A friend in my gaming group found this for sale on ebay: Oeities and Oemigoos.
Mom apparently didn't get the font.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Library Tombs
For those who have the right resources (Kings, Colleges of Magic, Death Cults, etc.), the bodies of wise and important people could be kept perpetually in a state of "Gentle Repose" (or even just mummified), allowing their wisdom to be preserved and later accessed through "Speak with Dead," or, in extreme situations, Resurrection.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
I Can Has 4e Box Sets?
Last night I finished running Keep on the Shadowfell, and I've been considering whether I would want to purchase another adventure module.
One of my favorite things about Keep on the Shadowfell were the poster sized combat maps for use in the major encounters. I would love to have an adventure box set that included combat maps, maps of the general area, some customized dungeon tiles, props such as ritual scrolls, coins, letters, a wand, etc., and miniatures to represent major villians, npcs, or special monsters.
Perhaps there is potential here for third party products.
One of my favorite things about Keep on the Shadowfell were the poster sized combat maps for use in the major encounters. I would love to have an adventure box set that included combat maps, maps of the general area, some customized dungeon tiles, props such as ritual scrolls, coins, letters, a wand, etc., and miniatures to represent major villians, npcs, or special monsters.
Perhaps there is potential here for third party products.
Friday, September 19, 2008
The Chaotic Evil Dungeon Master
I don’t care what I have to do to get what I want.
I was a Chaotic Evil Dungeon Master.
When I first started Dungeon Mastering, I thought that the job of the DM was to create a story, then reveal that story to the players during the game sessions. Excited by the possibilities, I wrote dozens of plots, coming up with all kinds of cool things for the PCs to see and do.
I was enthralled with the real ultimate power that flowed from the Golden Rule of Gaming: the DM is always right. As DM, I had free reign to alter or ignore the rules as I needed in order to advance the plot. Dice rolls, stat blocks and such were only valuable inasmuch as they contribute to the story, and I was quite willing to fudge things when they would get in the way.
I thought that while it would be a serious breach of the social contract (I picked up the lingo quickly) for a Player to alter his character sheet or cheat on a die roll, this sort of thing was not only permitted for DMs, it was expected. This was confirmed by many sources.
Were there problems? Sure. How do you get the players to follow your plot without railroading them? Railroading, after all, was the cardinal sin of DMing, and I was determined to avoid it.
Two things helped me to avoid railroading: Plot Hooks, and False Choices.
Plot Hooks are things that you do to lure the PCs toward your plot. A hokey example would be the old man in the tavern who gives the PCs a quest. (No serious DM uses that one anymore). Other hooks (all of which I've used) include an ambush, transportation breaking down, running out of food or fuel, having something important to the PCs stolen, having someone important to the PCs killed or kidnapped, having "the law" chase the PCs, and imminent destruction of the PCs hometown/country/world.
But it was the False Choice that I thought was the ultimate DM tool. In my mind, a campaign could be pictured as a flow chart where each box had two or three different lines that all led to the next box.
It was easy. Say that the plot involves the search for pieces of a map that have been torn up and distributed throughout the world. One of these map pieces is in the possession of an NPC named Valthrun the Prescient.
Now a dull or uncreative DM might arrange it so that the only way to get the map piece would be to fight and kill Valthrun. I, however, being neither dull nor uncreative, would think up many creative ways in which the PCs could obtain the map piece. They might fight him for it, obtain it through fraud, pickpocket him, buy it from him, convince him to give it to them freely, charm him, or come up with something entirely new. I was fully prepared to improvise the encounter.
Better yet was the False Choice that doesn't tip your hand as to what you want the players to accomplish. Say you want the PCs to meet a really cool NPC named Valthrun who will advance the Story. Offer them several plot hooks, like being hired to go fight some orcs, or to go hunt down an escaped prisoner, or to escort a caravan. It doesn't matter which one they choose. If they go to fight the orcs, they will rescue Valthrun from being sacrificed by the orcs at the last minute. If they go hunt down the escaped prisoner, that prisoner will be Valthrun. If they escort the caravan, Valthrun will be traveling that way as well.
I saw myself as a Storyteller. My goal was to entice the PCs with Plot Hooks so that they could experience my Story through the illusion of False Choices.
It seems very difficult to prepare an adventure that does not use this style. I've yet to see a published module that did not seem to implicitly or even explicitly assume that I would use this style of DMing.
Preserving a sense of illusion is the key. When it’s mostly smoke and mirrors behind the screen, you better make sure those smoke and mirrors are really convincing. If you can convince your players that the really cool plot is a result of their choices, they will leave the game satisfied.
To that end, it is important to maintain the mystique of DMing. I spoiled too many of my early sessions by confiding in my players afterward, explaining exactly how I had improvised to make sure the plot would occur no matter what choices they made.
It’s kind of like being a magician. Never tell the audience how they were fooled.
The Lawful Good Dungeon Master
The Good Dungeon Master
The Evil Dungeon Master
I was a Chaotic Evil Dungeon Master.
When I first started Dungeon Mastering, I thought that the job of the DM was to create a story, then reveal that story to the players during the game sessions. Excited by the possibilities, I wrote dozens of plots, coming up with all kinds of cool things for the PCs to see and do.
I was enthralled with the real ultimate power that flowed from the Golden Rule of Gaming: the DM is always right. As DM, I had free reign to alter or ignore the rules as I needed in order to advance the plot. Dice rolls, stat blocks and such were only valuable inasmuch as they contribute to the story, and I was quite willing to fudge things when they would get in the way.
I thought that while it would be a serious breach of the social contract (I picked up the lingo quickly) for a Player to alter his character sheet or cheat on a die roll, this sort of thing was not only permitted for DMs, it was expected. This was confirmed by many sources.
Were there problems? Sure. How do you get the players to follow your plot without railroading them? Railroading, after all, was the cardinal sin of DMing, and I was determined to avoid it.
Two things helped me to avoid railroading: Plot Hooks, and False Choices.
Plot Hooks are things that you do to lure the PCs toward your plot. A hokey example would be the old man in the tavern who gives the PCs a quest. (No serious DM uses that one anymore). Other hooks (all of which I've used) include an ambush, transportation breaking down, running out of food or fuel, having something important to the PCs stolen, having someone important to the PCs killed or kidnapped, having "the law" chase the PCs, and imminent destruction of the PCs hometown/country/world.
But it was the False Choice that I thought was the ultimate DM tool. In my mind, a campaign could be pictured as a flow chart where each box had two or three different lines that all led to the next box.
It was easy. Say that the plot involves the search for pieces of a map that have been torn up and distributed throughout the world. One of these map pieces is in the possession of an NPC named Valthrun the Prescient.
Now a dull or uncreative DM might arrange it so that the only way to get the map piece would be to fight and kill Valthrun. I, however, being neither dull nor uncreative, would think up many creative ways in which the PCs could obtain the map piece. They might fight him for it, obtain it through fraud, pickpocket him, buy it from him, convince him to give it to them freely, charm him, or come up with something entirely new. I was fully prepared to improvise the encounter.
Better yet was the False Choice that doesn't tip your hand as to what you want the players to accomplish. Say you want the PCs to meet a really cool NPC named Valthrun who will advance the Story. Offer them several plot hooks, like being hired to go fight some orcs, or to go hunt down an escaped prisoner, or to escort a caravan. It doesn't matter which one they choose. If they go to fight the orcs, they will rescue Valthrun from being sacrificed by the orcs at the last minute. If they go hunt down the escaped prisoner, that prisoner will be Valthrun. If they escort the caravan, Valthrun will be traveling that way as well.
I saw myself as a Storyteller. My goal was to entice the PCs with Plot Hooks so that they could experience my Story through the illusion of False Choices.
It seems very difficult to prepare an adventure that does not use this style. I've yet to see a published module that did not seem to implicitly or even explicitly assume that I would use this style of DMing.
Preserving a sense of illusion is the key. When it’s mostly smoke and mirrors behind the screen, you better make sure those smoke and mirrors are really convincing. If you can convince your players that the really cool plot is a result of their choices, they will leave the game satisfied.
To that end, it is important to maintain the mystique of DMing. I spoiled too many of my early sessions by confiding in my players afterward, explaining exactly how I had improvised to make sure the plot would occur no matter what choices they made.
It’s kind of like being a magician. Never tell the audience how they were fooled.
The Lawful Good Dungeon Master
The Good Dungeon Master
The Evil Dungeon Master
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
False Messiahs
I found this plot hook posted by Narf the Mouse on theRPGsite's forum:
"Here's the deal: This backwoods bunch with a pocket kingdom have some prophecies they all believe in, about these 'Destined Heroes' that are going to 'Save the kingdom, and maybe the world', from some sort of 'Coming darkness'. Now, thing is, you folks all look pretty much like the prophecies say, except you're missing one. Fortunately, I know a guy who fits the other description.
So, here's the deal: I figure we can run a nice little scam for a while. Who's in?"
This hook is made of win. I will most likely use it as my next campaign pitch.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Killing Minions with Style
At Will, in a post about the length of 4e combat, touched on handing control of minion deaths over to the PCs.
I’ve been trying to introduce dramatic descriptions in the combat encounters that I DM. During my last game, we had an exchange that went something like this:
DM Describes Result
PC: I’ll charge out of hiding and attack the guard.
DM (me): Ok, move up to him and make an attack roll.
PC: I got a 23.
DM: That’s a hit. The guard is caught by surprise. You quickly run up behind him, and run him through. He looks down with surprise to see the point of your longsword come through his chest. As you withdraw the blade, he falls to the ground, dead. (He was a minion).
PC: Cool.
Not too bad. However, I really want to encourage the players to describe their own actions, so they can control the “flavor” of their attacks. I think that the big obstacle to such narrative description is that the player doesn’t know whether he’s hit or not until after he’s made his attack roll. If I ask him to describe what his attack is before the roll, he can only describe what he hopes to do. It might look something like this:
PC Describes Attempt, DM Describes Result
PC: I want to run up to him and try to stab him from behind through the chest, so that he doesn’t even know I’m there until he looks down and sees the point of my longsword.
DM: Ok, gimme a roll.
PC: 15. Does that hit?
DM: Sorry, no. You run up to him, but he hears you coming, and manages to dodge out of the way at the last moment.
This is an ok way to do it, as it splits the description between me and the PC. However, the description the PC gives of his attempt will have to be constantly corrected by my description of the actual result of the attempt. The PC may get frustrated as his cool descriptions keep getting tossed aside.
I thought of another option: I could ask the player to make the attack roll first. If it hits, I tell him that it hits, and let him describe the success. If it misses, I describe the failure.
PC Describes Success, DM Describes Failure
PC: I want to use Cleave.
DM: Ok, gimme a roll.
PC: 17 to hit, 9 on the damage roll.
DM: Ok, that’s a hit, and it’s enough to kill him, how much damage does the cleave do to the adjacent guy?
PC: 3.
DM: Ok. The adjacent guy is still alive.
PC: Cool.
DM: You can describe the attacks now.
PC: Oh yeah… um, I chop the first one’s head off, then slice the other in the arm.
It sounds like a good idea, letting the dice decide who gets to describe the result. Very Forge-y. However, it doesn't seem like it will work very well. The problem is that I first have to tell the player what the result is in mechanical terms, then he describes what happens back to me.
As a result there is nothing informative about the player's narrative. Everyone at the table already knows what happened, and has maybe already pictured what happened in their own minds. The description is just an afterthought.
What was so cool about the first technique... letting the DM describe the result... is that I conveyed the mechanical effect (your roll was higher than the AC, and dealt enough damage to kill the monster) in narrative language. There was a reason to pay attention to the description I gave.
Here's my new idea. When it's a minion, I'm going to tell the player the AC, let him make the roll, then let him describe what happens. He's the first one to know the result, and there is a reason for both me and everyone else to pay attention to his description:
Player Describes Result
PC: I'm going to attack that guy.
DM: Ok, he's a minion with an AC of 15.
PC: (rolls) I decapitate him with my longsword.
DM: Cool.
It would be trickier to do this with non-minions, since they will sometimes have resistances, interrupts, reactions, or other things that you might not immediately reveal, and the player won't usually know whether his blow will result in death or just injury. With a minion, however, none of these are likely to be an issue.
Have you ever done it this way before? What do you think of it?
I’ve been trying to introduce dramatic descriptions in the combat encounters that I DM. During my last game, we had an exchange that went something like this:
DM Describes Result
PC: I’ll charge out of hiding and attack the guard.
DM (me): Ok, move up to him and make an attack roll.
PC: I got a 23.
DM: That’s a hit. The guard is caught by surprise. You quickly run up behind him, and run him through. He looks down with surprise to see the point of your longsword come through his chest. As you withdraw the blade, he falls to the ground, dead. (He was a minion).
PC: Cool.
Not too bad. However, I really want to encourage the players to describe their own actions, so they can control the “flavor” of their attacks. I think that the big obstacle to such narrative description is that the player doesn’t know whether he’s hit or not until after he’s made his attack roll. If I ask him to describe what his attack is before the roll, he can only describe what he hopes to do. It might look something like this:
PC Describes Attempt, DM Describes Result
PC: I want to run up to him and try to stab him from behind through the chest, so that he doesn’t even know I’m there until he looks down and sees the point of my longsword.
DM: Ok, gimme a roll.
PC: 15. Does that hit?
DM: Sorry, no. You run up to him, but he hears you coming, and manages to dodge out of the way at the last moment.
This is an ok way to do it, as it splits the description between me and the PC. However, the description the PC gives of his attempt will have to be constantly corrected by my description of the actual result of the attempt. The PC may get frustrated as his cool descriptions keep getting tossed aside.
I thought of another option: I could ask the player to make the attack roll first. If it hits, I tell him that it hits, and let him describe the success. If it misses, I describe the failure.
PC Describes Success, DM Describes Failure
PC: I want to use Cleave.
DM: Ok, gimme a roll.
PC: 17 to hit, 9 on the damage roll.
DM: Ok, that’s a hit, and it’s enough to kill him, how much damage does the cleave do to the adjacent guy?
PC: 3.
DM: Ok. The adjacent guy is still alive.
PC: Cool.
DM: You can describe the attacks now.
PC: Oh yeah… um, I chop the first one’s head off, then slice the other in the arm.
It sounds like a good idea, letting the dice decide who gets to describe the result. Very Forge-y. However, it doesn't seem like it will work very well. The problem is that I first have to tell the player what the result is in mechanical terms, then he describes what happens back to me.
As a result there is nothing informative about the player's narrative. Everyone at the table already knows what happened, and has maybe already pictured what happened in their own minds. The description is just an afterthought.
What was so cool about the first technique... letting the DM describe the result... is that I conveyed the mechanical effect (your roll was higher than the AC, and dealt enough damage to kill the monster) in narrative language. There was a reason to pay attention to the description I gave.
Here's my new idea. When it's a minion, I'm going to tell the player the AC, let him make the roll, then let him describe what happens. He's the first one to know the result, and there is a reason for both me and everyone else to pay attention to his description:
Player Describes Result
PC: I'm going to attack that guy.
DM: Ok, he's a minion with an AC of 15.
PC: (rolls) I decapitate him with my longsword.
DM: Cool.
It would be trickier to do this with non-minions, since they will sometimes have resistances, interrupts, reactions, or other things that you might not immediately reveal, and the player won't usually know whether his blow will result in death or just injury. With a minion, however, none of these are likely to be an issue.
Have you ever done it this way before? What do you think of it?
Monday, September 8, 2008
4e Alignment: Lawful Good is the Best
I've been thinking a lot about alignment, what with all the discussion lately. While I was initially annoyed with the 4e alignments ("will the missing alignments appear in future supplements?"), they've started to grow on me.
Check out A Deontological Alignment System by on Turtles All the Way Down.
It's a well known and indisputable fact that the best Fantasy is from a Christian perspective (Lord of the Rings, Chronicles of Narnia), and that when Fantasy strays too far from those roots it is generally utter rubbish (Harry Potter, The Origin of Species).
That ought to get me some comments.
So anyways, when you look at good and evil as described in the Bible, it's pretty clear that Law is inexorably intertwined with Good. To be good means to be obedient to God. To be evil means to be rebellious. God's Law is the measuring stick. See Romans Chapters 1-4.
From this perspective, saying "he is a good man" is much more like saying "he is a married man" than it is like saying "he is a tall man." The word “good” does not describe some characteristic inherent in the man, but rather a relationship that the man has with someone else. A man cannot be good “on his own” or “by himself,” any more than he can be married “on his own” or “by himself.” Being “good” means being in a relationship, and necessarily requires a second person.
Specifically, being good means being in an obedient relationship with a legitimate authority. God is the ultimate authority, but He also delegates his authority to various people and institutions, such as giving Parents authority over their Children. When you rebel against a legitimate authority, you sin.
This fits the 4e alignment system pretty well, so long as you adjust your understanding of Law and Chaos. Under the 3.5 system, Law was associated with orderliness, control, planning, and predictability. It was not merely morally neutral, but was altogether disconnected from Good and Evil. Likewise, Chaos meant something like disorganization, freedom, entropy, and randomness, and could be Good, Evil, or neither.
If "Lawful" is now given my proposed definition, it is no longer morally neutral. It describes the most perfect form of Good. Lawful Good is, as many have already said, a sort of "Super Good." On the other hand, Chaotic Evil is the very worst subset of Evil, because it goes the farthest in it's open rebellion against Law.
Thus, it seems apparent that the word "Law" cannot be tossed about frivolously. There are a great deal of things we might commonly call "laws" that are in fact not. The local Duke might make a "law" declaring that nobody may spit from the battlements of his castle. However, this is not a "Law" in the ultimate, "obey or violate your alignment" sense. It's certainly a rule, a regulation, an ordinance, but it is not a "Law."
Of course, the Duke might have received legitimate authority to command you. For example, if you have sworn an oath to your god to serve the Duke, you may be obliged to obey his rule against spitting to remain Lawful Good. However, the rule against spitting would not be the "Law" you are following. Rather, you would be remaining in an obedient relationship with your god by obeying the commandment of the Duke.
But Law is not morally blind. If the Duke makes a law outside of his authority, like a law requiring that everyone worship him, you would not violate your alignment by disobeying. Such a rule would be illegitimate if it contradicts the true Law of your god, and the Lawful Good thing to do would be to disobey it.
Thus, it is apparent that even the most devoted and obedient followers of Evil gods can never be Lawful. What they call "laws" are undeserving of the name. Evil gods are not legitimate authorities, and cannot be the source of true Law. Those obedient to them do not act Lawfully, they act Slavishly.
Chaotic Evil speaks for itself.
And what of the "Good" alignment? See Romans 2:14-15. Crude theories of Good apart from Lawfulness (like "maximizing utility") are never quite enough, since those who try to follow them while depending on their own limited senses will never be able to consistently reach the right decision. However, in many circumstances the Good thing to do is obvious enough, and even a Good thing done for the wrong reason is better than an Evil thing. The "Good" alignment is a catch all for those who obey the letter of the law (right action), but don't have the spirit of it (right relationship).
Check out A Deontological Alignment System by on Turtles All the Way Down.
It's a well known and indisputable fact that the best Fantasy is from a Christian perspective (Lord of the Rings, Chronicles of Narnia), and that when Fantasy strays too far from those roots it is generally utter rubbish (Harry Potter, The Origin of Species).
That ought to get me some comments.
So anyways, when you look at good and evil as described in the Bible, it's pretty clear that Law is inexorably intertwined with Good. To be good means to be obedient to God. To be evil means to be rebellious. God's Law is the measuring stick. See Romans Chapters 1-4.
From this perspective, saying "he is a good man" is much more like saying "he is a married man" than it is like saying "he is a tall man." The word “good” does not describe some characteristic inherent in the man, but rather a relationship that the man has with someone else. A man cannot be good “on his own” or “by himself,” any more than he can be married “on his own” or “by himself.” Being “good” means being in a relationship, and necessarily requires a second person.
Specifically, being good means being in an obedient relationship with a legitimate authority. God is the ultimate authority, but He also delegates his authority to various people and institutions, such as giving Parents authority over their Children. When you rebel against a legitimate authority, you sin.
This fits the 4e alignment system pretty well, so long as you adjust your understanding of Law and Chaos. Under the 3.5 system, Law was associated with orderliness, control, planning, and predictability. It was not merely morally neutral, but was altogether disconnected from Good and Evil. Likewise, Chaos meant something like disorganization, freedom, entropy, and randomness, and could be Good, Evil, or neither.
If "Lawful" is now given my proposed definition, it is no longer morally neutral. It describes the most perfect form of Good. Lawful Good is, as many have already said, a sort of "Super Good." On the other hand, Chaotic Evil is the very worst subset of Evil, because it goes the farthest in it's open rebellion against Law.
Thus, it seems apparent that the word "Law" cannot be tossed about frivolously. There are a great deal of things we might commonly call "laws" that are in fact not. The local Duke might make a "law" declaring that nobody may spit from the battlements of his castle. However, this is not a "Law" in the ultimate, "obey or violate your alignment" sense. It's certainly a rule, a regulation, an ordinance, but it is not a "Law."
Of course, the Duke might have received legitimate authority to command you. For example, if you have sworn an oath to your god to serve the Duke, you may be obliged to obey his rule against spitting to remain Lawful Good. However, the rule against spitting would not be the "Law" you are following. Rather, you would be remaining in an obedient relationship with your god by obeying the commandment of the Duke.
But Law is not morally blind. If the Duke makes a law outside of his authority, like a law requiring that everyone worship him, you would not violate your alignment by disobeying. Such a rule would be illegitimate if it contradicts the true Law of your god, and the Lawful Good thing to do would be to disobey it.
Thus, it is apparent that even the most devoted and obedient followers of Evil gods can never be Lawful. What they call "laws" are undeserving of the name. Evil gods are not legitimate authorities, and cannot be the source of true Law. Those obedient to them do not act Lawfully, they act Slavishly.
Chaotic Evil speaks for itself.
And what of the "Good" alignment? See Romans 2:14-15. Crude theories of Good apart from Lawfulness (like "maximizing utility") are never quite enough, since those who try to follow them while depending on their own limited senses will never be able to consistently reach the right decision. However, in many circumstances the Good thing to do is obvious enough, and even a Good thing done for the wrong reason is better than an Evil thing. The "Good" alignment is a catch all for those who obey the letter of the law (right action), but don't have the spirit of it (right relationship).
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