Sandbox gaming is currently my favorite style of Old School gaming. See RPG for a more general collection.
I just leafed through it and I liked what I saw! It makes me want to add an African-inspired section to my campaign right now.
I liked the art. The pieces fit together, had a unified style, made me want to play or meet those characters.
Remember, I didn’t read those 180 pages. But some of my impressions regarding the rules: standard six attributes but smaller modifiers: 3 → -2; 4–7 → -1; 14–17 → +1; 18 → +2. There are four cultures with half a page of background followed by a large number of interesting one-paragraph character backgrounds that grant you a number of skills. Skills go from 0–4. I’m not a big friend of skill systems, but it doesn’t bother me too much.
There are four classes: warriors (fighters) and three classes with magical abilities—griots (bards), marabouts (clerics) and ngangas (magic users).
The “fighters” have access to a very simple feat system. I’m no friend of the feats in D&D 3.5 or Adventure Conqueror King, but this system here only takes a single page and doesn’t constitute a feat tree and only concerns fighters. I think this works for me.
There are three kinds of “bard” songs (minor, great, ancient) and characters get access to the more powerful variants at 4th and at 7th level. I like the simplicity of the system. The effects of these songs persists for as long as they are being sung.
The “clerics” can invoke miracles (spells) from a variety of spheres. They are spontaneous casters with a certain number of miracles/day limit. Each sphere comes with a list of spells. Thus, by gaining access to more spheres they get more choice in spells. Their favorite sphere gets them a minor magical ability.
The power of “magic users” comes in the form of rituals and spells. Known rituals can be performed as long as the characters have the necessary time and resources (many cost money). Spells are “memorized” by creating little fetishes and “cast” by triggering them.
The various classes are an excellent demonstration of how to rewrite the standard descriptions to conjure up a different atmosphere and invoke the new setting.
There is a one-page quick reference after the rules section. Excellent idea.
There is a lot of material explaining how to run a sandbox campaign without just copying what he said in Red Tide and An Echo Resounding. Excellent!
Three pages on how to play—responsibility of players, responsibility of the referee, how to start the first session, this kind of stuff, short and succinct. Another three pages on typical pitfalls: how to use combat in your game, how to handle character death, how to handle investigative games, how to handle magic items, how to handle unfamiliarity with the setting. All of these are a great introduction to people unfamiliar with sandbox play, I think. Thinking back to my recent game mastering career and remembering the D&D 3.5 Dungeon Master Guide, I’d say that these pages here come with all the relevant advice that you need.
The domain game uses Might, Trouble and Treasure as the kingdom stats. In An Echo Resounding the three stats were Military, Social and Wealth. If you’re interested in a short overview of An Echo Resounding, check out my summary. The concepts are similar. These stats are used to resolve the kingdom turns. The game does not come with units, resources to build, mass combat and all the other things An Echo Resounding introduced.
As for creating adventures: the book comes with an empty map for a dungeon, a building, an estate, a shrine, a cave; it comes with tables for cults, magic user spells, non-player characters, cultures, names, adventure elements; domain game rules incl. building costs, henchmen, hirelings, magic items, treasures, monsters—all suitably themed! I think this is awesome. The book also comes with a lot of advice on how to go about creating adventures, how to think about the set (the place), the actors (denizens, non-player characters) and props (treasure, items), and how to put the three together. Skimming through this section, I found myself nodding along.
There is an index, which is something I appreciate. There’s also an annotated bibliography for fiction, history, mythology, religion and pictures. This should be useful for people like me with practically no experience with Africa.
All in all, I think this book would be an excellent book. With its 180 pages it looks much like a slightly expanded B/X D&D with an African theme. It has plenty of good advice and ideas for beginners and sandbox newbies. Personally, I think many games lack the succinct guidance a new referee needs. The D&D 3.5 DM’s guide didn’t have it. I don’t think my favorite variant of the game has it, either: Labyrinth Lord is quite bare bones. At the same time, Spears of Dawn is not simply a collection of house rules tacked onto B/X D&D. The infusion of the African setting into every paragraph and its strong focus on teaching the reader how to run a sandbox campaign sets it appart.

I highly recommend it. Then again, remember I haven’t read it in depth (and I probably won’t unless the campaign moves into an African direction).
What motivates a referee? I think positive feedback is a key element. I’m not just thinking of players thanking you for running the game or players saying that they like your style. What I really enjoy is players who get excited when they’re thinking of the next session, players who’re sad if they have to miss a session, players who tell other people about the funny things they did, the terrible things that happened. Player engagement is intoxicating, infectious.
DM Peter recently ended one of the campaigns I’m playing in, citing lack of player engagement. It’s a tricky subject: who is responsible for it, how do you measure it, how do you foster it? Here’s what has worked for me.
Alpha players are always at the forefront of everything. They edit the campaign wiki. They write a log. They never loose track of their character’s experience, wealth, equipment and encumbrance. Their characters have plans. Their characters have issues. If you get one or two of them, that’s great. I found that my games can take a lot of casual gamers, however. Not everybody needs to be an alpha players. Quiet people, hard working people, parents, people with little time between sessions are just as entertaining at the table. Realizing this has made it possible for me to enjoy more games. If I need more games to fill the time between sessions, I run more games or join more campaigns.
Session reports are a measurable by-product of our games. Long session reports that cast the events in a mythical light, provide more intimate glimpses of the characters, provide extra details and entertaining complications are great. There will always be players that don’t have the time to write such session reports and there will always be players that don’t have the time read such session reports. Preposterous, you might think. And yet, this thought will set you up for disappointment. If one person keeps a few notes on the back of their character sheet and can bring everybody back up to speed at the beginning of the next session, that works just as well. Realizing this, I have cut down on my session report writing. These days, I don’t write to entertain, I write to remember. A short list of events is all that is required. Now I no longer feel close to session writer burnout, I’m no longer disappointed by the disinterest of my fellow players.
Player contributions are an inspiration: I try to encourage players to contribute little elements to our fairly traditional game. Sometimes the personality traits of a player character turn out to be the personality traits of an entire culture. Sometimes the ambitions of a player can shape an arc of the campaign. Sometimes, however, none of the players seem to be willing to contribute anything other than playing their character. In this case, a referee might feel cornered into the role of the untiring entertainer, a thankless job of crafting adventures for unappreciative players. This can be deadly for a sandbox campaign. I have found two solutions to this problem in my campaign:
Addictive elements to game play. Yes, it’s mean. It’s called the variable ratio reinforcement schedule: a reinforcement schedule in which the number of responses necessary to produce reinforcement varies from trial to trial, according to Wikipedia. I feel that’s why unbalanced encounters are fun. There can be two or three sessions where practically no treasure is found and characters gain less than a hundred experience points each and other sessions where the major hoard is found and each character gets a thousand experience points or more. Knowing this puts some of them on edge. They want to make sure not to miss the one gold session that will pay off big time.
I hope these points help you adjust your expectations and help you increase player engagement in your campaigns.
Tags: RPG
Sandbox
advice
Keep It Short 
I backed his Spears of the Dawn with $8 on Kickstarter. I really like this part:
I started looking around the Sine Nomine website and noticed Other Dust. A post-apocalyptic old school game? I’m thinking Mutant Future and Gamma World. Have you tried it? I just read the review on Grognardia. I guess I could justify the $19.90 price tag for the PDF as a sort of donation for the free Stars Without Number.
Then again, when will I ever have the time to play all of it? And yet, I can’t shake the feeling that I’d love to have all his products as hardcovers in my bookshelf. 
Update: My review of Spears of the Dawn.
Tags: RPG
Old School
sandbox
Sine Nomine
Kevin Crawford 
Comments on 2012-10-11 Kevin Crawford
Completionist urge hitting hard again?
– Harald 2012-10-11 13:35 UTC
I read his Kickstarter write-up and in it he says there is a market for African based settings/adventures and this Kickstarter will prove it. I hate to tell Kevin Crawford this but if I do pledge some money it will be because this is a Kevin Crawford product, not because of the setting.
I love his work and nothing he has produced thus far has been bad, in fact, his products are above the norm.
– callin 2012-10-11 13:55 UTC
AlexSchroeder @Harald – indeed! 
@Callin – I’m not sure. After all, Nyambe for d20 was mentioned a lot back when it was new. Then again, I bought it and never played it. So perhaps that’s true for many of the others who bought it.
– AlexSchroeder 2012-10-11 14:54 UTC
I have Nyambe as well along with one of its sourcebooks. While I never ran it as written I did include parts of it in my 3E campaign. I am indeed a completionist. However, with this particular offering I am more drawn by the author than the actual setting.
– callin 2012-10-11 15:43 UTC
Recently, the question Whither the West Marches was asked over on the Hill Cantons blog. Interesting question!
To recap, a campaign using the West Marches model described on Ars Ludi had several interesting characteristics, as summarized on the Hill Cantons blog:
My Alder King campaign had started using D&D 3.5 using this model. Player characters advanced up to 9th level, some of them ending up with important positions in towns of the region. We played with a second generation of characters for a while and I still liked it. I no longer liked D&D 3.5, however, and so the campaign switched to the Solar System RPG. When that campaign ended, I started a campaign of Pendragon.
While it lasted, however, the Alder King campaign differed from the West Marches model mainly in that I had fewer players and that we had regular, scheduled sessions. These dates were set by me, not by the players. We had up to seven players at some points in time, but having all of them at the table was rare. In all that time, I felt that there was no regular plot, but I had inserted various modules I had bought here and there, so often the players might have felt that there was a regular plot.
Later, I started my campaign of the Five Winds. This time I have a group of eight players and there are almost always a few of them missing. Thus we’re doing fine with regular biweekly sessions and three to eight players each. The players are not scheduling sessions. In GM Florian’s campaign, same thing: players don’t schedule sessions. Instead, we have regular biweekly sessions. In DM Peter’s campaign, he announces his availability via mail and people sign up using Doodle. Again, that doesn’t feel like players actually scheduling sessions.
Thus, I think the key element I used from the West Marches model was sandbox play: exploring the wilderness, dungeon delving, no regular plot, players defined goals in game.
The Hill Cantons blog posts then goes on to say that the campaign also developed urban adventures. None of the four campaigns I mentioned did that. In my Five Winds campaign, for examples, the towns my players meet continue to be defined by three or four non-player characters and very little else. These characters provide quests, some evil doers or incompetents must be replaced every now and then. Town adventures make up at most a tenth of my campaign.
Similarly, sessions soon started to end outside of town—since I wasn’t running competing parties or at irregular schedules, this never was a problem. We just found lousy in-game excuses for missing or new characters in the party from session to session.
For a short while I was running two parties in the same starting town. It turned out that not ending every session in town wasn’t much of a problem. Flexible time keeping turned out to be the answer: whenever characters return to town, advance the time up to the point where the other party is.
In fact, the current Five Winds campaign soon moved to a travel based campaign: the party moved east, looking for one of the big cities of the campaign world, the city housing the school of chromatic wizards. They keep getting sidetracked by pirates, barrow mazes and the like…
Tags: RPG
Old School
Sandbox 
I was reading Jim’s Threat Level and Masturbatory Dice Rolling which reminded me of something I once said to my players: “It’s called Dungeons and Dragons, not wanking with Alex.”
Back then I didn’t quite understand that we were having a systemic problem. I was running a D&D 3.5 game and these two players didn’t enjoy the threat level I usually enjoy. I’d rather die at the hands of a tough referee than live under the benevolent smile of a merciful game master.
This is the comment I left on Jim’s post, slightly edited:
I think the attitude that the game master is responsible for the players having fun at the table arose out of the fact that with newer editions of the game, the mechanical aspects of prep started to build up, and at the same time modules ended up very linear, and even if they were not obviously linear (like Red Hand of Doom) then the significant power increase from level to level and thus the increased difficulty of swerving off the planned track all led dungeon masters like me to believe that we were responsible for providing the right threat level.
It took some exposure to dungeon design, sandbox design, a return to threat levels chosen by players based on conventions (dungeon level) or information provided by the referee (rumors for the wilderness) before I understood that I could leave the decision about the threat level of the session up to the players. What a relief it was! Looking back, the technique is simple: increase player agency!
The games I like to run these days are easier to prepare for, they are easier to run, and thus all I need to remember is to provide adequate information the the players regarding the threat levels of locations or events. This will allow my players to pick the threat level they feel comfortable with – and I hope that these days I no longer feel tempted to insult my players.
Tags: RPG
Old School
Sandbox 
On Google+, Jeff Rients recently wondered whether he was feeling dissatisfaction with his hexcrawl procedure. I’m interested in comparing notes. How do you run wilderness exploration?
When I read procedures like the ones Justin Alexander recently posted on his blog, I realize that my own procedures are super simple in comparison.
Here are the basics:
With this in place, players will usually learn about a new location from NPCs, decide to travel there, have one or two random encounters on the way providing side-quests, other plot-hooks and adding to the wilderness. After exploring the dungeon or doing whatever needs doing, the party will travel back, sometimes picking a different path for their way back in order to learn something about the area they’re in.
Thus the actual procedure at the gaming table is simple:

That’s it.
If your procedure is more complicated, I’d love to know what you do and why you do it. Maybe it’s something I could add to my own procedure! 
Tags: RPG
Old School
Sandbox 
Comments on 2012-06-20 Hexcrawl Procedure
Gavin Personally I’ve not done any proper hex crawl style adventures since I was a kid, so I don’t have a procedure of my own.
I did notice this though: “When player characters enter a hex searching for a particular structure they will always find it.”
This is how I’m leaning towards handling secret doors these days. Players rarely search for them, and I feel it’s nice to reward it if they happen to look in the right place, whether by chance or by deduction.
– Gavin 2012-06-21 21:52 UTC
AlexSchroeder That’s my approach to all thieving skills, bard skills, knowledge skills or whatever you want to call them. Unless there’s a very good reason to roll dice, I’d rather the characters know something or find something.
If you don’t run hex crawls, how does travel work in your campaigns? Is there a map with all the known locations on it, players point at their intended destinations and say “we go there” and you respond with “two weeks later, you finally reach the elven palace of Mirkwood?” Or do you have an abstract flow-chart like map that involves other locations to pass through—and potential encounters?
– AlexSchroeder 2012-06-21 22:00 UTC
Gavin Well, the LL games I’ve run the last couple of years have involved very little overland travel – they were mostly centred around a huge city and a few surround areas. So, yeah, the few times the PCs went between places on a larger scale I just told them how long it took to get there and that was that.
– Gavin 2012-06-22 17:57 UTC
As Claytonian JP and others said on Google+, humans can walk much further than five miles per day. Based on the d20 SRD Terrain and Overland Movement tables and the rumors you find on Google (such as the thread How far could the legions travel in a day where you’ll find people saying “the carolean army under normal circumstances marched between 20 and 30 kilometers a day with a days rest every other day, and they used the same means of transportation” ie. 6 to 10 miles per day or “Tacitus (or was it Iosephus Flavius? - I’m far away from my books) wrote, that the standard distance for a legionaire was 20,000 steps/day, […] the Roman pace or passus was 2 steps, total length of about 5 feet. Hence the mile is from millia passus or 1000 paces, 5000 feet” ie. 20 miles (on a Roman road).
As I said in the original post, however, it seems to me that the exact distances covered aren’t really necessary at the table. A day’s march is a day’s march and only the most basic logic needs to apply: how big of a detour would you take around a swamp of trackless forest? Will you save any time by not following the road? How much faster will you be by ship? How many hexes do you need to settle in order to build a castle?
– AlexSchroeder 2012-07-13 15:23 UTC
Justin Alexander There are a couple things I notice from your procedure:
(1) By using invariant movement rates, you are removing one of the major incentives my players have for investing in horses. I’ve found that horses can make for a lot of interesting gameplay ranging from the common (the security precautions necessary to make sure they don’t get eaten while waiting outside the dungeon) to the unique (over the past couple sessions I’ve had one player invest in a scheme by the Halfling Mafia run by another group of players to use illusion magic to disguise nags as high quality horses, which resulted in an entertaining sequence resulting from random tables in which a third player ended up buying three nags in a row from the same horse dealers)
In short, interesting trade-offs of encumbrance, expense, and logistics that I’ve found have interesting impacts on practical gameplay and interesting story outcomes.
(2) By limiting the number of potential encounters per day you are affecting the strategic/tactical balance of wilderness vs. dungeon gameplay. Probably not a big deal, but something to think about.
I make four checks per day, with cumulative odds of roughly ⅛, ⅛, ¹⁄₃₂, ¹⁄₃₂, ¹⁄₃₂, and ¹⁄₃₂. This totals a 38% chance of at least one encounter per day, which is not disparate from the 33% your ⅙ and ⅙ checks have. But I have a significantly higher chance of generating multiple encounters per day.
(None of which is to say “you’re wrong!”. I’m just answering your question about why I do things differently.)
@AlexSchroeder: I find the hexcrawl to be useful if exploration is the name of the game. If exploration isn’t the name of the game, then there’s generally a reliable map available that the PCs can base their travel plans on. This either takes the form of them planning their intended journey which I then prep with appropriate stops and scenery (either in detail or “montage”). Or it takes the form of a “flowchart” of decisions, although these are rarely preplanned.
Another way to look at it: If the game is structured around making a map, then I use a hexcrawl. If the game is about using a map, then I do travel montages or travel decision-points.
– Justin Alexander 2012-07-14 21:08 UTC
AlexSchroeder Thanks for the comment, Justin.
Indeed, horses are a topic that I’ve been most frustrated with as a teenager playing AD&D 2nd ed and one or two years ago when I wanted to play a mounted archer using D&D 3.5. Taking care of horses always seemed like a chore. I’d be interested in giving it another try.
Currently, horses haven’t come up much. I guess this is due to two reasons:
Apparently horses are only faster if you can change them every so often and this is how the old communication networks did it: have manned stations along the roads where couriers can get fresh horses.
You are absolutely right regarding the number of encounters per day. The only fix I have is this: I roll for a few consecutive days of exploration and combine the results as I see fit. This mostly applies not when exploring the wilderness but when travelling from town to town or from town to dungeon and back.
Perhaps adding a simple additional step to my rule provides a similar result: Just roll for an additional random encounter whenever there is one? Keep rolling until there is no additional random encounter.
Interesting that you make a distinction between making and using a map when travelling. I confess I used travel montages exclusively when I ran adventure paths or just strung modules together. As soon as I started running my sandbox, however, I’ve used my hexcrawl procedure to cover all travel.
I guess I would not use my hexcrawl procedure if the party was moving through an area that was 100% safe. I’m not sure such an area exists in the Wilderlands of High Fantasy. I suspect it does not.
Perhaps I’ll change my approach if my players are getting tired of the constant stream of random stuff they meet on the road. This is something I’ve done in my D&D 3.5 game once the party reached level eight and nine: I just described how they sometimes saw orcs or lizardfolk patrols fleeing them and skipped random encounters unless they were moving through areas controlled by giants, dragons or vampires. Absolutely something to consider if my current campaign ever makes it to the mid levels.
– AlexSchroeder 2012-07-14 23:07 UTC
Over on Hack & Slash, -C wrote a blog post called On How an Illusion Can Rob Your Game of Fun that reads like a manifesto. It belongs to a whole cross blog conversation that I haven’t really read up on. Maybe I will.
Basically, -C is ranting against a «quantum ogre» – a mythical encounter that happens no matter what. -C ends the blog post with the following:
In the comments, some people argue that the quantum ogre isn’t so bad. I disagree. Here’s why. The quantum ogre is only bad if the players have information that ought to help them evade it and they cannot. But in addition to that, having to make a choice without any information is also bad. Thus, we’re talking about two bad things.
An adventure involving the quantum ogre is bad because the players’ choices don’t matter: either they don’t have enough info to make a meaningful choice or the information they have is useless since the quantum ogre will show up no matter what they do. They have no agency – they have no capacity “to make choices and to impose those choices on the world.” Either they cannot make a meaningful choice because they lack information, or they cannot impose their choice on the world because the quantum ogre shows up anyway.
Update: A comment by Trey on the «On How an Illusion Can Rob Your Game of Fun» blog post wanted to know about the differences between a single quantum ogre encounter and the use of random encounters. Both of them remove player agency and yet the sandbox proponents don’t decry random encounters. Why not?
I think there is a way to improve random encounters because the quantum ogre and random encounters exist in a continuum.
(The following assumes that players have some sort of information allowing them to make meaningful choices.)
The quantum oger is at the one end. No matter which way you turn, the oger encounter happens. Next to it, we find random encounter tables. No matter which way you turn, eventually you will meet an item from my precious list. Next to that, we find differing random encounter tables depending on the surrounding areas. No matter which way you turn, eventually you will meet an item from one of the appropriate regional lists. Finally, the last alternative I can think of is having no random encounters and only lairs placed on the map. No matter which way you turn, you will meet the appropriate item for this hex on my precious map.
What I’m trying to do is increase player agency:
I’m sure there are more variations. For my own games, I try do #3 and #4. Players get to pick the important encounters by choosing to explore the mountains where they need to fight a frost giant (#4). In addition to that, there are rumors about a white dragons (also #4 with partial information). What players don’t know is that the icy glacier environment also supports winter wolves (#3). In addition, the trolls are on a war path and thus I have added them to the random encounter list (this starts out as #2 but eventually moves to #3 as players learn about current events in the sandbox). This creates meaningful choices: If players don’t feel like fighting frost giants and white dragons, they can avoid the area.
Thus, I agree with Trey’s comment. Simply having a random encounter list is only marginally better than having a quantum ogre. Basically you’re just having more of them. The key is introducing ways for players to make meaningful choices and have those choices make a difference.
Update: Courtney has written more articles in his series on player agency. I recommend them all. 
Update: More recommended articles I found by following links:
Comments on 2011-09-08 Player Agency
lior I do not think that random encounters reduce the player agency. Hence they are not to be compared to the Quantum Ogre.
The trouble with the Quantum Ogre is not that the GM decided to make it a Quantum Ogre and not a Quantum Leprechaun. It’s that no matter what the players do before meeting the Ogre, they will still bump into that particular situation. Because the GM decided beforehand that there will be a Quantum X she has to force the fiction toward the Quantum Moment in one way or another. That is where the reduction of player agency comes from. Put differently: Its not that the “Ogre” in “Quantum Ogre” was decided by the GM that is the problem, its the “Quantum” part.
If the “Ogre” was the problem, then only the players would be allowed to decide on what is waiting behind the next bend, since both a GM and the dice would be an infringement on their agency. Archipelago all over again!
When you put together a random encounter list for an area, all you say is that some things that you think might be interesting are likely to happen. You as the GM are allowed to make decisions as well (not just the players) and somebody has to do it at some point. By design, you have no means to steer toward one encounter or the other and hence you have no reason to infringe on player agency.
The important part is to make the encounters in such a way that they add interesting options for the player and not each be a Mini Quantum Moment. So “3d4 Orcs attack the party in a night raid” is infringing, “You encounter 4d6+4 Orcs playing rugby with a severed troll head” is not.
Also note that agency is not nonnegotiable. As a player I am absolutely in favor of being forced into situations by the GM, as long as they are interesting and fit the character of the fiction at that particular moment. Last Monday you had the Judge point the finger at my Midwife. I got arrested because of that, a clear infringement of my agency. But I liked that because it made the story more interesting and while my options were reduced it was instantly clear that deciding and carrying out my remaining options got so much more important. So if agency = sum (importance of each option) then you reduced the number of options but raised the importance of the remaining ones. A fair deal!
– lior 2011-09-09 13:16 UTC
Adrian Honestly, I don’t think region-based random encounters are that much better than the single list. I see that you can influence what types of encounters you might face, and thus avoid certain ones, but it seems like you still get stuck fighting random bags of hit points. I think the big thing that would differentiate random encounters from the quantum ogre is that the players have ways of affecting random encounter frequency. Are there things that they can choose to do that can decrease (or increase) the likelihood of a random encounter, or better yet, certain types of random encounters?
– Adrian 2011-09-09 14:59 UTC
AlexSchroeder I think I agree. If the creatures encountered will always fight, then there is not much choice involved except whether to run or not to run. Being able to avoid encounters, being able to talk your way through encounters, being able to learn from them – these are ways to empower players. More choices.
As to reducing the encounter frequency, I think we need to make sure that the “ways of affecting random encounter frequency” players have involve meaningful choice. I’d propose asking “what’s the trade-off?” If there is no trade-off, then reducing the frequency is always the better choice. Two examples off the top of my head: In a D&D 3 or D&D 4 game, you could say “I made the choice of investing in Survival skills and therefore I should be able to reduce the encounter frequency”. In a classic D&D game you could argue that traveling at half speed is an appropriate trade-off. Either option would work for me, but I have the nagging suspicion that these choices are not too interesting. I’d rather have more encounters, more talking, more fighting, more running, more learning.
I like doing things to affect the types of random encounters. Usually my random encounter tables have different entries for night and day. The example I provided in my GM Style Manual looks as follows:
In the following example, merchants and soldiers are only encountered during the day. At night, add +2 to your roll. Thus, kuo-to a and slaadi are only encountered during the night.
d6 Encounter ░ 1 ░ merchants (1d6) ░ 2 ░ soldiers (1d6+3) ▒ 3 ▒ gnomes (1d6+2) ▒ 4 ▒ giant frogs (1d4) ▒ 5 ▒ froglings (2d6) ▒ 6 ▒ roll twice: fight! ▓ 7 ▓ kuo-toa (2d6) ▓ 8 ▓ slaadi (1d4)
Now that I think about it, I’ve been doing it wrong all this time: I’d roll for day and night encounters all the time irrespective of whether the party was traveling by night or day since travel from hex to hex takes a day and most hexes are wilderness. Thus, there is never a “safe” place to sleep and therefore I thought that I should roll for both day and night encounters. This adds a little bit of simulation, but it also makes player choice irrelevant! I think from now on I will only roll for wilderness encounters if the party actually travels. Thus traveling by day results in different encounters than traveling by night. Staying put results in no encounters.
– AlexSchroeder 2011-09-09 16:15 UTC
Adrian I was imagining choices like this (using your night encounter example):
Let me give another example:
I agree there needs to be a trade-off. Perhaps moving more slowly reduces the chance of a random encounter, or the chance of certain kinds of random encounters (maybe with the less alert creatures on your list), but because you move more slowly you are just out in the wilderness longer, and thus roll on the table more times. Or you use more supplies (but maybe you do not care about that type of book keeping).
Maybe this is making your random encounter system too complicated. And, maybe, if the players do not realize that these adjustments are happening in some way, they will not see their choice is making a difference. Would you at least tell them some of the details of what they gain or give up taking a certain action?
– Adrian 2011-09-10 14:25 UTC
AlexSchroeder The only thing I ever did was the following:
In a classic D&D campaign without Survival skill, this is harder to implement. Then again, there’s no need to “reward” players for their choices made during character creation.
The examples you provided make sense, but they are complicated. I fear I’d have to look them up during the session. “Ok, one day later – let me check my house rule – uhm… <roll> <roll> …” And I fear you’re right in that depending on the numbers chosen, players have very little ability to influence their chances. Making the roll and public and announcing the modifiers – or having one of the players roll – would be a good way to inform players and to keep them engaged.
I might try the following, though.
– AlexSchroeder 2011-09-10 22:15 UTC
AlexSchroeder I read a blog post where the author tried to refute the quantum ogre argument. (I tried to post this comment over there but apparently it triggered some anti-spam measures.) It seems to me that the author’s refutation of the quantum ogre argument rests on the assumption that palette shifting is only recognizable as such when it is observed. Thus, if it cannot be observed, a fun encounter with an ogre happens without players feeling robbed of their agency.
This is true. But when I read the Hack & Slash post, I felt there was an additional point to be made: I’d have more fun learning something about the surrounding area and the whereabouts of ogres and then deciding for myself whether I wanted to engage it or not – even if the encounter with the ogre itself is very entertaining. That, I feel, is empowering. That, I feel, makes me aware of the fact that I'm not being railroaded. My choice matters.
Railroading happens when players can only choose to go forward and meet the ogre. This can be very entertaining none the less because the encounter with the ogre has the potential of great fun being had by all.
Being able to make a random choice without information to base it on and then meeting the ogre anyway is just as good. Players have the illusion of choice and encounter the ogre. The encounter with the ogre has the potential of great fun being had by all. But as a player, I can’t tell whether I’ve been railroaded. I made some choice and somehow I ended up in an encounter with an ogre. I don’t know how to feel about that.
Awesome player agency happens if players learn that ogres are in one direction and no ogres are in the other direction. Then they can choose to encounter the ogre, or they can choose to go the other way. Even though the encounter with the ogre has the potential of great fun being had by all, offering the choice promises an independent and different kind of joy to some players (like me).
– AlexSchroeder 2011-09-14 00:17 UTC
lior Minor Idea while (re)reading this. Instead of a random encounter table, use this:
“what’s happening here?”-table (d20)
1: Some orc hunters gutting the giant centipede they killed.
2: Wounded elven messenger caught in a bear trap since 1d4 days
3: A pack of gray wolves resting by a river, some dozing, some playing with their cubs
….
11: a ghoul just heading out from or returning to his lair under a nearby rock formation.
12: scared and lost kobold boy with a slightly less scared but equally lost kobold girl, hiding under some tree roots.
13: the camp of a band of young orc warriors out on a mission of revenge: guards, fires, tents, half-dead captives.
…
“who walks there”-table (d20)
1: A fugitive Kobold clan on the move with all their pathetic property strapped on their wiry backs
2: A orcish war band, in silent march, ever watchful for enemies
….
11: A pack of gray wolves out hunting, constantly sniffing for fresh scents
12: Tula, a beautiful ranger from the nearby enclave of Gheeve (yes, its just half an hour from here if you know how to find it..), looking for something very valuable and very secret she hid just about here somewhere a fortnight ago…
13: Ogmoazz, a young black dragon, flying overhead on his quest to find a suitable dwelling
14: Harr, Mhf and Ugh, three trolls, out marauding in the area with a vague hope to finally find and plunder the enclave of Gheeve
….
When the PCs are moving, roll both tables. When the PCs are camped, roll only “who walks there”. At evening and dawn, roll +5, at night roll +10.
When you get a result from one or both of the tables…
Two new things here (to me at least): That its two tables instead of one and that its “in the vicinity” events not concrete encounters. The tone I stole from Monday’s next game, the style of the content is stole from Vornheim.
– lior 2011-09-14 15:25 UTC
AlexSchroeder I like the list, Lior. 
Over at the post that started it all, Trey replied to my list of options to increase agency (no choice, single random encounter list, various regional lists, lairs on a map). He noticed that the first two points don’t seem all that different even though they feel different to me:
I finally found a good way to answer on page 3 of the Judging the Game blog post by Alexander Macris:
The inherent contradiction between omniscience and free will has plagued religion for thousands of years, and it plagues RPGs, too. For instance, imagine if tabletop RPG combat went like this:
- Player
- “I attack the dragon.”
- GM
- “Based on your attack bonus and the dragon’s armor class, if you attack, you are certain to miss.”
- Player
- “Uh… well I don’t attack, then.”
It’s hard to imagine that game being much fun because the result of the player’s choices is determined before he’s made them. (This is the same reason that Tic-Tac-Toe isn’t fun.) Agency, then, requires that we be able to predict the consequences of our choices, but not with certainty. D&D creates agency with its Core Mechanic: “To determine if your character success at a task, you roll a d20, add any relevant modifiers and compare the result to a target number. If the result equals or exceeds the target number, your character succeeds. If the result is lower, you fail.” The relevant modifiers and the target number provide causality. The d20 provides uncertainty. Both are essential.
I like this description very much. Using the regional lists I suggested or providing the “things that they can choose to do that can decrease (or increase) the likelihood of a random encounter” Adrian suggested seem to be appropriate solutions.
– AlexSchroeder 2011-09-14 15:37 UTC
lior Addition: “campsite”-table (d6):
(this style is heavily influenced by next Monday’s surprise game). Wilderness Vornheim is starting to take shape…
– lior 2011-09-14 15:51 UTC
AlexSchroeder I am looking forward to it! 
– AlexSchroeder 2011-09-14 16:13 UTC
lior Here’s me trying to understand that argument against random encounters and the importance of information:
Sheesh, I can finally put that discussion behind me! Sorry for spilling all this theory jabber on your blog… ignore at will.
– lior 2011-09-14 19:47 UTC
Kevin I think your last point essentially sums up this discussion quite well. Though admittedly I’m never willing to categorize any discussion complete and as a result I would amend the “Right to Dream” side of the argument in that random is allowable but must have a seed of reality (whatever that might mean in the game dream-space) in order to make it believable per se.
– Kevin 2011-09-14 21:31 UTC
One unfortunate aspect of the increased privacy Google+ offers is that by allowing you to share your posts with certain circles only many interesting posts end up being undiscoverable by new readers and hard to link to – I linked them below but if you haven’t seen them before, chances are you’re not in the circles of the the two respective authors and thus you will not be able to read them.
In You ate the sandbox, Stuart Robertson wonders how people run their Sandbox games. He argues that if you don’t have things set down before play begins – if you improvise everything – then the decisions players make don’t have significance.
In the comments there is a whole lot of debate on the wording: Does that make decisions by players meaningless? Is this really how improvisation works? I’m with Zak Smith, I guess. He says “That’s why in true sandboxes the GM gives the PCs information about what’s in what direction, and this information can be used to inform the PCs decisions and avoid railroading.” He linked to two excellent blog posts on his blog. One is a huge Ontology for sandboxes – it provides a shared vocabulary for anybody wanting to talk about sandboxes: Chokers And Chandlers. (I think my own games mostly fall into the “Sandbox With Triggerable NPCs or Plot Events” category.) Anyway, this is a super awesome post. Read it, if you want to write about sandboxes. Using the terms suggested by Zak will make it easier to understand for your readers.
The other article Zak linked to is Conan Knew More About Cimmeria Than Howard Did. The most important part of that blog post is that one of the techniques to make a sandbox entertaining is to emphasize the tension between two opposing ideas: the gameworld is defined as the players explore it and the players need information in order to make meaningful decisions about which way to go. There is a lot for players to explore, but there is also a lot of information that allows players to make meaningful decisions.
The other Google+ post that got me thinking was Authored role-playing and so-called "story games" by John Allder Stephens. He cites some conflicting definitions of Story Games. I liked Graham Walmsley’s comment, It's not meant to mean anything. It's just a label for "The games that people on the Forge and Story Games tend to like".
My impression is that most people seem to agree that there is no significance beyond a personal preference in the term. There is an interesting discussion in the comments comparing Story Now and Story After. Story Now is where the story happens right now, at the table. Play focuses on conflicts that would make a good story. Random encounters are a hindrance to the story unless they are immediately relevant to the character’s struggles. Story After is where events happen at the table and as players look back, they see a story has emerged. People make decisions based on their character’s goals, based on the imagined world, and as they look back, what emerges is a tragic road to failure and death, or a heroic sacrifice, or victory over ones enemies, etc. The important part is that nobody planned this. It just so happened and surprised everybody. As Stuart Robertson says, “that’d be a fixed game!”
Here’s an example of how I see it. Assume the old school D&D party is encountering four dwarves in the wilderness – a random encounter. In a Story Now game, this only makes sense, if the dwarves are relevant to the characters and their issues. Is one of them a dwarf? A fugitive running away from his obligations? Are these scouts that are trying to return a rebel son to his father? In a Story After game, the dwarves may have totally unrelated goals. They’re here to set up a copper mine. This adds a potential mine to the map. Do the players want to help or hinder this endeavor? It’s just another plot hook. Looking back, players might say, remember those four dwarves and their copper mine? Funny how that made us visit the dwarven king in the western mountains and break the sleeping enchantment… Story emerges later.
I think I prefer Story After games. I feel they encourage perpetual play. The campaign grows and turns and creeps and tumbles forward, the world expands, characters come and go… A game that is focused on the drama of a particular set of characters and their issues is basically over when those issues are resolved. I guess I’ll see for myself soon enough as I’m switching my D&D 3.5 game to Solar System RPG where characters have keys and get experience points when they hit those keys. Perhaps characters can keep switching keys and the campaign has the potential of going on in perpetuity. My suspicion is, however, that once those keys are resolved the campaign will automatically begin coming to a close.
Comments on 2011-09-08 Interesting RPG posts on Google Plus
lior There are two things here that make me cringe. The first is that not only am I not in any of the Google+ circles, I have not even been invited to Google+ yet. That make me feel like I am missing out on some elite happening that I would actually want to take part in. In AD 2011 you might think Google could just open the service for public registration and be done with it. That was cringe number one.
Cringe number two: obviously people are misrepresenting some things in those semi-private discussions or at least they are cultivating an understanding that is completely at odds with how I see it. In a regular forum or a blog I could check out the discussion and maybe even comment on the subject if I don’t come too late. But like this I just have to take note that somebody somewhere led my GM to an understanding of “Story Now” and “Story After” that I think is just wrong…. Cringe and cringe again. [Those are some of the terms that were defined by Ron Edwards (as opposed to others which came up in and derive from online discussion threads) and in his usual manner he takes care to elaborately explain them. Too bad the style of his explanations puts many people off. But if you (not you in particular Alex) do use terms coined by him, why not look them up? For example here: http://spanishinquisitor.wordpress.com/2008/05/21/ron-edwards-part-2-of-3/]
Then again, I have been known to overreact…
– lior 2011-09-08 11:17 UTC
AlexSchroeder I don’t want to make you cringe… 
I read the first part of the interview and feel that my four dwarves example still fits. Maybe we can talk about it on one of those Mondays.
– AlexSchroeder 2011-09-08 11:49 UTC
Lior, I’m positive I sent you an invite ages ago …
– Harald 2011-09-08 20:55 UTC
Die Fischköpfe sind Sklaventreiber im Nordwesten. Die fliegenden Affen im Norden brauchten mal Hilfe gegen die Fischköpfe. Die Froschmänner im Nordosten wurden von den Soldaten des Zauberers nieder gemacht. Nördlich von dort steht der Orcus Tempel. Im Süden hat es Goldaugenkobolde, Schwarzklauenechsen, Satyre, eine Sumpfhexe, eine befreite Zwergenfeste, ein Zwergendorf mit Lammasu, eine Höhle mit Teufeln, eine versunkene Pyramide mit dem halb lebendigen Leichnam der Tiamat, einen Elfenturm mit Greifen, im Westen mehr Elfen, Hügelriesen, Trolle, unter dem Wald eine riesiger Leichnam eines Dämons, irgendwo hat es einen blauen, einen roten und einen weißen Drachen. Dahinter noch mehr Goblinstämme und so weiter.
Wohin man geht findet man mehr Völker, mehr Probleme, mehr Abenteuer. Gibt es einen Punkt, an dem es einfach zu viel wird? Meistens versuche ich die Liste der offenen Plots auf sieben zu beschränken. Wenn die Spieler aber das Risiko scheuen und alle Probleme offen lassen, was soll ich dann tun? Keine neuen Ideen bringen bis das alte Zeug gelöst wurde?
Ich glaube, dass im positiven Sinne viele “Fraktionen” einfach für eine lebendige Welt stehen. Die Spieler können wählen, wo sie sich einmischen, und dort auch wirklich etwas bewirken. Manchmal, wenn die Spieler zu chaotisch werden, kann auch eine der Fraktionen sehr stark werden, so dass man ein mittelfristiges Ziel hat. Nach zwei Jahren kam es so zur grossen Schlacht mit den Echsen. Im Moment sieht es so aus, wie wenn die Trolle wieder eine ähnliche Bedrohung werden. Reicht das, um die Aufmerksamkeit zu bündeln?
Im negativen kann das natürlich die Folge haben, dass die Spieler zuviele Töpfe am kochen haben – und keinen davon auslöffeln wollen (oder es keinen offensichtlichen und einfachen Weg gibt, so dass man lieber weiter wandert und neue Fraktionen und Abenteuer entdeckt).
Selber versuche ich im Moment die Spieler darin zu unterstützen, im Spiel zu bestimmen, wie sich alles weiter entwickelt. Werden die Feuerriesen mehrmals besucht, werden diese wichtiger. Werden die Kuo Toa ignoriert, werden sie unwichtiger (ausser ich brauche mal einen externen Feind, dann kann ich auf alle Elemente zurück greifen).
Von den aktuellen Spielern hat im Moment halt keiner ein starkes Charakterziel – vielleicht sollte ich mal eine Umfrage machen? Eigentlich eine gute Idee… mache ich gleich mal. 
Ein Spieler meinte dazu, dass mehr Fraktionen dazu führen, dass die Welt überbevölkert wirkt – insbesondere weil sich an den Konflikten nichts ändert, wen die Spieler nicht zugegen sind. Ich bin natürlich auch zu faul für eine Weltsimulation. Ich baue nur dort weiter, wo das Spiel auch stattfindet. Vielleicht sollte ich mich mal dazu durchringen, ein paar zukünftige Ereignisse zu notieren, damit sich die Welt auch ohne das Zutun der Gruppe ändert.
Comments on 2011-07-14 Fraktionen im Spiel
lior Bei einem Sandbox hat man im Prinzip ein flexibleres “Breadcrums++”-Verfahren. Der SL biete an, die Spieler entscheiden durch ihre wahl wie es weiter geht. Eine solche Arbeitsteilung funktioniert aber nur dann, wenn die Spieler wenigstens auf einige der Krümel, die der SL hinlegt auch tatsächlich nachhaltig reagieren.
Du könntest nun natürlich versuchen mehr oder weniger Factions einzuführen, oder die Factions mächtiger oder schwächer zu gestalten oder die Konflikte eher gewalttätiger oder eher intellektueller zu machen. Aber das wären IMO alles Versuche ein bestehendes Problem innerhalb der Fiktion zu lösen in dem du versuchst zu erraten was eigentlich suboptimal ist. Ich würde lieber versuchen die Probleme direkt anzusprechen, auch wenn das die übliche Konsument/Lieferant-Beziehung aufbricht.
Ich lese gerade Storming the Wizard's Tower, ein unfertiges Fantasy-System von Vincent Baker. Er legt grossen Wert darauf, dass die PCs von Anfang mit ihrem Heimatort zu verbinden. Die PCs beginnen immer schon als lokale Respektspersonen von denen sich die Menschen bei Problemen Abhilfe erwarten. Der GM soll dann die Herausforderungen direkt gegen den Heimatort und akut gestalten. Es geht also um die Schutzbefohlenen, das Problem ist dringend (und frisch) und es wird von niemand anderem gelöst werden und auch nicht von selbst verschwinden.
Das der GM aktiv die Spieler zu einem bestimmten Abenteuer zwingt widerspricht natürlich der Sandbox-Idee. Aber vielleicht könntest du die Spieler dazu verführen dir zu erzählen wofür ihre PCs kämpfen würden? Ich überlege gerade wie man das geschickt machen könnte…
zB: Jeder Spieler soll erzählen, wer im Ort seinem PC inzwischen wichtig geworden ist. Dass muss nicht ein Helfersyndrom sein. Es können auch Saufkumpane sein, oder die schöne Maid von Nebenan mit der man so gut flirten kann. Oder die Strassenköter… So machen die Spieler im Prinzip für dich SL ein inverses Sandbox. Du wählst dir dann von den Angebotenen Zielscheiben eines oder zwei aus und greifst diese direkt an.
Vielleicht um das obige noch etwas aufzulockern: Es kann auch jeder Spieler aufzählen, welche drei Dinge im Leben seinem PC am wichtigsten sind. Dann können auch Dinge kommen wie “Meine Ehre”, “Die Narrenfreiheit”, “Die Erinnerung an meine verlorene Familie”. Natürlich sind auch hier die Saufkumpane ein legitimer Punkt.
Wichtig wäre mir, dass die Bringschuld nicht alleine auf Seiten des SL liegt. Umgekehrt sollte sie nach meinem Geschmack auch nicht nur beim Spieler liegen (so wie wir es bei BW in Arcagio versucht hatten). Es soll ein Wechselspiel aus Signalen und Reaktionen sein: Spieler signalisieren mit Flags ihre Interessen; der SL reagiert darauf, bietet wiederum unterschiedliche Optionen an worauf die Spieler wiederum mit irgend einer Art von Feedback reagieren usw.
Hope that helps
– lior 2011-07-14 21:42 UTC
AlexSchroeder Danke für dein Kommentar. Die Idee der inversen Sandbox finde ich gut. Und einen guten Namen hat sie auch! 
Bis jetzt habe ich mal von Claudia Eine Antwort auf mein Mail erhalten. Wenn ich ein paar Antworten beisammen habe, melde ich mich wieder.
Mein Mail übrigens:
Hallo Leute
Ich frage mich gerade, ob es unter den Charakteren der Sonntagsrunde konkrete Charakterziele gibt, auf die ihr hinarbeiten wollt – und zwar in dem Sinne, dass ihr euch in den nächsten 1-3 Sessions ein Abenteuer hierzu wünscht.
Im Moment denke ich, dass Jörgs Jiriki den Ken-Kuni endlich finden will. Und sonst?
Im Gespräch mit Samuel ist mir nämlich aufgefallen, dass wir im Moment eigentlich Abenteuer um Abenteuer anreissen, sie dann aber nicht fertig machen sondern weiter reisen, und auf diesen Reisen natürlich neue Gebiete mit neuen Völkern und neuen Abenteuern entdecken. Mir macht das persönlich nicht soviel aus, aber falls ihr das Gefühl habt, wir sollten mal Dinge abschliessen, dann muss ich wissen, warum existierende Abenteuer nicht abgeschlossen werden. Ich vermute, dass eure Charaktere irgendwie andere Ziele haben. Die würde ich gerne hören.
Es ist übrigens keine Pflicht, ein Ziel zu haben. Es ist sogar günstiger, wenn die Gruppe nicht nur aus Alpha-Tieren besteht.
Sagt es einfach, und dann ist klar, welche Missionen wir zuerst machen sollten.
- Nibgit: Herrschaft in Grezneck? Oder Gobling Power Base im Westen? Oder nicht so klar?
- Rakuul: Die Harpyien besiegen? Ork Stamm übernehmen?
- Lordak: Speziellen Begleiter finden? Riesenspinne?
- Loduzh?
- Lorey?
- Linna: Troll Armee besiegen?
(Das sind eine Menge L!)
Es hat auf der Kommentarseite zum Spielbericht eine kleine Liste von Ideen von Samuel über das weitere Vorgehen – aber keine wirklichen Charakterziele.
Nächster Spieltermin ist der 7. August.
Lieben Gruss Alex
– AlexSchroeder 2011-07-14 23:17 UTC
lior Ihr habt ein Kompliment bekommen von Zak: “Fast Company II – Nonhumans (Schroeder & Shieh) 11 (read this. Extremely useful.)” [1]
– lior 2011-07-15 12:54 UTC
AlexSchroeder Sehr cool!
– AlexSchroeder 2011-07-15 13:59 UTC
lior Habe gerade noch eine Idee gehabt zur “inversen Sandbox”: Lass die Spieler das momentane Beziehungsgeflecht um ihren PC als Diagramm-Karte aufzeichnen. Brainstorm-mässig mit dem PC in der Mitte und mit Verbindungen zu Leute, Factions, Orten, Wünschen, Hoffnungen… Jeder Spieler hat also eine Art Sandbox innerhalb des PCs, in welches er auch total neue Elemente einfügen kann. Genauso wie die Spieler sich aus der Sandbox des SL bedienen pickt sich der SL die Hooks aus der inversen Sandbox der Spieler.
Frage: Wie bringt man die Spieler dazu diese Sandbox immer wieder zu aktualisieren? Oder ist das mehr eine Ad-Hoc Methode um eine momentane Blockade zu überwinden?
– lior 2011-07-20 13:42 UTC
The following developed out of a discussion on Google Reader regarding Rob Conley’s How to manage a sandbox campaign: The Box of Stuff. A friend started the discussion by saying more or less “I miss techniques that can help a GM improvise – except for random tables which have been discussed a lot. What other tools are there?” My reply turned into the following list of lists.
Random encounter tables have been discussed before. More generically, I prefer to organize my “stuff” in the form of lists. Keep these on index cards if you like. I keep meaning to do that, but I’m too lazy so all of this just ends up on pages upon pages in my little campaign notebooks or on my campaign wikis.
Here are the kinds of lists I keep. Usually these act as todo lists, not as tables to roll on.
Also, watch a lot of cheap movies and read a lot of science fiction and fantasy books. 
Tags: RPG
Old School
Sandbox
advice 
Comments on 2011-05-05 Tools for a Sandbox Referee
lior From my replies on Google Buzz: Interesting ideas. Reminds me of Apocalypse World and its “fronts”: You assign everything in the game world that does not belong to the players to a set of fronts, each on one front sheet. Each front has theme (like “hunger”, “revenge”, “disease”) and a separate internal dynamic with projected next events. Each time the group interacts with a part of a front the GM improvises a reaction based on the stuff written on the front sheet and the front’s theme. A front my be an abstract thing only for helping the GM or it may be a concrete game entity like a faction or an arch-enemy.
I should add that in Apocalypse World a front also has a discreet locality and that the themes are tuned to produce emotional involvement. But in another type of play those aspects may be handled differently.
Comparison: A front in AW: A nearby desert may be a front themed “thirst” and contain a rival gang of semi-zombies thirsting for blood and also an underground bunker with nuclear-powered water pumps that drain away the group’s water source. A front in Regular Fantasy Campaign: A nearby swamp is a “decay” themed front with a flesh-decaying disease emanating from a temple-ruin and a tribe of local troglodytes that, under the influence of the disease, turn aggressive and raid surrounding villages.
There is more to fronts mechanically, but I’d have to read that chapter again to say more.
– lior 2011-05-05 12:50 UTC
I just bought AW yesterday because people told me about the “counters”, implicit timers that are forwarded by certain events or “non-events”. It’s simultaneously a timeline and a pacing device. I have to look into those, they seem to be useful.
– Harald 2011-05-06 07:49 UTC
Something similar to counters that I use in my own campaign is a variant of this:
http://critical-hits.com/2011/01/31/the-5x5-dungeon-the-temple-of-elemental-evil
It’s a simple way to make the world alive, to have each faction progress in a natural way…
– Jonas 2011-05-09 10:07 UTC
Nice write-up. Have ever thought about what keeps you at the table as player?
– Stefan 2012-12-14 18:39 UTC
AlexSchroeder Yes!
I suspect it can all be found somewhere on this blog, hidden here and there⦠Perhaps How I Roll might be a good starting point, although it collects a lot of stuff from a referee perspective.
Thinking back, this is what I would say based on the last few years.
Given this list, I think previous “tests” telling me I was mostly a storyteller were plain wrong and didn’t account for the kind of game I like.
– AlexSchroeder 2012-12-14 19:42 UTC
What about ambience? Do you care for stuff like flickering candles and matching music or not at all? The fact that you didn’t mention this point and that I haven’t seen any of this in one of your games might give a hint, though
Do you think these things can help create an intense gaming experience and keep the players focused on the things happening on the table?
– Stefan 2012-12-14 20:44 UTC
AlexSchroeder I do not think that candles and the like would improve my game experience. It would be fun if somebody else organized it and it would be fun, but it would be unrelated fun. As for music, I have music playing in our appartment practically nonstop. That’s why I like to play movie or game soundtracks in the background. I don’t think that preparing particular tracks for particular scenes is worth the effort, however. Whenever I tried it, I was distracted and felt stressed out. What I like to do as a player, however, is to keep the iPod nearby and switch tracks to something appropriate every now and then. As a player, I have enough down time to be able to focus on the music. The only scene where this visibly helps, however, is when I switch to some droning Lustmord just as the party is confronted with ancient evil⦠I did that to good effect a handful of times.
– AlexSchroeder 2012-12-15 00:20 UTC
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