a more cinematic style than that of the full game mechanics. How that works is generally different from system to system, but in general, each player gets a turn, describes what they are trying to do and rolls a die or set of dice to determine how well they achieve whatever they are attempting. As GM, I then adjust the result for what I know of the PC, what I know of the NPC, what I know of the circumstances, and interpret the result as a narrative.

Time in this layer is highly subjective most of the time – a single die roll may reflect or describe seconds, minutes, days, weeks, or even months of activity.

2. The Conversational Layer

This layer comprises all communications that take place “in character”. This might be conversations between PCs, between NPCs, or between both. Like the activity layer, these activities can bridge both mechanical and abstract layers, but they occupy three distinct loci of abstraction along this bridge: words accompanying a die roll against an interpersonal skill clearly exist at the edge of the activity layer; words spoken “in character” occupy an intermediate position within the layer; and a character describing what his character is going to say in the 3rd person is relatively abstract.

Combat can also occur at this level of abstraction, employing a shared narrative technique with no dice at all. This operates in a round-robin approach in which one player narrates part of the action, up to a point at which the GM is required to respond to the action; he then narrates the next part of the action, before handing the symbolic baton to either a new player or back to the first.

Once again, time ranges from the very specific to the very abstract; it takes no more time for words spoken in character to be uttered in game than it does for the player to speak them, while an entire 30-minute speech may be summarized and synopsized into just a few seconds at the abstract end of the conversational layer.

3. The Abstract Layer

The third level of abstraction is the most abstract of all those that contain in-game events. This is reserved for players describing character actions with no game mechanics required, and GMs doing the same for NPCs. “Lubo pours half his flask of scotch into the coffee” occurs at the abstract layer.

It should come as no surprise that there is a form of combat at this layer of abstraction as with all the preceding ones. The combat at this level is “abstract simulation”, and it can be a difficult one to describe in hypothetical terms, so I won’t try. Instead, here are a couple of examples that should make the concept crystal-clear: To simulate aerial combat between superheroes in my Zenith-3 campaign, I use “Blue Max”. I have a simple system to equate the aerial characteristics of each participating character to a particular model of aircraft, and mark off damage to a level that’s appropriate to their relative physical characteristics.

In the past, I have also used Chess, Orbit War, Starship Troopers, Hacker, Naval War, and Poker to simulate various aspects of combat and pseudo-combat. I’m forever on the lookout for a WWII-period naval wargame that’s not too complex for use in simulating fleet actions in space.

Using another game’s mechanics to simulate an abstracted form of combat in your game opens a world of possibilities. Consider using Poker to simulate a trade or diplomatic summit, where each player represents a particular faction, each hand a particular issue, each faction has a maximum amount of funds they are permitted to risk in getting their way in that issue, and the relative value of the hands indicates how closely the outcome fits with that faction’s desired outcome. It takes a little prep work to set up, but weeks of grinding negotiations can be simulated in a few minutes of interesting play.

These examples should make it clear that time is exceptionally fluid in the abstract layer. This is the layer that the original article at Reality Refracted addresses in its discussion of great passages of game time between periods of less abstract play.

4. The Metagame Layer

This is the layer at which Reality Refracted’s 6-month “jumps” take place. In essence, at this level of abstraction, the player is no longer interacting directly with the game world as it is; he is looking abstractly at the entire campaign and his role within it. Much the same device is frequently used in Novels, where some time may have passed between one chapter or section and the next.

In some ways, this is equivalent to the player telling the GM, “Wake my character when something interesting happens”.

When interacting at this level, players are no longer concerned with game mechanics at all; instead they provide some abstract goal for their characters and wait for the GM to respond. This response is usually in the form of a narrative, which the players or GM can interrupt at any time to move to a less abstract layer if warranted.

I’ve found (as a rule of thumb) that the fewer the players the campaign has, the more time can be spent at this level. I once ran a solo campaign (a spinoff from my primary superhero game) that rarely left this level, and there are some substantial benefits to it.

Time becomes a well-tailored suit instead of a straightjacket; you can skip over the boring bits with a narrative summary and move straight to the interesting bits. Because you are beyond any substantial game mechanics and working directly with character concepts and ambitions, you also shed most of the opportunities for cheating. Game play becomes a shared narrative experience between player(s) and GM, a co-plotting session that has as its ultimate objective, moving the campaign from point A to point B (sometimes by way of points C, D, and E).

Combat is possible at this level by the same mechanism, and there are times when this is the best option – for example, when describing the events of a war. When there are simply too many characters involved, even the abstract level can be too detailed; instead a general description of recent events should be employed when the characters are in a position to “catch up”, and the game should otherwise focus on smaller, isolated scenes within the overall battle. Very rarely does a field unit in combat have the opportunity to see the big picture; usually it has a very specific objective and limited opposition to overcome, and no idea how their little piece of the war relates to the overall flow of events.

In fact, much of the material in “This Means War!”, the article series that I wrote on how to conduct wars and large-scale battles in RPGs in 2009 is designed and intended to take place at the metagame level (parts of it are intended for the abstract and the activity layers but the principle remains). Most of the article is about translating the mechanical layer of the game upwards into a different abstraction than the usual.

Another type of activity that occurs at this level of abstraction is players planning how their characters are going to evolve in the future. In class-based systems, this can be “what class level are you going to take next?” or “what is the next feat you intend to take?”; in classless systems, the equivalent is a shopping list of future improvements in abilities. These are useful to the GM because he can work in small references to the character acting to achieve these goals, whether it be studying a tome of knowledge, attending a class, or whatever.

Three Types Of Campaign

Most people are aware of the concepts of Serial and Episodic campaign types, though perhaps by other names. In the serial campaign, there is strong continuity from adventure to adventure, while in the episodic campaign, each adventure comes to a full stop with a noticeable time interval before the next one starts.

Employing the Metagame Level as a framing device permits the characters and their circumstances to evolve “in between adventures”. The adventures themselves are still standalone events, each isolated from the next and with concrete start, middle, and end; but there is an evolution of the background and relationships. The result is a third campaign style, the “Semi-serial” or “Semi-episodic” (depending on which way individual adventures trend).

4b. The Temporal Compression Sublayer

There are a couple of sublayers within the metagame layer that are worth separate discussion. The first of these is the temporal compression sublayer. “It’s going to take your letter to the King at least three weeks to arrive, what do you want to do in the meantime?” is an example of this.

When I was first starting the Zenith-3 campaign, I permitted the players to ask me written questions that their characters were researching the answers to at the end of each game session. I would then evaluate the depth of research required to answer the question, and frame a (written) response at a level of abstraction that was consistent with the character and the complexity of the answer. The responses were categorized as “preliminary”, “incomplete”, or “final”.

An example might be “How is South America different in this alternate reality?”. A preliminary answer would simply state that the Aztec and Mayan civilizations fought off the European invaders. An incomplete answer would describe the process of the individual campaigns and devote a paragraph or two to the failed wars of conquest and how they were lost. Only when the “final” answer was received would rare photographs of the natives make it obvious that these civilizations were populated by Intelligent Dinosaurs who didn’t like to have their pictures taken – a piece of information so fundamental that it was taken for granted by the easily-accessible sources referenced for the earlier two answers.

Of course, a character can declare himself satisfied at any point and move on to fresh research – which is how it came as a rude shock to the players when they were captured by a hunting party of Saurians!

Most GMs compress time regularly, in other words make brief excursions into the metagame level. Whenever the GM skips over making camp, cooking a meal, setting a night watch, standing watches, cooking another meal, and breaking camp, he is compressing time.

At low levels in my D&D campaigns, I tend not to do this, making the players feel every step that their characters take, because it gives me the opportunity to sneak in bits of campaign background and flavor before it has substantial impact. As the characters go up in level, I will first time-compress overnight watches when nothing of significance happens, and then whole legs of journeys from one town to another, and then entire journeys: “It takes 3 weeks. You are there.”

4c. The Temporal Expansion Layer

It is equally possible for the GM to stretch time, describing a complex series of events in far more time than these events supposedly take place. This is frequently done to provide descriptions (narrative = abstract layer) of places, people, and events.

4c. The Campaign Briefing Sublayer

Another vital sublayer is the Campaign Briefing, which is necessarily couched at the metagame level, unless it is to be a full or partial novel in scope. Like the other metagame levels, this is devoid of game mechanics, but at the same time, inextricably linked to them in the form of house rules.

Every House Rule should not only be justified by the Campaign Briefing, but the overt consequences of the House Rule should be incorporated into the Briefing so that the players know what to expect, and how those rules emerge from the world concept, and shape the game world.

Some of this material can be excised and built into early adventures which exist for no other reason than to educate the players in this respect, and this is often a preferable arrangement – it avoids overload. When that approach is adopted, it’s fair to consider the opening adventures in question to be an interactive component of the campaign briefing.

This signposting of House Rules and shaping of the metagame experience should be characteristic of all activities conducted within the metagame layer. The campaign briefing not only establishes the important concepts and circumstances that will surround the PCs when play begins, it sets the tone and style for future metagame interactions.

4d. The Character Metalayer

The final metagame level to be considered is the interaction between characters and players. This interaction is where the player decides how his character will react to the totality of what he has experienced in the course of the game, and what he anticipates needing in the future.

This is the level at which the character’s hopes, dreams, aspirations, and ambitions are decided, together with a development and activity strategy designed to achieve them.

5. The Reality Layer

It is, of course, only a theoretical ideal that the character’s direction is shaped purely by the personality, circumstances, and experiences of that character. In the real world, everyone should know better; the personality and skills of the GM shape the game world, and the personality, ambitions, and skills of the player shape the PC. The reality of gaming is that there is a fifth layer, the reality layer, and there are some interesting aspects to it.

For example, one could ponder the relationship between real time and game time. The first is clearly a function of the reality layer, and the second relates to the other four layers. They operate independently, in theory, but the two are nevertheless connected. The more often a campaign is played, the lower down the scale of abstraction layers it will tend to be. When a campaign is played less frequently, the relatively mundane and trivial encounters that do nothing but add flavor are often sidestepped or ignored in favor of progressing the plot. There is greater pressure to make screen time count.

There is the relationship between a player’s mood and the actions of his character within the game. PCs can be used to vent frustrations, or to provide an escapist relief from real-world burdens.

And yet, strangely enough, combat at this level (ignoring fisticuffs between players, or players and GM) is identical to combat at the Mechanical layer – it is the rolling of dice and the consultation of character sheets. The layers of abstraction form a closed circle.

Every character is a bridge between the Metagame Layer and the Mechanical Layer through the Reality layer.

Using The Layers Of Abstraction

Some of the most powerful weapons in the arsenal of any good GM are the players themselves. By manipulating the players, the GM can influence the behavior of the PCs under their control, altering the shape of the game as a result.

If you make the PLAYERS nervous, you will make the CHARACTERS more timid. If you make the PLAYERS uncertain, the CHARACTERS will become hesitant. If the players are overconfident, it’s the characters who will rush in where an angel might fear to tread.

One of the most powerful tools the GM has for manipulating players is the layer of abstraction at which events take place. Incursions into the narrative (metagame) layer, perhaps accompanied by illustrations or other mood-setting surroundings, can induce everything from an air of romance to fear or horror. Staying away from the metagame layer, or using the metagame layer to compress time instead of expanding it, increases the sense of distance between players and PCs, permitting a more impersonal approach to the problems faced by the characters.

Used properly, compressing time can make the players feel rushed or excited, while expanding time can build tension.

The Mechanical layer is anathema to mood and tone; by definition, it is completely impersonal. It follows that once a mood is created, some other combat mode is required to permit battle while sustaining that mood.

There have been past occasions where, in the course of a single encounter, I have employed all five layers of abstraction, zooming back and forth from one to another in order to build and release tension, expand on a complex situation and a fateful decision, or focus on a piece of gritty minutia.

There is a natural flow to how we as GMs move from one layer of abstraction to another in a game, something that each GM learns both from observing others as a player and from experience and experimentation. The timing dynamics of motion pictures, and novels, and TV episodes, are both similar and not completely analogous. We operate as much by instinct as by artistic design or highbrow theory.

Recognizing when it is natural to move from one layer to another, and then deliberately moving (even if only briefly) to a different layer again can have a profound impact on the game because it violates player expectations. If the object of the encounter at that moment is emotional, the emotions can be heightened; if intellectual, the time required for deduction and reasoning can be provided (you can even have a question-and-answer session between GM and player); if philosophical, you can induce a feeling of involvement, or an Olympian perspective, shifting player awareness completely away from the mundane battle to the wider implications of events.

The more often a GM makes a deliberate choice about the level of abstraction for a particular scene or sub-scene or encounter – or even a line of dialogue or exposition from on high – the better their game will be (assuming they get their choices right). Like the Wizard Of Oz, you have to work your magic from behind the curtain, where awareness of what you are doing will not distract from the effect of it. Afterwards, few of the players will be able to put their fingers on just why that game session seemed more vibrant, more exciting, and/or more real than others; they will simply know the GM was in fine form that day.

And isn’t that what we’re striving for?

This month’s RPG blog carnival is about cartography and mapping. So, I thought I’d talk about D&D tiles, of which I have several sets, and I like them a lot.

If you own more than a couple sets of D&D tiles you understand the challenge in organizing them. The tiles are double-sided, so you want to see both faces when sorting through your sets. You also have a lot of tiles to choose from, so you need a way to sort through them all without taking forever picking through the pieces. And many tiles have specific functions, such as doors and stairs, and you need to keep those handy to flesh out your floorplans.

Here are a few ways to keep your dungeon tiles organized. No one solution is perfect for the reasons stated above, but hopefully you find a method that works most of the time for you.

1. Put them in binders

Get plastic sleeves used to hold paper, CDs, cards, and coins. Put them into a large binder, and then slot your tiles into the sleeves. This lets you sort your tiles however you want.

The key benefit to this method is you can see both sides of your tiles this way. You can flip through your binder, pick out desired tiles, and you are done.

2. Photograph your dungeon tiles layout

From Dave Chalker

I love WotC’s Dungeon Tiles. However, I kept running into the problem of how to lay out the tiles when making a dungeon during my planning. The online generator they provide is nice, but I prefer to actually play with the real tiles and rearrange them to taste.

Plus, I wanted to have a way to place the monsters and traps in each room in the diagram. For awhile, I was setting up the dungeon, copying it all down in a notebook, then packing it back up.

Finally, I hit upon inspiration. I laid out the tiles where I wanted them, placed the minis for the monsters in the room they’d be on, and arranged any other features I wanted. Then, I took a digital picture of the whole thing.

I loaded the picture back onto my computer, and printed it out sized to a regular sheet of paper. Voila. I had my dungeon.

Then, I placed all the tiles and monsters in a box, so I knew I’d have everything I needed right there, and wouldn’t be fishing them out during play from among extraneous minis and tiles.

I also scribbled notes in each room for features that would be less obvious, like what was a secret door, where there was hidden treasure, which way the doors swing out, and so on. I’m definitely going to use this method for every dungeon I design from now on.

My example is here.

3. Pymapper software

Pymapper is a dungeon tile mapping program available for Windows, Mac, and Linux.

Features of the software include:

• Drag and drop tiles inside the software to arrange your maps
• Print maps to scale for use with minis, or resize to a single page
• Create your own custom tilesets
• View both sides of a tile at the same time for easier selection
• Overlay a grid that you can turn on or off
• Use layers you can turn on or off to help organize tiers of tiles
• Save maps as jpg or png
• Generate random dungeons
• Add in your own background images
• Add text labels and simple notes to maps
• Add longer notes and descriptions through linked icon and a rich text editor

There are tilesets available for download so you can mirror your tile collection in the software for layouts and tile selection. Just make your maps fast in Pymapper, and then duplicate the layout at the game table following your recipe.

4. Organize tiles by type

When reaching for a tile while designing a dungeon or laying one out ad hoc during a game, you most often need functionality most.

For example, you need a room, corridor, door, or special effect tile.

While you can keep tiles organized by set or colour, it probably helps you most to sort your tiles by function.

So, put all your door tiles in one container, then put your corridors in another, and your special tiles in a third. Have a stack for your big rooms, and so on.

5. Use baggies

Lots of tile owners put their tiles into Ziplock or other plastic bags. You can see both sides of the tiles this way.

In addition, you can group tiles however you want:

• Keep your sets together
• Put specific layouts in bags ready for game time
• Group tiles by function – doors, corridors, and so on
• Keep layouts together for repeat locations

6. Drawer units and storage systems

Go to a department store’s storage section to find lots of container configurations for tile organization.

• You can get stacked drawer units, with or without wheels.
• You can get craft and toolboxes, with or without configurable row and slot sizes.

Again, group tiles how you want, and then just file them in your storage bin of choice.

7. Put them in their original frames

Keep the die-cut frames that tiles come in. Replace tiles into the frames after you have finished using them.

This method not only keeps sets together for easier dungeon theming, but it helps you find specific tiles mentioned in products that use tiles for their maps. It is a pain trying to locate specific tiles after you’ve mixed them up with other sets.

8. Lay tiles on cardboard

This method only lets you see one side of a tile, but if you use a system like Pymapper software or photos, then it becomes easy to find tiles as you need them.

Cut cardboard sheets to size, get a non-skid material like shelf lining, and lay out your tiles as you like on both. The non-skid surface is key, and you should be able to get the shelf lining for cheap at dollar stores.

You can store tile sets intact this way, or create dungeon designs that you can easily pull out during games.

The cardboard stacks well and efficiently.

Do you use tiles? If so, you will find my dungeon tiles tips over a Roleplaying Tips useful as well: Dungeon Tile Mastery: 9 Ways To Get The Most Out Of Your Tile Collection.

If you don’t use tiles, check out a few sets I recommend at Amazon.

The thing that I hate most about being a regular blog writer is that your best ideas come to you when you have absolutely no chance to write them down and no hope of remembering them. In my head yesterday – the only medium available to me – I wrote no less than three absolutely brilliant and insightful articles for Campaign Mastery.

Of course, I could remember none of them by the time I actually got to my computer, or even when I reached a point where I could pause to take notes the old-fashioned way, so you’ll have to take my word for it. I can’t even remember what the sodding articles were about!

Of course, my memory has been failing progressively for some time. The wonder isn’t that I forget some things, it’s that I remember as much as I do. I’m always aware of the big picture (both in my campaigns and in real life), as Johnn has commented on more than one occasion when we’ve been planning together. I always remember the scenario that I’m running at the time, even if I don’t remember exactly what happened in the last session. I remember what the characters personalities are, both PCs and NPCs, and (in general) what they can do, even if the specifics escape me from time to time. So by no means is all hope lost for me.

All this exposition is actually quite relevant to today’s article, the subject of which – wonder of wonders – I had not forgotten. It was actually inspired by an item in Roleplaying Tips #517, which hit my inbox this week. The article in question is “For Awesome Campaigns Build A Player Campaign Book” by Kit Reshawn.

Initial Confusion

I have to admit that when I first read this article, I found it confusing until I was about 2/3 of the way through it. Only then did I realise that even though this was an article about a binder for Player information, it was maintained by the GM of the campaign. Suddenly, all the things that had not made sense before fell into place.

Whenever you come across a problem that has a familiar ring to it, and someone else’s solution to that problem, it’s only natural to spend a few minutes reviewing how you solve the same problem. Is your solution better? is it worse? Are those questions over-simplistic? On the basis that what works for one GM can work for another, that is the subject of this particular article.

The Player Binder, as described, has developed to solve multiple problems (all thematically related), so let’s look at each, and the solutions I employ…

Stephen’s Scrawls

What happened last session? What happened in the session before that? Sometimes I remember, sometimes not. In most of my games, a player by the name of Stephen Tunnicliff keeps a log of the events that affect his character which is often useful as a jog to the old memory. While this often excludes details that apply to other characters, it’s a starting point. Of perhaps equal value is the organisation: he writes his notes on the right-hand page of a lecture-style book and places tags next to important things on the right-hand-side of the left-hand page. This includes things like:

• NPC: for the names of characters encountered and summaries of their descriptions etc.
• Item: used for notes concerning any items that come to his attention – magic in fantasy, high-tech in sci-fi, and so on. With one book for each campaign, context makes the meaning of the term clear most of the time.
• asterisk: denotes information of critical significance.
• Place: Names and general descriptions of locations that are significant.
• [Player-name’s] PC: used as a reminder of the names of important PCs and which player controls them.

There may be others – for example, I’d use a $ sign for loot received.

What makes this especially useful is that Stephen has a particularly scrappy handwriting style that is very fast but sometimes difficult to read, meaning that he uses a lot of space per plot development. (Sometimes he himself can’t read it – and sometimes I can read it and he can’t!) A given page might have no tags, but would rarely have more than 2. This means that there is a lot of space on the left-hand page for clarifying notes, revelations, suspicions, and so on. In effect, the spacial relationship of items on the page becomes another tool for the organisation of information.

He also records XP on the left-hand page.

It’s important to note that what Stephen records is his understanding of events, which may or may not be correct. By using his notes as the unofficial “log” of campaign lore at the start of each session, he not only reminds himself and myself of what has just happened, he gives me the opportunity to clarify things that he AS A PLAYER may have misunderstood – and by extension, what the other players may also have wrong.

The real value of these notes comes after the campaign has had an extended break for some reason. I’ve written in the past about my gaming timetable – most campaigns get played just once a month; and it only takes a minor disruption – ill-health or family commitments or real life – for that to balloon out to a two or three or even four-plus month interval between sessions.

The Campaign Binder of Doom

This is my GMs equivalent of Stephen’s stack of Campaign Books. I use loose-leaf binders and plastic pockets. These contain maps, handouts, reference printouts, house rules, campaign plans – anything and everything that I might need to run the campaign outside of a rulebook set. When the binder gets too big, I archive everything that is no longer immediately relevant. I rarely write anything during the day’s play to go into the folder, and frequently print half-size, so its information density is extremely high.

Notepad

This is used as a scratch-pad to record factoids that are relevant only to the immediate play, at least that’s the theory. In practice, I may produce rough-drawn maps, sketches, tactical displays, jot down ideas for future scenarios or rules changes… but its all intended to be short-lived. If there is any chance at all that I might need it next time, it tends to get extracted and filed in the Campaign Binder.

Art Book

I use this for the occasional map, but most of the time it permits me to draw illustrations to clarify what the PCs are seeing. I often won’t take it unless I know that it will be needed; and I have several in different sizes for when that becomes important. I still remember one session in which I doodled a sketch while GMing the whole day until the end of the day approached, at which point I held up the sketch – A3 in size – and announced “This is what you see” to the table. They had seen this taking shape all afternoon with no idea of the significance (if any)!

USB Memory Stick

I don’t have a laptop (yet), but some of my players do, and sometimes I will take advantage of that to display clip art to the players as an illustration of the scenario (something I’ll write about in more detail some other time). Nothing goes onto this drive that is not for either eventual or immediate consumption by the players.

Sometimes it’s just eye candy to set the mood, sometimes it’s illustrative or specific. Often I will have manipulated the image in some way using my art software – transplanting a figure from one environment to another, for example. Sometimes it might be a diagram. It’s whatever I need to correctly orient the players.

On the day that I get a laptop, the memory stick will become a transportation medium and the laptop will replace everything except Stephen’s notes – and, since I type almost half as fast as I can speak, even they may also vanish (or at least, my reliance on them). And maybe the Sketch Books.

In Total

When you put all these together, you have my equivalent to the Player Binder. Because it’s a more modular approach, I can leave behind anything that I’m not going to need, or add in extras. The only way in which this is inferior to the Player Binder described by Kit Reshawn is that I have to remember where something is located. Which brings me back to the door I came in by…

Oh, and PS: I have since remembered what two of the three forgotten articles were. As they say, all things come to those who wait!

We resume the city design series this week with thoughts about how to use magic and psionics to build interesting city government power bases.

For the purposes of this article, magic and psionics are treated the same. Your game system might make this thinking incompatible, but hopefully you can take the thinking that follows and apply it to match your circumstances.

Magic and Psionics

Spells, spell-like abilities, and magic items open up unlimited potential for governments and officials to do business. The variety of effects, range of powers, and resources of a government make magic an appealing power base.

Consider the politician with charm capability, or the city government who can afford to keep a dozen 18th level wizards on its payroll.

Strengths

Governments can wield magic to do a crazy amount of things. With deep pockets, a city could hoard relics for emergency use, employ clerics to feed and heal its populace, keep a unit of wizardly architects on call for infrastructure work, tame monsters for heavy labor, and more.

In many cases, the benefits of magic use exceed the cost of components or acquisition, making magic a cheaper and faster alternative to labor or personal action on behalf of staff and officials.

In other cases, magic makes possible what mundane governments could not hope to achieve.

Some magic can be made permanent, which offers powerful and beneficial effects to cities, governments, and politicians.

For spell casters, magic is a personal power base. Reliance upon components can make some magic costly or inconvenient, but overall it’s a great way to influence others and win political conflicts.

Magic items create a scalable power base, providing those with Use Magic Device access to powers they don’t personally have.

Weaknesses

Most spells eventually end and various magic items run out of charges, doses, and slots. Thus, most magic is a temporary boon and wise governments and officials must think a few steps ahead at all times.

They must ask and answer the question: what happens when the magic runs out or fails?

Magic rarely takes ownership as well, so enemies can turn or use magic against governments with the same ease governments can wield magic against its foes.

For those who do not study magic, its effects are a mystery and its control ephemeral, which makes magic riskier than better-understood power bases, such as loyalty and wealth.

What is the citizenship’s view of magic? Religion, cultural, and personal views can make magic-wielding politicians unpopular, heretics, or targets.

Magic is often an unsure thing. Saving throws, variable durations, variable damage, and other uncertainties make it a risky power base.

Flavor

For government-specific flavor, consider going through all the spells, psionic powers, monster spell-like abilities, and magic items in the books you’re using for your campaign and keep an eye out for useful effects an administration or official might use.

Use these categories to help frame your ideas:

• Influence (individuals and groups)
• Propaganda (illusion, communication, public image, thought influence and control)
• Administration (communication, travel, interfacing with the public, paperwork, delegation, supplies, buildings)
• Leadership
• Conflict and disputes (adjudicating, truth and fact investigation, resolution determination, resolution enforcement)
• Wealth management (collecting taxes and other revenues, protecting wealth, managing wealth, issuing payments, managing expenses)
• Power base enhancement (establishing, supporting, defending, expanding power bases)

Also consider how government magic might be portrayed and identified as such.

• Do government wizards and clerics dress or behave differently?
• Where do they live and congregate?
• How does the government protect and defend its magic sources?
• How does it counter foes’ magic?

How does the government’s stance on magic compare to the attitude and beliefs of the peoples it governs? It would be interesting to create a conflict where one side advocates it strongly and the other side vehemently opposes it.

This conflict can occur between the government between any of the city’s potential stake holders:

• Citizens
• Guilds
• Foreign powers
• Gods
• Neighbors
• Government divisions
• Religions
• Mages, sorcerers, clerics
• Social classes (nobility, merchants, peasants)

In addition, you can create compelling conflicts by picking points along the spectrum that exists between the two extremes of all-magic and no-magic.

For example, the guilds might forbid any mind- or people-influencing magic to protect itself and its members from backlash, but support the use of magic by craftsmen to churn out better products and services. However, the populace might prefer goods and services without any kind of magical taint.

In another example, the mage’s council might require certification for spell-use above second level while the Mayor lobbies for no public magic use, regardless of spell level.

Final thoughts

This topic, more than any other, offers you a chance to make your settings unique.

It is always a shame when a magic setting would be rendered indifferent if you stripped the magic out of it.

If your game offers magic or psionics, take advantage of them as tools to craft a unique environment.

For city design, you can use magic to build wonderfully divergent cultures from just a few GM decisions, as described above.

How have you used magic or psionics to build interesting urban environments or plots? Drop me a comment below.

Johnn’s recent mention of the Ostrich-GM approach he sometimes takes to the question of how Administrators and Nobles get their character levels (comments, City Government Power Bases – Class and Level) struck a chord. There are really only two answers besides the close-you-eyes-and-hope-it-goes-away approach, and adopting one of them has some interesting implications for the rest of the game. NB: While this post is going to relate primarily to D&D and similar fantasy games, it should be applicable more generally. YMMV when it comes to any specific game system, though.

What do you get experience for?

Experience for NPCs derives from the same sources as for PCs. Essentially, this boils down to three distinct types of experience-earning event: Plot-based experience, Encounter-derived experience, and Metagame-derived experience.

This article will examine both, with a view to both expanding on aspects of Johnn’s post (and his entire series of articles), and to studying the lessons that this perspective provides on rewards in general.

Plot-based experience

Most GMs hand out experience for achieving significant steps forward in the plotline, i.e. for achieving a goal set either by the GM or by the players themselves. The size of the reward typically relates to the immediacy of the goal at the time it was set – small rewards (or no rewards) for short-term goals, moderate rewards for medium-term goals, and substantial rewards for achieving long-term goals and ambitions.

This category of experience excludes anything deriving from experience-earning encounters, but does encompass rewards for roleplaying, for clever skill use, and so on.

These are usually considered rewards for achievement, and that can be a problem, because it fosters a competitive atmosphere between the players and GM, not a collaborative one. Some GMs completely eschew experience rewards for plot-related outcomes for this reason.

XP for decisions and actions, not outcomes

I prefer to think of this class of XP as an award for decisions and actions, not for outcomes, which eliminates the quandary. Does a decision result in the plot advancing, or becoming more interesting or connecting to one or more players more strongly? That is something that should be encouraged, and hence a reward is entirely appropriate.

This has some interesting implications. Rather than rewarding success in achieving a plot point, you are rewarding engagement and participation. A player may in fact make it harder for the group to achieve a plot resolution and earn a reward by looking not at the most expedient path but at the bigger picture and long-term consequences, and persuading the other players to take a more difficult path to resolving the immediate challenge.

Challenge Level: The Trap Analogy

A perpetual question that vexes GMs who hand out experience for this type of behaviour is how much to award. Frequently, the scale is an arbitrary guesstimate. Few of them seem to realise that there is an existing mechanism and precedent for them to follow: Experience for bypassing or neutralising traps is awarded by determining a challenge rating for the trap on the scale employed for combat encounters.

If GMs simply assess each challenge, at the time it is posed, on the same 1-20+ scale used for Encounter Levels, he can immediately identify how much XP the challenge should be worth. As events unfold, subtracting the XP earned from encounters etc along the way leaves a balance to be awarded at the completion of the challenge.

This simple mechanism – with a slight tweak that I will get to in a moment – gives a consistent foundation to the award scale.

Enhancing the concept

I would even suggest going further; measuring time by estimated character levels earned before the challenge is resolved gives a natural fit to the existing scale. For example, in one of my campaigns, a character wants to change his current status (wanted fugitive, known throughout the Land, huge reward for capture) to Nobleman in good standing, with his own estates, because he has identified a political power-base as essential to his longer-term ambitions. My estimate was that this would require a minimum of 15 levels – 5 levels earned while obtaining the tools for creating a seamless new identity, and 10 levels earned while working through political games to achieve the social ranking that he desires. The challenge is therefore a level-15 challenge, and earns rewards as an encounter of EL15.

This approach carries a couple of additional benefits. If the character takes longer to achieve the goals, his character level at the time the award is bestowed means that he automatically gets a smaller reward. If the character discovers a shortcut and gets there more quickly, then he earns a greater reward – which is automatically capped, according to the rules.

In roleplay terms, it encourages the players to set concrete goals, rather than nebulous ambitions – the difference between “triggering a war between X and Y” and “encouraging war”. This gives the GM plot-development material for the campaign and a tool to automatically get a character’s attention with an NPC – simply by having them come from, or represent, X or Y.

A further benefit is that it affords a sense of scale in terms of the combat-oriented encounters that might have to be overcome along the way, simply by adding the character’s level to the Challenge Level set by the GM. If the characters are 9th level at the time they establish a level-6 goal, anything less than or equal to CR15 is balanced. With CR15 as the level of the ultimate roadblock, it is clear that lesser challenges along the way will also have lesser level.

Tweaking the concept

Which brings me to that minor tweak that I mentioned earlier. Because the GM has established a scale based on the difficulty of achieving the goal and the character’s levels at the time, he can adjust the difficulty with changing circumstances in the campaign OR choose to have it become progressively easier to achieve (but worth a smaller reward) or anything in between.

Take the example of achieving political power that I mentioned earlier. So far, the characters have earned about 9 levels while striving to reach the 5-level checkpoint – the ability to establish a bulletproof false identity – and aren’t quite there yet (another 2 levels worth to go, so they are currently at the 3rd-level stage of the challenge). That gives me the choice of either keeping the overall challenge at level 15 (in which case the political phase of the game will be cut short) or of increasing the overall challenge level to be commensurate with the current power levels of the characters. The difference between where the characters are and where they were expected to be when completing the current stage of the goal gives an always-accurate scale to the modifier required. (9+2 to go = 11; 5-2 to go = 3; and 11-3=8, so I can add up to 8 levels to the difficulty of the encounters and the challenges to be overcome in order to achieve the goal).

This is the only mechanism I have ever seen for resolving hard numbers for such an increase.

Reward-matching vs Reward Differentials

Another area to be taken into account is the question of Reward-matching vs Reward differentials, or more accurately, reward differences. Some versions of the D&D game system match xp with the gp value of other rewards, some view the rewards as a global value to be divided into various pools and sources. The latter approach means that the value of any treasure or other reward is subtracted from the total awarded, leaving the xp component of the total.

The difficulty of this approach has always been translating non-economic awards into hard valuations. Once again, however, this equivalence principle can now come to the rescue – assessing a non-financial reward on a 1-to-20+ scale means that an immediate xp equivalent can be determined. That makes the Reward Differential view practical.

For various philosophic reasons, I subscribe to the reward differential approach, as I mentioned in one of my more controversial posts here at Campaign Mastery, “A Different Experience: A Variation on the D&D 3.x Experience Points System” – I’m going to avoid getting side-tracked into why, and save that for a post some other time. But it has always bothered me that there was no way to incorporate all the other types of rewards a character could receive. Finally, this approach has yielded a solution to the problem.

What this means for Administrators and Rulers

Okay, so now we get down to the nitty-gritty. We’ve established that there is a type of XP that gets awarded in some games for decisions and actions that propel the plot forward or that otherwise engage the campaign or achieve an ambition, and assembled a game mechanics system for determining how much those rewards should be.

Administrators and Rulers set goals and ambitions all the time, and actively work to achieve them. That translates immediately into a source of experience for such characters.

Past actions and decisions by NPCs can either be “stuff that just happened to fill in the time/background” or they can be intended to justify or propel the plot forward, arriving at a signpost point (by happenstance) just as the PCs reach a position to be affected by the goal that the NPC was fulfilling at the time. That means that there is a second source of XP for such characters that boosts their awards SOME of the time – and the more that an NPC matters to the plot, the greater the additional awards that the character has received as a result of reaching the point of mattering to the plot.

What has been created here is an interpretation of the XP game mechanics that permits an administrator or ruler to gain experience for doing what they are supposed to be doing. In other words, Assessing an NPC’s past history by means of the Challenge Level system gives a concrete total of XP earned by the character in the course of that history.

Equally, this permits the fabrication of a background to match a desired experience point total.

What has previously been a matter of abstract guesswork has been replaced with a systematic and quantified approach. While not all of the guesswork has been removed from the equation – a GM still has to estimate what Challenge Level is appropriate for various goals and achievements – the questions that are now being asked are finite and specific and not general.

What this means for Adventurers

There are ramifications at all levels of interaction between PCs and NPCs. An NPC whose actions show that he is more capable than his history dictates can be assumed to have hidden elements to that history. An NPC whose abilities appear to be less than those that his history would make available may be someone else’s stooge, or may be taking credit that does not belong to him.

Administrators can possess hit dice, feats, class abilities, wealth, and magical enhancements aimed at furthering their goals, making them a match for the PCs. They are no longer pushovers.

Just as significantly, this system establishes a new class of activity for an Adventurer to pursue – an astute political manoeuvre can earn a PC as much experience as a hard-fought battle that achieves the same ends. This enables new types of adventures, new types of encounters, and new types of campaigns.

What this means for other characters

In fact, any activity practiced by NPCs can be classified according to goals and decisions. From:

• an Artist choosing how best to depict a battle scene;
• a farmer deciding how best to manage his planting and harvesting;
• a bookmaker choosing what odds are best for minimising his risk in any given sporting event;
• through to the blacksmith choosing what to craft next and the approach he will employ.

The scale of the goal determines what XP it is worth, and the XP accumulated in the course of a character’s history advances the character in level and increases their abilities, enabling them to become more skilled and more capable of setting larger goals.

Expertise correlates directly to past experience.

Game Impact

This system has a profound impact on the game. Effectively, every NPC has class levels. That’s a major alteration over the old-school assumption that most people did not. Adventurers become less defined in as a group by what they CAN do and more defined by what they CHOOSE to do.

The system encourages a number of positive roleplaying aspects – firstly, on the part of the PCs, but more generally on the part of the GM. Every character has a goal, every character has a history, and both of those are appropriate to the character. Those histories and goals will affect how NPCs relate to, and interact with, PCs.

NPCs become rather more capable than they are frequently depicted. If you have class levels, then – in a pinch – you can do as an Adventurer does, and are not completely a helpless victim.

Social hierarchies also develop naturally. Farmers tend to focus on short-term goals – seasonal, annual – and thus earn small amounts of XP. As a result, they are generally low-level characters under this system. Rulers and Administrators make bigger decisions, have more substantial goals, and thus earn more XP, giving them more levels. The abilities that they achieve are going to focus more on their own goals and ambitions than on the sort of mayhem that Adventurers are designed to cope with. So the PCs remain special to the campaign.

Ultimately, the game world becomes more challenging, and more consistent. Opportunities for plot development are opened that weren’t there before. It’s all good stuff. But it comes at a price.

That price is for the game to demand more insistently that a GM does his game prep.

There are shortcuts, of course, in fact the same shortcuts that GMs use all the time; when an NPC is needed, one can be created on the spot and the characters background and history assumed to exist. The GM need only create those elements that are necessary to the plot function of the NPC. Some experience may be needed to correctly assess what character level the NPC will have, but even that can be achieved by choosing an analogue from the Monster Manual which would be an appropriate level if reskinned; the creature’s CR then becomes the basis for an estimate of character level.

And, of course, giving an NPC one or more goals is always best practice, whether the GM is employing this system or not.

Encounter Experience

The second major source of experience for Adventurers is experience earned in encounters. Unlike the experience sources given above, these rewards result from the overcoming of an obstacle, whether that obstacle is a Trap, a magical effect, or a hostile creature. This is XP for outcomes, not decisions and actions.

It is important to note that this is the province of the existing XP game mechanics of D&D and related games; as such there is a lot less that needs to be said regarding it.

Type Of Outcome

The DMG makes it clear that the nature of the outcome is not important, only the achievement of it. It does not matter whether or not the opponent was defeated in battle (or the trap escaped, by extension), or was persuaded to stand aside. Only the relative difficulty (party level vs encounter level, degree of success (half XP if the enemy escapes), and difficulty (measured in terms of expenditure of resources) are significant in determining how much XP to award.

That’s actually very telling, because it means that overcoming any obstacle to the achievement of a goal earns the reward.

What this means for Administrators and Rulers

Rulers and Administrators come up against obstacles all the time. Just as PCs should earn XP for roleplaying and other Plot-based activities, so NPCs should earn XP for overcoming their obstacles, determined using exactly the same criteria.

When one noble manoeuvres another out of their way through politicking, the rival has been neutralised in terms of obstructing the goal. The character level of that rival should then be used as the basis for the experience earned exactly as though the character had been defeated in battle. If the rival escapes with influence and power intact, then it is as though he had escaped the conflict, yielding and fleeing to preserve their life. If the noble was forced to expend significant resources to achieve this result, he gets more XP; if significantly less resources were expended than might have been expected, he gets less.

Implications

There is a subsystem within the game mechanics enabling a net EL to be determined when faced with a combination of foes. I use a variant means of doing so – refer to the XP-related article I linked to earlier – but the principle remains the same.

This same system can be used to assess the balance between allies and enemies, between factions and challenges. If a Ruler is 8th level, he had better not be facing more than two challenges of 6th level or greater or he will be overmatched, unequal to the task of achieving his goals – at least not directly. To ensure success, he will either have to isolate the two from each other, or obtain an ally of his own, or persuade one of the two to ally with him. The other can then be securely crushed/overcome.

These need not be rival rulers that we’re talking about. They could be minor social problems, or a thieves’ guild that’s gotten out of hand, or a river that has been poisoned, or any of a hundred other challenges that the Ruler might face. Where two problems connect with each other, they are allied – for example the thieves’ guild with a corrupt police force. Either the problems are separated somehow, or the ruler will have to throw everything he has into overcoming the combination – leaving other problems aside for a while.

Battlefield strategic analysis, under this paradigm, leads to the appropriate political or social strategy. Once the goals have been defined, tactics can be constructed to achieve them.

What this means for Adventurers

Ultimately, it means very little, at least in direct terms. This is what they are already receiving, and that’s the end of it.

Indirectly, however, it can matter a lot, because it means that NPCs earn XP at roughly the same rate that PCs do, just for doing what the NPC is supposed to be doing – practicing their craft, administering their group, Ruling their domain. Their character level will reflect the challenges that they have had to overcome to achieve their current positions. They will not be pushovers or wimps, and will expect to be treated with an appropriate level of respect – and are just as capable of punishing those who do not offer it as any PC would be.

Metagame-derived Experience

Some GMs award extra experience for player activities that support the game – whether that be doing research for the GM, taking notes on behalf of the party during the game, providing miniatures and battlemaps, or whatever. This is an approach that I have advocated in the past, though it should be a small component of the overall experience tally. It is assumed that the benefits to the enjoyment of the game are enough of a reward, but some small encouragement is occasionally necessary.

This is the one source of XP for which there is no equivalent for the NPCs, the one edge that PCs have over the field. Certainly, the GM could reward the NPCs for the tasks that he undertakes in furtherance of his game, but this should never be an option the GM takes up. These are things that the GM should do anyway, and penalizing the PCs in comparison for doing so should not be an acceptable choice. What’s more, there are so Many things that the GM should do that if XP were awarded the NPCs for performing them, it would be quite unbalancing.

The Logical Conclusion

This article has been all about taking one simple assumption – that NPCs are to be treated by the XP system in the same way as PCs – and carrying it through to its logical conclusions. Generalising the meaning behind the existing principles and then identifying the analogous situations for non-adventuring NPCs provides objective frameworks for the awarding of experience to NPCs for activities that:

• make them better characters to play;
• make them more interesting characters to interact with;
• make them worthy objects of respect by the PCs;
• open up new gaming opportunities; and,
• enrich your campaign.

You can’t ask for much more than that.

In part one, you saw how spell details can inspire encounters. In part two today, we continue to walk through the plight of poor Halcos and who the PCs’ enemies plot to prevent them from casting Speak With dead. We also offer tips on how spells can help you design game worlds and regions.

We have covered the first of a series of steps I run through when mining spells for game play: determine limitations. Let’s pick up with step 2.

2. Guess PC actions

We have gone through the spell rules to determine what options the game world (aka reality) presents the PCs and NPCs. Lots of interesting ideas and tactical options there.

Next, I try to guess what the PCs will do. I split this into two parts:

1. What will the players do?
2. What will the players have their characters do?

Question #1 lies at the meta-game level. As a fair GM, NPCs only ever act on information they have at hand with the abilities and resources at their disposal. For example, a stupid NPC will not make chess-like moves against the PCs. An aggressive NPC will not take a subtle approach unless properly counseled.

In this case, the NPC leader, a Crime Lord in Riddleport, is smarter than me and has many wise voices whispering in his ear (wise in the ways of magic and war). To make up for my lack, I use meta-gaming to game NPCs smarter than me.

First thing the enemy does is cast divination spells to determine the best or most likely course of action. In-game, I rule that it lets me make decisions about NPC decisions after knowing what actions the PCs take.

Because I am a geek GM, I like to play such scenes out in my head while driving or killing time elsewhere. I will make dice rolls, if needed, when I get the chance. And, I make notes about the results so I do not forget.

I know I could give NPCs the best in all things (stats, equipment, resources, knowledge, decisions) but I like to simulate things out. Mega-NPCs are boring to GM, are uninteresting, and frustrate players.

However, to roleplay and game genius NPCs and NPCs with more resources than I have, I meta-game to simulate their abilities.

My players prefer direct action over subtlety. During debates, chances are good at least one player will make his character jump into action, deciding the situation through impulse. (It is always tough getting consensus, or being subtle-by-committee, so this is no mark again my players, it’s just the current group dynamic).

In this case then, knowing my players, they will most likely take Halcos to the Temple of Dreams for a casting. They will go as a group, and put Halcos in a sack or just over a shoulder to carry his body around. They might do this at night. They will suspect an ambush, but because each day is filled with so much activity, they will hold off on spells and temporary buffs, holding out for an emergency.

3. Turn limitations into tactics

Step three, we have already done. When doing this by myself, I read the spell, skill or game rules for whatever is in play, then think about my players and their PCs, then start writing down ideas for tactics.

However, in this blog post, I went over the tactics in step one when exploding out the spell details to share my thought processes.

The most likely enemy tactics will be:

• Cast divination magic for counsel
• Spy on the PCs
• Ambush the PCs en route to the Temple of Dreams
• Find out where Halcos’ body lies
• Cast Animate Dead, Speak With Dead or any other spell that mitigates Halcos talking to the PCs
• Destroy Halcos’ body
• Buy off or coerce the Temple of Dreams to prevent their services to the PCs
• Find leverage to arrange an exchange – Halcos for a hostage, key information, or large sum of money

Just thought of another tactic: disguise a priest as a Temple of Dreams cleric and have him go drinking at the PCs’ home base – the Silver Chalice Inn. The PCs spot him, think how lucky they are, and take the priest to Halcos. The priest then casts Animate Dead.

The enemy priest would need to disguise his alignment and have an escape plan.

An Amulet of Proof against Detection and Location would offer some protection against Detect Evil spells and abilities.

Better yet, an Undetectable Alignment spell offers more robust coverage.

Escape is trickier, as Halcos is likely stored somewhere in the Silver Chalice (he’s actually in the cold room in the cellar, but the enemy does not know this), a clear escape route is possible (jump out a window or run out a door) but not if the cleric gets cornered.

So, I need a diversion. A henchman will also be drinking at the Chalice. When the priest is picked up by the PCs and taken to Halcos, the henchman will give the signal through the tavern room window to ambushers hiding invisibly across the street. On the signal, they wait 30 seconds and charge in.

The cleric knows he has roughly a 30 count to stall and cast his Animate Dead spell. When Halcos awakes as a zombie, the priest will tell the PCs it is Halcos’ spirit come to life to answer their questions. Hopefully, at that time, the diversion starts and the PCs rush downstairs.

I will also repurpose all these NPCs to form an ambush party in case the PCs go mobile.

4. Convert into details

Next, interpret these parameters to what NPCs and PCs would experience in game. What would people in the game world know about this stuff either from experience, stories or consulting experts?

World details

Back to the spell description – I like to imagine how it becomes reality to the game world inhabitants. To commoners, for example, they would likely not distinguish or even be aware of such magics as Speak With Dead…. Unless it was a service offered by temples:

• “Speak with your loved ones for guidance and peace of mind.”
• Estates and wills: get it right from the source who gets what
• Criminal investigations, especially murder
• Service to ancestors – the dead who cannot find each other in the afterlife could get on a conference call through temple priests

These services and more could either be a valuable and good service to society, or a cash cow, depending on the ethos of the temples.

In Riddleport, the Crime Lords have power. I think they would say “dead is dead.” Which is code for, do not stick your nose where it don’t belong.

In other areas of Golarion, Speak With dead might be well known and valued, but in Riddleport, it is forbidden (except to Crime Lord, of course).

As Riddleport has a busy port, many foreigners would come and go. So, I would say Speak With Dead is uncommonly known, but spoken about in hushed tones else an informant might overhear and a Crime Lord gives them grief.

However, Riddleport being the kind of city it is, for every forbidden thing an underground economy exists. That means mid-level thugs would known about Speak With Dead as a service you could pay for if you keep your mouth shut and pay well. That knowledge would slowly seep into the streets.

The purpose of this step is to provide flavour, clues and options to your game by roleplaying the rules in your head as part of world building. It is too late for me to sew the seeds of Speak With Dead in my campaign, but you could start doing it now.

I am armed for future encounter seeds and flavour, though. The PCs can brush up against Speak With Dead now that it’s been embedded in my world a bit better.

Encounter details

Spell rules turned into details help flesh out and govern encounters. (They could also spawn campaigns and adventures, if used right.)

I play a game with rules. Pathfinder is tactical and rules-heavy. Therefore, I play within the rules. When I played D&D 1E and 2E, I hand-waved a lot of stuff. When I play FUDGE or some other rules-light system, I did not use rules or this type of thinking.

For rules-heavy systems such as D&D 3+, Pathfinder, GURPS, and Rolemaster, however, rules are excellent seeds for encounters, which is really what this post is all about.

The spell parameters dictate PC and NPC options. You turn those options into plans and actions. Those actions become encounters if triggered.

Actions within encounters are further influenced by spell details. Casting time and range are huge factors in this particular case. The NPCs have to get close to Halcos. One option requires them to linger for 10 minutes. Another option requires them to be around for at least two rounds of combat.

For flavour, I also think about the casting process and how that looks, sounds and smells. Sometimes I can convert that to boxed-text or ad-libbed description, which makes gameplay fun and deep.

5. Determine the cost

I do not give NPCs free rides. They do not have unlimited resources. Neither do the PCs.

So, I take a minute to figure out how much various tactics and options might cost.

As a rule of thumb:

• Cheap = many uses
• Moderate = specialized uses
• Expensive = highly specialized uses

The greater the expense, the more important a situation must be for an NPC to expend the needed resources on it. In this case, the situation is important but not dire. If the PCs do get information out of Halcos, the enemy can try to eliminate the PCs. So, much budget is Moderate.

The enemy has spell casters on their team. No cost there. The spell components incur no extra cost. Flunkies are already getting paid, and no special talent is required. Turns out, this is a Cheap endeavour for the enemy.

The PCs will either pay for the casting or come to some kind of arrangement with the Temple of Dreams (my preference, because favour owed = future quests and encounter hooks). The cost is Moderate for them.

The end cost questions are, who can afford their intended actions, and at what cost do they come?

For this situation, PCs and their foes can continue along without any cost barriers. Further, the expenses involved are not enough to modify tactics or bring in new tactics.

Best case for a campaign like this is a tactic costs so much the PCs must take additional action. “This spell is more than we can afford, so let’s go out and get the extra money somehow.” Enter more plot hooks onto the stage!

6. Embed into your world

For any spell, ask these questions:

• What problems could it solve?
• What pleasures could it bring?
• How could it be used to gain power (social, resources, wealth, political, authority, physical)?
• How could it be put to evil use?
• How could it be put to good use? How could it be used to help the poor and weak?
• What side effects or consequences does the spell cause (economic, military, political, cultural)?

We already discussed world details, but I did this in passing while working at the campaign and encounter level.

It is always good to step back and look at the larger picture to help your world building. Spells offer a unique element in fantasy games to make worlds unique. Use implications of spells and magic to prevent your world suffering from Star Trek rubber mask syndrome.

Take any game world book and open its table of contents. Pick a spell. Run each item in the contents against your spell to see how your world or region could be shaped a bit differently.

Creatures are emotional, imperfect, irrational, and surprising. You have a lot of leeway with that fact to create interesting interpretations, reactions, and uses of any spell to spin off unique cultures and regions.

7. Bonus: generate encounter seeds

This whole post has been about how the enemy will react to the death of someone who has too much knowledge. All this thinking and planning will result in actions, which will result in at least one encounter.

Giving a spell the treatment we have given Speak With Dead should also give ideas for future plots and encounters. Make note of these in your ideas book for future reference and inspiration.

A quick trick is to take the PCs out of the picture and replace them with NPCs. What will happen if NPCs and their enemy get into the same bind? How could the PCs get caught up in all the machinations and ensuing events?

Another trick is to recycle your plans. What if this happens again? You’ll be able to react much faster, possibly taking NPC actions with all this thinking and planning already informing their plans.

And what if this happens again, but just between NPC factions? The PCs, having already been through a similar situation, will enjoy using their hard-won knowledge. They will roleplay and take actions with the glee of experience.

A third trick is to mess with scale. In this case, what if this is either a common occurrence or situation, or is becoming one? Who will step in to make a profit, difference, or power play?

Give it a try

This process seems at first glance long and complicated. However, that’s just because of my long rambling about it. After a few times, it becomes fast. Just run through the steps in your head:

1. Determine limitations
2. Guess PC actions
3. Turn limitations into tactics
4. Turn limitations into details
5. Determine the cost
6. Embed into your world
7. Bonus: generate encounter seeds

You can defer Steps #6 and #7 if you have little planning time available between sessions. The first five steps become fun and fast, especially as your rules knowledge grows, if you play a rules-heavy game.

I asked Mike for advice on helping me learn the Pathfinder rules. This technique with spells is another fine way to get on top of your game system.

How have spells changed your world?

What about you? Any memorable moments in games caused by spells?

Disclaimer: This article was prompted and inspired by my receipt of a free copy of Player’s Option: Flaws from 4 Winds Fantasy Gaming, but it is largely based on my experience with the Hero System. 4 Winds did not solicit this review and did not recieve notice of the content. /Disclaimer

So that we’re all on the same page, let’s start with a quick review of just what’s in Player’s Option: Flaws:

Player’s Option: Flaws: A brief review

Flaws is a smallish low-priced game supplement that gives characters the option to selectively mar their “perfection” in exchange for an extra feat or extra skill points. Each flaw is presented with descriptive fluff and game effects in a format similar to that used for feats. Flaws can eventually be removed using techniques that are customised for each flaw, without losing the benefits that accompanied the original purchase.

Things to like

There are a lot of things to like about Flaws. It helps individualise characters by enabling them to be more intensely focussed on one key area by virtue of a feat or skills they otherwise would not possess. It provides additional colour to a character by means of and additional source of variety. After all, when you reduce it to its simplest elements, a character can be defined by the combination of three things:

• What the character can do
• What the character can’t do, or can’t do well
• Personality – what the character could do, but won’t, and vice-versa, and why

Flaws establishes a new set of relationships between these, opening a new avenue for characterisation.

The requirements for removing, or treating, a flaw also open a new source of adventures for the characters, and no GM can ever have too many of those!

Mechanics

I’d give a solid “thumbs up” on the mechanics for simplicity. I’m not sure that 3 skill points are commensurate with a single feat – the rule of thumb that I’ve always used is that one feat = +4 in four thematically-related skills, +2 in two related skills, or +4 in a single skill, simply because that is what a feat can confer. But that’s a relatively minor quibble, and I have bigger fish to fry.

Content

The 49 flaws listed are well thought-out for the most part. There is not enough information on the game effects of some of them – in fact, of most of the ones that I looked through, however, and that’s my first serious criticism.

Take “Tin Ear” for example. So the character can’t hold a tune, and suffers penalties to perform checks as a result, but what other game effects does it have?

Does it force the character to make a listen check to be affected by Bardic Music? Does it impact other checks? Does it bar the character from learning to speak tonal languages? Does it impact the use of “bird whistles” as a means of surreptitious communications between characters? Does it make it harder for a character to recognise someone by voice alone?

None of these are unreasonable, and none of them are mentioned. Equally importantly, the penalty of the flaw is disproportionate to the benefit received unless one or more of these additional penalties is included.

Roleplay

There is also not enough information on how the flaw should affect a character’s roleplay. Game mechanics can always be interpreted by the player affected, but guidance should be included in the flaw description. What does a character with a “Tin Ear” (to continue the same example) actually hear? Is it like colour-blindness, where the character simply cannot distinguish one note from another? Is it a hearing problem or a problem with the character’s ability to generate sounds correctly? Is the character afflicted with Tinnitus, an occasional ringing, whistling, or humming in the ears resulting from exposure to sounds of excessive volume?

By no means should one answer fit all, but the lack of any answer at all is not helpful. A single paragraph outlining possible causes and roleplaying effects, and another listing other possible flaw consequences with the admonition to the GM to select a penalty that “fits” with a flaw subtype chosen by the player would make Flaws far more useful and far less work for both player and GM.

Flaw removal is flawed

The roleplay problems don’t end there. As indicated above, characters can undertake procedures or quests to rid themselves of the flaw, or at least manage their condition, once they reach third level, and cannot remove or relieve themselves of the flaw in any way other than the proscribed ‘treatment’. I like this idea, but the capacity for removing flaws doesn’t have enough roleplay requirements built in. Once again, what’s presented is virtually all game mechanics.

In particular, I missed GM advice on the subject of controlling access to the treatments. A section full of campaign implications would greatly enhance the value and ease of integration of Flaws. There are two primary types of content that such a section should contain:

• “Demand for the following services will increase if Flaws is an option in your campaign, and providers would gain power, prestige, and wealth as a result: [list of services with relevant flaws sub-listed];” and
• “If [X] is less readily available, the following flaws are more difficult to treat: [list]. The GM may need to make an alternative available.”

Other things missed

There are a few other things that I felt were missing from the product. A simple list of flaws; a classification system for the flaws containing the roleplaying advice described earlier; and a blank flaw template for GMs to use when adding their own creations, with some guidelines for such creations, could all be added.

The Verdict: Inspirational But Incomplete

Flaws is an inspirational product, there’s no question. But implementing it requires more work by the GM to implement than is readily apparent, and this is effort that could have been avoided or made easier with a bit more content from Four Winds.

Implementing all the suggestions herein might have doubled the content page-count (ignoring cover, OGL, etc), but I would have preferred paying an extra dollar to have it. Perhaps in a Flaws 2.0?

Flaw Classification

Here at Campaign Mastery, we like to go the extra mile in providing value for “money” – even when that “money” is just the reader’s investment in time and attention. So, having identified what’s missing from Flaws, I thought it worthwhile to attempt to remedy at least one of the shortcomings, and not simply to offer a review. (Note to 4 Winds: If you want to use this as the starting point for your own version of the content I found missing, contact us – we’re happy to be reasonable!) Think of this as me putting my money where my mouth is!

I thought the place to start was with a general Flaw Classification system, based on my Hero System expertise, and a paragraph or two on the roleplaying implications of each category. I’m not going to list individual Flaws in each, this is about a systemic framework. Added value derives from such a systematic approach because it can be suggestive of new flaws!

Mighty Within Limits

This category describes Flaws which weaken or limit the character’s existing or standard abilities. Since the advantages taken in compensation for the flaw would either enhance a different existing or standard ability, this category of flaw represents the beginnings of specialisation on the character’s part. It may permit a character to qualify for a prestige class more quickly or more readily than would otherwise be the case. The character’s personality should reflect a fascination for the area of specialisation and/or an avid dislike for, or fear of, the area being weakened. For example, if the flaw affects a combat capability, the character might be pacifistic by preference.

A Fish Out Of Water

Flaws which weaken the character when not in their element. This type of flaw reflects either a sheltered upbringing or a case of obsession, reducing the character’s ability in areas other than a specific type of situation. The character will probably be socially naive and may be idealistic. A major component of the character’s roleplay will focus on their learning to cope with “the real world”; the character may embrace it, flee from it, or attempt to reform it. His relationships to the other PCs will also be a focal point, as they will be the most frequent interface between the character and this “real world”.

Constraining Flaws

Flaws which constrain the character’s behavior, forbidding some solutions to the problems they must overcome. This type of flaw mandates that the GM present the character with situations in which the flaw becomes apparent. These can either reaffirm the restrictions faced by the character or make the character perceive it as a weakness to be overcome. The difference is so profound in terms of personality and characterisation that the GM should collaborate with the player in setting the direction of the campaign in this respect. With this type of flaw, the advantage that the character receives in compensation can be relatively inconsequential, or can synergise with the flaw to provide additional focus on the character’s abilities. The choice of advantage should be made with a view to emphasising dominant aspects of the character’s nature and personality, and should form a thread binding the characters’ future development to his basic concept and origins.

Steering Flaws

Flaws which mandate behaviour. These mandates can be narrow, giving the character very limited capacity for self-expression under very restricted circumstances, or can be broad, giving the character more latitude but with the steering restriction playing a more regular part in the character’s day-to-day life. A mandatory, daily, hour-long ritual which must be performed regardless of circumstances is broad, because it doesn’t restrict the character outside of that hour; a mandated directive to “Destroy all Demons at any cost” is narrow, because it doesn’t constrain the character outside of very specific circumstances but is absolute when it does kick in.

Steering flaws provide a unique opportunity to characterisation in that both flaw and the advantage that the character receives in compensation can synergise, the advantage becoming most prominent or effective when the behaviour is constrained; the combination describes a character who has been developed, like a living weapon, to complete a particular task or quest.

Vulnerabilities & Weaknesses

These are flaws which make the character more susceptible to specific types of effect. This is a very important category of flaw because the implication is that the flaw comes from the same source as the advantage that the character receives in compensation. That in turn suggests a philosophy that connects the two, that makes this vulnerability or weakness an acceptable price to pay. The nature of that philosophy should be developed by the player and GM in collaboration, and the truth or falsity of the philosophy then determined by the GM and revealed to the player (and character) in the course of play. In other words, these flaws can be Campaign-Defining if used correctly.

Dependencies & Needs

The final category of flaws contains flaws which require the character to have or do something regularly. This is a category that can be just the tip of an iceberg of profound relevance to a game world when utilised properly by an inspired GM, because ultimately it is all about questions. Does the character really have to do [X] or is that information erroneous? Where did the knowledge of the need come from? Is the requirement really associated with the ability that the character receives in metagame compensation, or is it a need stemming from somewhere else – or even a deception that is being practiced apon the character? And if it’s a deception, and the character doesn’t really need to do [X], then what is the true source and purpose of the advantage that the character receives?

Or is the dependency/need a racial factor? Like Aquaman, can the character only survive for so long without immersing themselves? Or do Orcs need to purge their hormones with the type of adrenalin surge that you only get through anger?

Or is the dependency the work of a third party, affecting individuals from multiple races? Why?

That last is the key question for this category. Why is the character dependant on [X]? Why does the character need to do {X}? The answers can be trivial, or they can open whole new aspects of the game world to the character.

Flaw Treatment – A Systemic Problem

I’ve already indicated that there are limitations on the usefulness of the treatments offered for the removal of flaws, but there are a couple of systemic problems with the game mechanics offered that also need consideration.

The official mechanic is that once a character achieves the required level, they simply arrange – in game – to receive the appropriate treatment. In some cases, this may be achieved by obtaining a specific feat, or a magic item, or being the subject of a particular spell, and so on. The first requirement is to achieve the specified level, and that’s where the problem lies.

Commencement Level

A lot of GMs start their campaigns at a higher character level than first. That means that – under the rules as written – a character is essentially being handed an extra feat, an extra serving of skill points, or both – with none of the pricetags or character development that the flaws system is designed to express.

There is, of course, the obvious solution of ruling that Flaws is not a valid choice for such campaigns – but that’s not all that happy a solution, since it throws the baby out with the bathwater.

A better solution is to make the buy-off point relative instead of fixed. Instead of the character needing to earn N levels from 1st level, what if the character had to earn N levels from the commencement point of the campaign?

Even better, what if the GM permitted the character only to count levels in which the flaw had a significant influence on the game, in the GM’s opinion? It might take N levels, or N+1 levels, or whatever – but it would ensure that the character experienced the penalty of the flaw before it could be bought off; which is the same thing as the game experiencing the benefits of the flaws system.

Expanding the boundaries

Other options exist for the GM to consider. Here’s a meaty one: Doubling the buy-off target for double the benefits.

That means that instead of One Feat for One Flaw, a character might receive two feats, or twice as many skill points, or a partial dose of both, but not be able to buy off the flaw for six levels instead of three.

That’s an obvious choice, but the GM should be wary – too many feats for a single character can be game-unbalancing. If he permits this option, he should be careful to ensure that NPCs take advantage of the opportunity as well, in roughly the same proportions as the PCs do – if one in four takes the double-buy-off, then one in four NPCs should, as well.

Compounding Flaws

Another option is for the GM to provide an extra reward for flaws whose consequences readily stack. If the consequences of a single flaw are viewed as a set of circumstances under which the flaw impacts the character in negative way, then multiple flaws can be viewed as compounding when the triggering circumstances overlap.

When this is the case, the flaws can be said to compound under the right circumstances. The broader the overlap, the more likely that both restrictions will take effect at the same time, proving more detrimental than either would be on their own.

How much should compounding flaws be worth? This is a difficult question, because the degree of overlap can vary, as the series of diagrams show. As a general rule of thumb, however, I would argue the following as reasonable:

No Overlap	No extra
Slight Overlap	+1 skill point
Substantial Overlap	+2 skill points
Significant Overlap	+3 skill points

Any such extras should be applied only AFTER any effects from Expanding The Boundaries, above.

Synergising Flaws

Alternatively, a flaw could emphasise existing character constraints or predispositions, in which case it can be said to be a Synergising Flaw. One old-school example might be a flaw that restricted a cleric to a single variety of weapon – given that they used to be restricted to non-bladed-weapons by the rules, but my preferred example comes from KODT: the character formerly used by Brian, “Amber Lotus”, who was a fire mage who had taken the “Pyromaniac” flaw.

The result of a synergising flaw is that the character is rewarded for something that he would be doing anyway. The rule of thumb that I would normally apply in such a case is a maxim from the Hero System: A disadvantage that is not disadvantageous is worth no points.

But this can be a difficult area to police. In the case of “Amber Lotus”, which came first: the focus on Fire Magic or the Pyromania? Viewed one way, it’s a character design that takes advantage of the rules to gain an unwarranted advantage; viewed another way, it’s a character design that reflects consistency of concept, with a flaw that has impacted on the character’s choice of careers. One is rorting the system (or, at best, min-maxing outrageously); the other is good character design and good roleplaying technique.

This is where the refinement that I offered under the heading of “Commencement Level” above becomes relevant. Not only would I ensure that the penalty for the flaw (and it’s worth noting that “Pyromaniac” is not actually one of the flaws listed in the e-book) reduced the character’s ability with non-fire magic, but I would not consider a level in which the character’s choice of spells was the only negative impact as “counting” toward the buy-off target. Instead, in order to be counted, I would require the mage to have needed to cast a non-fire spell and for it to have failed because of the penalty, or in which the character set inappropriate fires to the detriment of the party.

This is a harsher restriction than would normally be appropriate; but, when discounted for the Synergising effect, it would be at about the right standard.

Flaws as characterisation

One final criticism can be levelled at Flaws – that it gives characters a reward for doing what players should be doing anyway. This is criticism that cuts right to the heart of the philosophic foundations of the supplement, and as such is not easily dismissed.

That’s because, to at least some extent, it’s true. It is, however, a truth that fails to view this game supplement in the proper perspective: Flaws is a source of inspiration, a tool to stimulate personality and roleplay. It is from that perspective that I approached it from the moment I first opened the file, and that is the perspective that led to the critique and embellishments that have been offered in this article.

Like any tool, the value of Flaws is not that it should not be necessary, but that it gives the campaign more characterisation gristle for both players and GM. Ultimately, the use of Flaws can be perceived as the GM rewarding the players for enriching the game for everyone. And that’s a fair bargain to strike.

March 2011’s RPG Blog Carnival covered Life and Death in RPG. Full XP to everyone who participated with insightful and inspirational articles, and thanks for your contributions.

Readers, you are in for a treat as you have many articles to choose from this month. I encourage you to read through them and make life and death more memorable elements of your games.

• “Despite how much the hobby has grown, it is hard not to notice how much of each core book for each game is devoted to the taking of life, as opposed to living it.” That is the central issue discussed by Casting Shadows in their post, To Live and Die in Roleplay.

• In Burial Customs of the RandomDM, we are treated to some sweet tables to generate death rites in your game’s cultures. I am always a sucker for good random tables.

• Read about memorable character deaths over at The Dump Stat in their post, RPG Blog Carnival March Part 1 – Life and Death in RPG @ Campaign Mastery.

• Moebius Adventures explores the carnival topic in two parts. In Pt. 1 – Life, he talks about the importance of backgrounds in character development. Pt. 2 – Death discusses how the death of all things should have an effect, and to not fall into the video game mindset of infinite lives and foes.

• Is healing too easy in D&D? Mike Bourke poses that question and delves into fluff and crunch commentary in his article, Too Much Life for The Living.

• Dark Dungeon 2nd Edition offers us several cool ideas for using reincarnation for characters in your campaign in The Joys of Reincarnation and The Shock of Reincarnation. A third interesting post – The Secret of Reincarnation – explores how a society would be different if its citizens had past-life memories.

• Tower of the Archmage muses over past campaign situations in their blog post, Life and Death in RPGs. Is life cheap?

• Casting Shadows philosophizes on the matter in his post Turning the Wheel. I like his tie-in with gaming experience and the changing nature of RPG, a mini turning of the wheel itself.

• One GM plans on shifting more towards death. Read how in the post Death and Undeath in my games over at Creatively Anomalous.

• In Life, Death, and Life Renewed, Mike explores the consequence of rules changes because of a switch to game editions on the same world. And rather than take one of the common solutions other gamers came up with, he chose The Third Way.

• Dvoid Systems handles the tricky matter of why the PCs risk their lives in the post Life and Death in D-Jumpers. I’m glad this is talked about. It has always seemed strange to me that PCs laugh at death and never suffer from stuff like PTSD. I guess that’s the escapist element of RPG.

• The Action Point teaches us to ensure NPCs will be missed and grieved for in their good article, Murdering Your NPCs.

• The carnival of life from the Fame & Fortune blog explores how changes in birth and mortality rates might affect your game. And the carnival of death discusses the other side of the coin, including funerary rites, veneration of the dead, and death of species.

• Surprise Round brings up great points about character death and how to handle it. Check out The death and life of a PC.

• RandomDM treats us to more tables in Rites of Passage, covering random life events.

• Johnn tackles a tricky campaign situation where the PCs and their foes race against each other to contact a dead NPC. This situation evolves into a formula to help GMs play out spells in interesting ways. How To Cast A Spell On Your Campaign And Make It Sparkle Like Gold Dust.

• Hey, undead are people too. Shouldn’t they get personality, backstories, and intriguing goals like the rest of us NPCs? Check out the Undead Foe Generator.

• Late To The Party offers this excellent opening line in their post about game balance, Life is Cheap: “I tend to run dirtbag games and resurrection is generally off the table.”

• Scrolls of the Platinum Warlock talks about how death had poignant impact on a recent game in In Which The Warlock Mourns the Death of a Plane…

• Dungeon’s Master talks about the implications of casting the Raise Dead ritual in Casting Raise Dead, and then possible campaign opportunities in the cool topic, Negotiating For Souls.

• Death and the Underworld in the Sea of Stars recounts the premise of the PCs as death’s agents for the longest running campaign Sean has had in his excellent Sea of Stars setting.

If all has gone according to plan, you are now looking at the final part of what’s been a massive series on the Pulp Genre. This article is mostly afterthoughts and GM advice that I’ve culled from many discussions with players and with my co-GM, Blair Ramage, together with some stuff straight from my own head. It’s a cleanup article, let’s be honest, the appendices that go with the series. But there’s something of value here for everyone…

Invert Tropes Selectively

There was a lot of advice in parts of the previous articles about inverting established tropes and genre conventions, especially when it came to matters of race and culture. It’s easy to get carried away when doing so, making each NPC a square peg in a round hole, simply to make them more interesting. Doing so devalues the effect; in order for the exceptional characters to contrast strongly with the norms, those norms need to be the most common foundation for characters. Your game is best served by working within the clichés as much as possible and reserving the exceptions for when they will be significant.

Your accountants should all be mousy types who are good with numbers and not much else – unless it is especially important that one is not. Your Irish-Americans should all be heavy drinkers who work in law-enforcement – unless it matters that one is not.

Another way to look at this is to say that your characters should follow clichés unless the genre is overruled by the power of plot, which – as discussed in the first article of the series – overrules genre conventions when necessary.

This has the effect of letting your players quickly assess the nature of a character, extrapolate from the genre conventions, take note of what’s significant, and discard the rest; it enables them to focus on the plot.

There is also the added benefit that the players are rewarded for knowing and following the genre conventions and stereotypes, which is an important subject addressed below (“Genre Enforcement”).

Especially For Sidekicks

The temptation to invert tropes tends to be especially strong when it comes to sidekicks and villains. Because these characters are more significant than the run-of-the-mill NPC, there is a desire to make them individuals, and to ensure that they stand out from a crowd.

That alone is not a good enough reason to invert a genre cliché of characterization. Giving the villain enough originality that they can be the foundation of multiple plotlines is a better reason, but one that will not normally be valid for sidekicks.

If anything, convention inversion should never be used for sidekicks so that they do not distract from the villain. If a hierarchy of increasing NPC individuality is considered:

• General Public
• Grunts and Muscle
• Named One-off NPCs
• Recurring NPCs
• Prominent NPCs

…then villains occupy the top level, while Sidekicks occupy the middle level. In effect, they are a Mook with a name and a smattering of personality.

I once created a Villain for my superhero game and made the mistake of giving him a sidekick who was more interesting than the supposed focal point of the adventure. As a result, it did not go well – right up to the point where (in desperation) I made the Sidekick the real “power behind the throne”, pulling the villain’s strings. Suddenly, the adventure came to life just in time to reach a sparkling conclusion. Sidekicks should exemplify the genre conventions.

Players, Trust Your GMs

No matter how much the theorists might suggest that participating in an RPG is a cooperative venture between GM and Players, there is always an element of competition between PCs and GM simply because the latter controls the former’s enemies. This sometimes-adversarial aspect of the relationship can never be wholly eliminated from the game.

Unfortunately, this often leads players to be suspicious of the GMs when they offer information or plot leads. At its worst, this can become something akin to full-blown paranoia. Because of some of its genre conventions, like the deathtrap, the Pulp Genre can be especially susceptible to this.

Just because your GM is plotting, that doesn’t mean that he’s plotting against you!

It’s part of the GM’s job description to make life as difficult and interesting as possible for the PCs – and to make sure that they get out of it with their skins intact. They are to generate situations that produce thrills and spills, but setting out to willingly screw his players over would also be screwing with his campaign.

The more adversarial the players are, the more a GM is forced to reciprocate in order to keep the adventure moving. So, players, cut the GM some slack – and expect him to reciprocate when the time is right. The goal is to have the best adventure collectively possible, okay?

Genre Enforcement

Another part of the GM’s job is to enforce the genre, and this is where things can get sticky. For example, in the pulp genre, federal officials are trustworthy and honest until proven otherwise, regardless of appearance. If the players react to everything that such an official says with distrust and suspicion, they are contravening genre, and the game suffers as a result. The harm might be as small as hours of wasted time while the players hatch plans to deal with any betrayal, or it might be the total derailing of the adventure because the plot twist (betrayal by the official) has been anticipated by the PCs.

For that matter, spending hours planning anything is a violation of genre by the players.

Having said that, you can take the player out of the culture, but cannot take the culture out of the player – at least not completely. Or perhaps that should read, “you can take the PC out of the player, but…”. The GMs have to compromise genre a little to make their game accessible to modern audiences. That means that if an NPC is supposed to be trustworthy, according to convention, part of the GM’s task is making that NPC feel trustworthy to the players.

That means that in most modern campaigns, especially with players who are unfamiliar with the genre conventions, genre enforcement can be a significant problem. It was while discussing this issue that Blair and I began to conceive of this article series.

Adversarial Enforcement

The worst possible approach is to attempt to employ force majeure to enforce genre conventions. Banning players from making plans, for example, or mandating that “your characters trust this NPC”, or otherwise explicitly interfering with the players freedom to express and control their characters. This achieves nothing in terms of solving the overall problem while arousing resentment.

Only slightly better is attempting to use logic, even the logic of genre convention, to persuade players that their PCs should behave in a certain way, or not behave in a certain way. This can arouse feelings of inadequacy in the players and heighten the sense of disconnection from the genre that logically results from not living in that time and culture.

Education

A far better approach is to educate the players as to the genre conventions, and then use a carrot-and-stick approach to enforcement. Providing such education is the purpose of the entire article series to this point. The articles are not aimed at GMs so much as they is aimed at Players.

Having provided the information necessary for such an education, it’s now time to move on to the ultimate point that the series has been aiming toward from word one, which is providing specific advice or GMs on the subject of Genre Enforcement.

A Foolish Consistency

The first point to be made is this: Choose Your Battles Carefully.

Fighting unnecessary battles does nothing but tire both sides out and make people sick of the subject, unwilling to listen, when it does matter.

Every time that a genre convention is broken, the GM should consider whether or not it will make any real difference to just let it slide. Only if it will really matter should the GM consider any form of active genre enforcement.

In-Play Constraint

That is not to say that the GM should not anticipate possible genre violations in advance, and arrange in-game circumstances accordingly. If there is a character that you expect the players to mistrust and who you want to make trusted, introduce them early and spend game time making them trustworthy. If you want the characters to act and react on their wits and not spend time pre-planning, arrange events in-game so that they don’t have time.

Communications technology is primitive. Enforce the difficulties of collusion. If the players are separated, require contact to be by (written) telegram, or timed telephone call (there’s no such thing as a conference call in this era, remember), or a simulation of radio protocols (you can talk or you can listen, you can’t do both).

Transportation technology is also primitive. If the party have different places to go, they will have to split up, and may have to do so immediately if they are to reach their destination in time.

Control WHEN the genre violation occurs instead of WHETHER it occurs. If PCs have to travel to the adventure on a ship, give them a brief period to brainstorm in advance (5 minutes per PC sounds about right) before they depart, and let them plot to their hearts’ content when underway – with no preparations that can’t be made with what they have with them already. If they discover that they need a radio set, they will have to acquire one while underway unless they had the foresight to pack one in the first place. Force the players to improvise with what their characters have brought with them.

Lead By Example

It is incumbent on the GM to ensure that he establishes the standard of behavior that he expects to enforce with his own behavior. It is not enough merely to tell the players what is expected of them in terms of genre conventions, he has to demonstrate them.

Experience

Most genre-enforcement will occur in a metagame context, however, and controlling the experience awarded is one of the best tools available.

Award extra experience to a character who is played in-genre even despite the players’ natural inclinations. If the players want to take an out-of-genre advantage, let them buy the ability to do so with a reduction in the amount of XP to be awarded for achieving success.

These techniques in combination make for a very powerful tool. It leaves the choice of whether or not to violate genre in the hands of the players while establishing that there is a cost to doing so – in effect, a cost for claiming an advantage within the game that the characters are not supposed to have.

But they are very blunt instruments. Reserve them for major violations or plot points. Willingly letting themselves be captured in hopes of learning more about what is going on? Bonus XP. Refusing to let themselves be captured? Reduction in XP. Letting the Villain capture them only to avoid this penalty? Neither bonus nor penalty.

Most importantly, communicate. If someone is about to violate genre, warn them of the infraction and the cost if they continue to pursue their current course, then leave it up to them. This reminds the players of what the genre conventions are, educating them while rewarding those who learn.

And if you’re concerned that the extra experience will unbalance the game, make allowances for the awarding of extra XP when planning your regular XP awards. Instead of “4 XP” (Hero Games scale), make the base for successfully completing the mission “2 XP + up to 2 bonus XP”. Use one point of bonus for roleplay or being clever or whatever, and use the other for genre enforcement.

Bonuses & Penalties

For lesser choices that are either in keeping with, or opposed to, genre convention, a better choice is to award a one-off bonus or penalty to whatever it is that the character is attempting to achieve. That could be a bluff, or a persuasion, or an investigation, or an attack mode, or (in fact) just about any task the character wants to attempt.

This bonus should be doubled, or penalty halved, if the action is in keeping with the character’s Shtick, whatever that might be. An acrobatically-inclined character should receive bonuses to swinging from chandeliers when that’s appropriate.

To be honest, we’re fairly generous when it comes to these one-off bonuses. If the action is entertaining enough, or advances the plot in the direction we think it should go, or is simply fun for the player, we might award additional bonuses. If the circumstances favor performing the action, of course, there will be bonuses on top of that. Even if each of these individual bonuses were capped at +2 (on 3d6), putting them all together could earn the character up to a +10 – and there is no such cap (but bonuses of this scale are rare, +4 is more typical total).

On the other hand, actions that derail the plotline (like trying to kill the villain in the first act rather than learn what he’s up to), actions that are contrary to what’s appropriate to the character, actions that put a dampener on the fun at the table – these are all good reasons to award an ad-hoc penalty. Doing everything wrong can earn a -10 penalty just as easily as doing everything right grants a +10 bonus.

It’s also fairly unusual for us to announce these bonuses, though we will do so from time to time (as much to remind the players that they exist). More often, we will vary the target value to be achieved for success.

The result is that actions that are in keeping with genre conventions, that are in line with what the character is good at, that bring the fun, are all more likely to succeed – and those that aren’t are more likely to fail. And you had better believe that players are quick to learn what works and what doesn’t!

Plot Convolutions

Another technique is to convolute the plot to circumvent any genre violations. This is a more problematic approach, but one that has its place in any GMs repertoire.

There is not a lot of fun for the players if things are too easy. Contemplate the following sequence of events:

1. The GM presents the PCs with a problem;
2. The players spend three hours plotting and making contingency plans to deal with the problem;
3. The GM informs the players that everything went according to plan and hands out XP for the adventure.

Inserting an intervening penultimate step to have the players actually roleplay through their success is an improvement, but still a marginal one.

This is no fun for anyone. It is far better for the GMs to metagame in this situation, to improvise plot complications and convolutions that the players have not anticipated, than for them not to do so.

This is a delicate line to cross, but as an example it clearly shows that there are some circumstances in which the GM should adopt an adversarial approach, and should employ every dirty trick in their repertoires, utilize every advantage that they can muster, including any knowledge of what the players have planned or might plan in secret.

This is, paradoxically, a situation in which the players have to trust the GM – not to abuse their authority and power. That simply won’t be possible unless the GM has previously earned and established that trust.

Compensation

Which brings me to another tricky point. If the GM blatantly metagames in this fashion, should the PCs be compensated in some way? Extra XP, bonuses?

My opinion is that the only justifiable reason for the GM to metagame in this way is to compensate for an egregious and blatant genre violation on the part of the players. Any form of compensation for doing so sends mixed messages and rewards the players for failing to live up to their part of the genre equation. On the contrary, the penalties discussed earlier are more appropriate than any form of compensation.

This is an extremely hard-line position to hold, and that means that it should not be applied lightly. A certain level of planning by the PCs should be accepted by the GM, and if he needs to alter the adventure slightly to keep it challenging as a result, that is part of the burdon of being a GM. Only in the most extreme of circumstances should the GM adopt such a hard line, and he should make it very clear to the players that this action has been taken in response to the genre violation.

The result will almost certainly be a heated conversation, something the GM should be prepared for. The players will almost certainly see this as penalizing them for being too clever for the GM, and they will have a point; however, the ultimate good of the game is at stake, and the GM should make his objections to the behavior clear to the players.

This should certainly be a last resort, not to be employed until after other attempts at remedial action have failed.

Integrating Exceptions

Of course, if there is an occasion when letting the PCs have planning time will change nothing in terms of the adventure – and this happens more often with Pulp scenarios than many GMs expect – then the GM should permit the players to plot and plan all they want. At the same time, this represents the perfect opportunity to educate the players without creating ill-will – “It’s not quite genre-accurate, but I’ll let you do it this time”.

A Summary Of The Conventions

I thought that it might be a good idea to reiterate all the genre conventions before moving on to the big finish of both the article and the series…

World Conventions

• Gender Issues – how are women treated?
• Racial Stereotypes – use clichés and exceptions
• Weird Science Works – use it as necessary
• The Backyard Is The Forefront – most scientific progress happens through private research by backyard inventors
• Outlandish Technology Looks The Part – practice your descriptions of “look and feel”
• Strange Things Lurk In The Unknown – there are strange powers and unspeakable horrors that science cannot explain
• Magic is Real and usually Evil
• Nightmares leave no mark – there is never proof of the paranormal
• Optimism Trumps Cynicism – make sure that there is always a way for the PCs to win in the end
• There’s Always Enough Money – resources are unlimited
• The Five Corners of the World – nowhere is fully explored
• Most worlds have breathable atmospheres – and there are ways to travel to them
• It’s Alive! – and it wants to invade earth
• The Ether is Real – which means no Einsteinian Limits

Story Conventions

• Action is always Right – doing something always advances the plot
• Risk Equals Reward – the more risk a PC takes, the more success they will have in the long run
• Over-planning leads to Opposition – as explained above
• Players, permit your characters to be captured – put PCs in position to learn what the villain is up to
• Spectacle Equals Success for the Heroes – the more flamboyant the action, the more likely it should be to succeed
• Fiendish Death Traps are both inevitable and doomed to failure
• Characters rarely die
• Death Is Cheap for everyone else
• Henchmen are Disposable – so use them up
• Assassination never pays – attempting to kill the heroes before they interfere only makes them mad
• Most targets are faster than most speeding bullets – everyone should miss more often than they hit
• Damsels may be in distress – the role of women in a campaign is an important decision
• SWF, Villain’s Assistant, Seeks Hero – assistant villainesses always fall for the hero
• The Government are (usually) the Good Guys
• KOs – Violence that should break bones and cause permanent injuries do little but knock PCs & major NPCs out
• In The Nick Of Time – cliffhangers are an occupational hazard
• Ninety Miles An Hour is how fast the game should run
• The Improbable is Probable – coincidences happen – in the PCs favour if they have acted instead of debating
• The Villain will return
• Story trumps reality
• A foolish consistency – physics can change from adventure to adventure if necessary – use the Asimov technique
• Silencers Are Golden – good for unlimited shots and more effective than they have ever been in real life
• Use detail where it doesn’t matter
• Super-men and Elite Forces – have a rational explanation for the alliance of the PCs
• The Authorities are Inadequate to whatever the problem is
• Straight (plot-) Lines always Twist
• Optimism Trumps Cynicism (again)- there’s never a problem too big for a PC to solve

Character Conventions

• Use Gender issues to define characters
• Racial Stereotypes & Cliches – employ the 90/10 rule
• Society Is Perfect – someone’s always to blame when things go wrong
• Morality is Black & White
• Parity Of Weapons use – PCs shouldn’t use anything stronger than the villains do
• Motives are simple
• Chutzpah beats expertise, Every Time
• Everyone’s (a) Jack-of-all-trades – every character has whatever skill they need to win in the end
• Smart Characters are still Smart
• and yet, the smartest characters have Inexplicable Lapses in Judgment
• The Jungle Breeds Noble Savages
• Leopards hardly ever change their spots – villains will usually stay villains and heroes usually stay heroes
• Irredeemable Evil can be used to explore complex moral questions with focus
• Villains (usually) boast
• Melodramatic Schemes are par for the course
• Everyone is a Master of Disguise at times
• Respect your enemy (your enemy grudgingly respects you)
• Optimism Trumps Cynicism (one more time) – people are always confident things will get better (doubters aren’t right in the head)
• Characters are colorful
• The Feds are the Good Guys
• A Depth of Character – don’t mistake simple building blocks for simplistic characters
• Pretty Girls and Macho Men – everyone is attractive
• A Warped Body means a Warped Mind
• Businessmen are either Philanthropists or (Greedy) Industrialists
• People dress appropriately (unless it’s funny)
• Individuals thrive, conformity withers
• Everyone is doomed to fulfill their Destiny (whatever it is)
• Villains are frequently hoist be their own petards
• Consumption is (usually) safe
• Internal Consistency is important but less vital in pulp

It’s Not Just Pulp

Much of the advice offered in this series transcends the pulp genre itself, as Rodney observed in the comments to Part 7.

But the value of these genre conventions extends beyond the pulp genre in another vital way: considering them and translating them into the equivalents for a different genre can be used to create a similar roadmap for that genre. The advice and discussion offered with each can then be used to determine game impact of the specific genre and subgenre.

For example, let’s start looking at:

a science fiction genre:

Gender issues – equality is assumed. Issues relating to gender equality can be explored using a character who is deemed to be equal but who is actually inferior by nature.

Racial Stereotypes – racial profiles are in common use but are considered to be oversimplification, however accurate a foundation they form for individual personalities. Many races are subject to racial prejudice by a small minority, but equality is the standard.

Science works – everything that happens has a scientific explanation (or at least a pseudo-scientific explanation).

Technobabble works – the better a player is at describing how to rearrange the engineering using buzzwords and technobabble, the better his character is at getting technology to achieve a specific effect.

Progress Requires Teamwork – almost all scientific progress is achieved by a research team focusing on a single issue in a specially-equipped laboratory. Only advances in theory may take place outside this environment.

Outlandish Technology looks mundane and is remarkably easy to use.

…and so on.

Conclusion: What Is A Genre?

When you get right down to it, What is a genre? I consider it a set of assumptions concerning the environment in which a story takes place, a set of conditions that describe the nature of the stories, and a set of characterization guidelines that are compatible with, and logical derivatives of, the preceding elements. Sometimes this defines a subgenre within a broader framework, but for all practical purposes a subgenre is merely a genre which has a certain resemblance to related genres.

ANY genre can be defined using this framework, and those definitions are automatically in a format that manifests as a practical guide to GMs and Players and Writers working within that genre. The Empire Of The Petal Throne is not the same genre as Bushido, which is not the same genre as D&D, which is not the same genre as Rolemaster. These are similar, clearly related, but with different assumptions as to the nature of the world, the nature of the plotlines, and the nature of the characters that will participate. Some things are common to all – in the broadest possible sense – but there are enough differences to make each unique.

What’s even more important and useful is that individual campaigns can be described using exactly the same framework. The result is an explicit blueprint by which the GM can communicate the ground rules of a campaign to his players.

And anything that makes it easier for GM and players to communicate is worthwhile. These are your tools now – go out and use them!

If two people are casting Speak With Dead on the same body, does one get a busy signal?

In my Riddleport Pathfinder campaign, an NPC named Halcos was assassinated as the PCs were dragging him away to be interrogated. In reaction, the party plans to bring the body to an allied temple for a Speak With Dead service.

The faction who killed Halcos does not want this to happen. Halcos knows stuff the faction wants kept a secret.

Two enemy tactics come to mind immediately. One is to get to Halcos first in his afterlife and warn him of the consequences of talking with the PCs. Second is to physically foil the PCs’ Speak With Dead attempt.

These are great ideas, but how to bring them into the game? I do not want to wave my GM wand and tell the PCs the body is missing. There’s no fun in that. There’s especially no game in that.

So, as I’ve done in the past, I go through a short process to figure out how to make a game of spells. I want to bring things down to the encounter level where actions are possible and ready to trigger.

I find these kinds of encounters compelling because they are tied to the party and past campaign events. They are not random or isolated encounters.

If the PCs succeed in foiling the faction’s attempts, and succeed in talking with Halcos, then not only has the victory been well-earned, but they’ve changed the game world a bit and seen it change around them as well.

The steps for casting a spell on your campaign

Here is a rough list of planning actions I take to turn spells into encounters:

1. Determine limitations
2. Guess PC actions
3. Turn limitations into tactics
4. Turn limitations into details
5. Determine the cost
6. Embed into your world
7. Bonus: generate encounter seeds

1. Determine limitations

We’re dealing with a spell as the central issue. The PCs are going to pay to have one cast. The faction is going to try to get it cast before the PCs do. What happens?

First, lets look that spell up in the rules and determine all the parameters we have to work with. Limitations are a source of creativity. They defeat blank page writer’s block.

I enjoy going back to the rules and seeing how they shape the reality of the game. Doing this often gives you a bunch of options for PCs and foes to overcome, deal with, or take advantage of, depending on the nature of the limitation.

So, before I do anything, I like to look up the spell description and note the parameters I have to work with.

The spell in question: Speak With Dead for PFRPG. It offers these parameters:

10′ range

The person casting the spell needs to be within 10′ of the body. Interesting! This gives the PCs the current edge because they have the body right now. Their foes will have to find a way to get within 10 feet to speak with Halcos in his afterlife.

Cleric, spell level 3

Means the PCs will need to outsource the casting because they are not powerful enough to cast it themselves. An alternative tactic would be to wait until they were powerful enough. Is this likely?

Well, they own an inn with a chilly basement and even a couple of secret rooms. So body storage is not an issue. Is the information they need urgent? From their point of view, they just want to know why Halcos was murdered before he could be interrogated. It’s a mystery, which is compelling, but otherwise there is no current need for urgency.

This is cool, because I can now use Halcos as a source of clues. As the PCs play through various plot threads, I can hint that Halcos might have important information regarding these. I have a lever to create urgency when desired for the PCs to Speak With Dead on Halcos. I just need to include Halcos in other plot threads. This lever could help me meta-game things in favour of more exciting encounters.

To answer the main question though, yes, it is possible the PCs will delay the spell casting.

How about the he PCs’ foes? They do have immediate access to third level cleric spells, so they can disregard this parameter. However, the PCs could figure out who could do the casting for their foes and neutralize them, making it impossible for their enemies to speak with the dead Halcos. Interesting!

As the party is low level and weak, and without much obvious leverage, I do not think the possibility of neutralizing the enemy’s casting sources likely; however I will keep it in mind.

Can the foes execute the same tactic – neutralize PC ally casting sources? The PCs would likely go to their friends at the Temple of Dreams for the casting. A raid on the temple might work. Perhaps some politics or coercion with the temple’s leadership so they deny the PCs’ request. That is also a good possibility.

School and Level – Necromancy 3

No limitations here. The mages’ guild in Riddleport has restrictions on what spells their members can know, cast and sell castings of, but the various Riddleport temples do not, other than standard alignment and ethos restrictions.

The PCs should be able to ask their allies, the Temple of Dreams, for this service without problem as long as they have the guilders (Riddleport gold pieces). A potential tactic for foes might be to rob the PCs so they cannot afford the casting, but it is likely their ally would offer a loan or gimme.

While the PCs will need to tap their allies for necromantic spells, their foes have necromantic spells on tap. Further, they are aware of the PCs’ alliance with the Temple of Dreams.

another idea: is there a way to globally disable necromantic castings in the city? Hmmm, not really. But it was worth a shot.

Casting time 10 minutes

This means no snatch-and-cast possibility for the foes, putting things in the PCs’ favour. If it took only seconds to cast, foes could distract the PCs for mere moments to get in their spell first. This is a huge limitation. The foe caster will need at least 10 minutes undisturbed with the body to get the spell off, which means a good hiding spot, defenses, and escape plan.

This analysis provides me clear guidance on a potential foe plan. They need to find the body, determine if and how it’s being guarded by the PCs, wrest it away, hide out, and then protect a priest for 10 minutes while he casts the spell.

Likewise, PCs will need to protect the body for 10 minutes while an ally casts, or they do the casting themselves when able in the future.

The foes figure assaulting a temple should the PCs opt to tap an ally is not the best course of action, so they need to get the body before a PC ally gets involved.

Though, if the PCs opt to bring a caster to the body, that’s a different story. Aha!

The foes figure this unlikely though, but they better put a tail on the group to see if they do travel to a priest and start bringing one back to their home base.

Saving Throw

A Will save blocks the spell if the dead person has a different alignment from the caster.

Halcos was evil. The enemy has already scouted the PCs and knows their auras – alignment and magic. (You can’t beat good information gathering – foes watch and re-scan the PCs regularly.)

Good news for the enemy is Halcos cannot block resist their spell. It’s the price Halcos pays for his sins in life. Against the PCs, however, Halcos can try to resist unless the party hires an evil spellcaster, which is unlikely.

Components

Speak With Dead needs prayers spoken, holy gestures made, and a holy symbol or divine focus. All are situational. Technically, either side could silence the area before or during spell casting, or prevent the caster from making any gestures, or take away the caster’s focus item to prevent the casting.

The enemy will have spells and tactics ready to spoil components as a long-shot backup plan. Too many variables to count on this. Beside, this would be a stalling manoeuvre, at best.

Duration

The spell lasts at least three minutes. Foes know combats last seconds, so no advantage here.

Spell Details

The spell description ends up having many juicy details that arm me with ideas and tactics.

“You may ask one question per two caster levels.”
The enemy’s caster allows them at least two dozen six questions. Likely, the PCs’ hired caster can ask a dozen three or so. A dozen too many, for the enemy’s comfort.

“The corpse’s knowledge is limited to what it knew during life, including the languages it spoke.”
Halcos spoke Teldane (common). However, see the next item for an interesting possibility.

“Answers are brief, cryptic, or repetitive, especially if the creature would have opposed you in life.”
The first opportunity is, as GM, I can swing answers how I like. I am a fair GM, though, and will answer in-character for Halcos, though cryptic is my middle name.

Second opportunity is, Halcos will oppose the PCs at every step because they got him killed. At least, that’s the way he sees it. So, Halcos will be as short and unhelpful as possible. He knows three languages. The spell does not say he needs to use a language the caster understands. So, he will try his other two languages to foil the caster.

Halcos know Korvosan and Riddleport Slang. The PCs have these languages covered, unfortunately, but there is room for them to make a tactical error. They often divide themselves. Could be, one of more PCs does not take part in this encounter, or are sent away to multi-task on something, or are indisposed of. It’s a small chance, but I’ll keep it in mind.

“If the dead creature’s alignment was different from yours, the corpse gets a Will save to resist the spell as if it were alive. If successful, the corpse can refuse to answer your questions or attempt to deceive you, using Bluff.”
We covered the saving throw above. Halcos was an expert bluffer. That could be fun to play out!

One thing my players tend to do is accept the second answer in parleys and not dig deeper. I do not know why. So, Halcos just needs to Bluff a Bluff to foil the PCs.

For example, if the PCs successfully Sense Motive on Halcos making a Bluff, they will call him on it and use what little leverage they can to make him tell the truth (probably just Intimidate, unless they take time to delve into Halcos’ life to find some leverage – it’s what I’d do, but the party will likely not go this route). So, Halcos just needs to lie about his lie and the PCs will likely accept the second explanation.

In-character, Halcos think the characters are suckers, but does not know the players are too. However, as with most evil creatures caught between a rock and hard place, they will keep lying and reveal the truth only for great advantage or as a last resort.

Still, the enemy cannot count on this, and they remain worried about what Halcos might reveal about them.

“The soul can only speak about what it knew in life. It cannot answer any questions that pertain to events that occurred after its death.”
Fair enough. Nothing comers to mind about taking advantage of this for better gameplay or NPC tactical advantage.

“If the corpse has been subject to speak with dead within the past week, the new spell fails.”
Aha! Stop everything. This little detail offers a tasty morsel of potential. The enemy just needs to cast Speak With Dead on Halcos before the PCs can, and the PCs are blocked for a week.

It’s a shame about the long casting time. A strike team could swoop in, cast the spell if it has short casting time, and buy the enemy a week of time to build a better and more permanent plan.

Correct me if I’m wrong, but the caster could start the spell nearby while hiding, and then get to within 10′ of Halcos in the final few seconds of the casting. The primary goal would be to get the spell off on Halcos before the PCs get their cast. Secondary goal would be to issue Halcos a warning to shut up and stay shut up, else his afterlife is in jeopardy too.

“You can cast this spell on a corpse that has been deceased for any amount of time, but the body must be mostly intact to be able to respond. A damaged corpse may be able to give partial answers or partially correct answers, but it must at least have a mouth in order to speak at all.”
Another potential tactic, if the NPCs can get close enough. Chopping Halcos’ head off and running away with it will block the PCs entirely. So will disfiguring Halcos’ face so he cannot talk.

This again requires getting into tactical distance for melee or offensive spells. The enemy does not know where Halcos’ body is, so hopefully the tail on the PCs discovers it.

“This spell does not affect a corpse that has been turned into an undead creature.”
Wow, another sweet option. Thank you spell designers.

The enemy need only cast Animate Dead, which requires a touch but only takes a standard action (a couple seconds) to cast.

So, the enemy could ambush the PCs taking Halcos to the Temple of Dreams, have a caster sneak up and cast Animate Dead on Halcos, and the whole problem is solved.

What if the PCs kill Halcos-turned-zombie? I would rule that, once animated, a corpse has the taint of undead on it that prevents any Speak With Dead castings. The players might argue this, so I’ll be prepared to defend my position when it comes time to do a group vote on the ruling.

Note: while writing this, the fine folks at Gnome Stew wrote a post about spells changing the world. I recommend giving it a read, as well.

Stay tuned for part 2 of this article, where I outline the other steps for using spells to make your campaign glitter:

1. Guess PC actions
2. Turn limitations into tactics
3. Turn limitations into details
4. Determine the cost
5. Embed into your world
6. Bonus: generate encounter seeds

I also include examples and some tips so you can put this advice to use in your campaign immediately.

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