This page lists the most recent journal entries related to role-playing games (RPG). There are some more pages on the related German page (Rollenspiele).
Free web apps I wrote:
For the last few years Google+ has been my platform of choice for conversation about role-playing games. But over the recent months I’ve seen a lot of people unhappy with redesign choices made by the G+ team. I don’t know whether this is just people resisting change or whether G+ is in fact going downhill, but I still enjoy the conversation.
One big element for Google+ usage is finding new people to circle. Sadly, circle sharing is no longer supported. Luckily, Claytonian JP made huge list. Sadly, I didn’t make it onto the list. Oh well, can’t be on all the lists. But then I though to myself, I should make my own list. So here goes.
This list includes people that also post about other stuff, but either they use collections (yay!) or because it seemed related enough (video games, movies).
This list does not include people that only post in communities, because circling them will not help you: you need to follow the communities instead. I also skipped people that haven’t posted in a long time with a few rare exceptions.
+John Harper +Oliver Palmer +Charlie Mason +Peter Ceee +Rafael Chandler +Brett Slocum +Logan Knight +Brendan S +Joel Priddy +Jason Lutes +Benjamin Eisenhofer +kirin robinson +Adam Dray +Olav Nygård +Svebor Midzic +Robert Fisher +Jürgen Mayer +Alex Chalk +Ian Wyckoff +Emily Dresner Thornber +Mateo Diaz Torres +Roger GS +Dungeon Contest +A. Miles Davis +Gus L +Arnold K +Martijn Vos +Stasis Engine +Michael Prescott +Reece Carter +Victor Raymond +ktrey parker +Jeff Call +Tim Hartin +Derek Badman
… Ugh, running out of time! I’ll have to finish this list another day.
Remember the monster manual I’ve been working on? The current status is not so bad:
Ape, Giant … Basilisk … Bear … Bee, Giant … Beetle, Giant Boar … Bugbear … Cat, Large … Centaur … Centipede, Giant … Chimera … Crab, Giant … Creeper … Crocodile … Doppelgänger … Dragon … Dwarf (NPC) … Elephant … Elf (NPC) … Ettin … Gargoyle … Ghoul … Giant … Gnoll … Gnome … Goblin … Golem … Gorgon … Gryphon … Halfling (NPC) … Harpy … Hellhound … Hobgoblin … Horse … Human … Hydra … Ifrit … Invisible Stalker … Jinni … Lamprey, Giant Psychic … Lizard, Giant … Lizard, People … Lycanthrope … Manticore … Marid … Medusa … Minotaur … Mummy … Weasel, Giant … Worm, Giant
Basically it’s good enough for me to take the booklet and use it at the table. I’ve already noticed a few things.
My games no longer have any clerics in them. But back when I had them, they turned undead. How exactly, asked Brett Eliot on Google+.
I ruled that LOS is important. I imagine the holy symbol shining some sort of holy light which hurts the undead. It’s that light which disintegrates them, too. Thus, distance is not a problem, in theory. But the undead can always take cover and so it depends. In a flat desert the army of undead will appear over the horizon and immediately freeze when they see the lone cleric, miles away, turning them. And slowly, in the milky twilight his holy light one zombie after another starts to melt, disintegrate. Do they rush forward, hoping to reach the cleric before all being destroyed, or do they build man shields to protect them, or do they take cover and wait for another day? Clearly, that explains why the undead prefer to exist underground. Less exposure to random holy photons.
Noisms recentlz wrote Elementary Principles of Dungeon Drawing and his first point is this: “Snazzy weird shapes and arrangements of rooms look good on paper but in my experience are really hard to explain at the table without ending up with the DM doing lots of drawing, which defeats the purpose of having players do the mapping.”
The longer I run Castle of the Mad Archmage, the more I agree with this assessment.
If I can’t communicate it at the table in a reasonable amount of time, it’s a waste of time.
Check out levels 3 to 5 of Castle of Mad Archmage for an example of what I’m talking about. This is the absolute limit of what I’m willing to communicate to my players.
I get questions by the mapper because they want to get it right and everybody just zones out after “The one in the north western face heads westerly…” it’s not a question of difficulty in describing it. It’s a question of time taken to describe it before the game breaks down.
One could argue about verisimilitude, or how the referee should be drawing maps, or I could just simplify all the maps. After all, it’s a game for all of us to enjoy at the table.
Generally speaking though, I’ve found myself drifting towards node-based dungeon maps. The question of mapping now has a simple answer: draw a beautiful map to represent the nodes and entertain the referee. That’s it.
Back in 2010 I wrote about quality dungeons. Here are some of the points I made regarding the map:
Recent examples from my own games trying to strike a balance between these points and my free time:
Does anybody know how to get an OPML feed from Feedly? How would you share blog subscriptions without OPML? What I did was get the blog titles and wrap it in Google search because I was tired after looking up the correct URLs after the first one. Not ideal at all!
Gavin was wondering about random encounters on Google+. He was wondering about probabilities and said he had noticed that “wandering monsters virtually never come up.”
Yeah, wandering monsters are rare. But they do happen once or twice a session. The effect they have depends on the setup, however. If your players are pressed for time and after two or three hours they need to leave, and thus the dungeon exploration ends, then additional random encounters don’t do much, I think. They sometimes surprise the referee and add some color, that is all. That’s how I run it. I just roll the dice when I’m bored as a minor tax on players taking too long to make decisions or listening and checking for traps all the time.
If you add a severe penalty, as in rolling on a terrible table of tearful results if the party doesn’t make it out in time, then the exciting bit is rolling for random encounters on the way out and hoping for no delays. That’s how I want to run it, but I never rolled on that ominous table and thus perhaps players don’t actually fear it.
If, on the other hand, players stay for as long as they want but they can’t heal or memorize new spells in the dungeon, then the dynamics might change: they try to maximize their stay, pushing resources to the limit, and now avoiding combat with random encounters is even more important. Perhaps that’s how Gary ran his table?
Sometimes I think I don’t actually want to bring skills to the table but I want to bring those King Arthur Pendragon traits to the character, using a d20 or 2d6 or something.
Assume we wanted to see whether a character would watch over a city gate for two days. Instead of making a focus skill check, you make a trait check to see whether your character is energetic or lazy.
If you don’t know: King Arthur Pendragon 1st ed. is free on RPGNow until the end of the month, apparently. Each character has a variety of opposing traits such as chaste vs. lustful, energetic vs. lazy, forgiving vs. vengeful, etc. The point is that your character might not act the way you want them to and I like that. The two opposing traits always add up to 20.
chaste ↔ lustful
energetic ↔ lazy
forgiving ↔ vengeful
generous ↔ selfish
honest ↔ deceitful
just ↔ arbitrary
merciful ↔ cruel
modest ↔ proud
pious ↔ worldly
prudent ↔ reckless
temperate ↔ indulgent
trusting ↔ suspicious
valorous ↔ cowardly
So say we have energetic 13 and lazy 7. You want the character to stand guard for two days. Let’s have an energetic test: If you roll 1–12, you succeed. If you roll 13, you have a critical success. If you roll higher, you fail. Failing this check might mean that the characters started nodding off, or got distracted. They weren’t energetic enough.
In some cases, you might want to determine whether the character does the exact opposite of what the player wants. In these situations, make an involuntary check of the opposite trait. In this case, a lazy check: if you roll 1–6, the character is lazy. On a 7, critically so. If the characters were actively lazy, they probably retired to a nearby tavern and decided to keep an eye on the gate by peeping out the window every now and then. On a critical lazy result, they’re probably drunk and crawling around on the tavern floor.
If characters fail both checks, the player gets to decide. Since players get to decide if they succeed the first check (since this is what they wanted the character to do) and if they fail the second check, characters actively disobeying players doesn’t happen too often.
On important occasions, the referee might decide that an action was worth a “check”. A check means that at the end of the session, players roll a d20 and if they beat the existing score, it goes up (with 19 being the upper limit). In a D&D game, you might want to do this immediately, but at most once per session, or upon gaining a level (but that might be very long off).
If all players start with traits around 7–13, a trait of 16 or higher would mean that they are famous for being generous, lazy, lustful, or whatever.
If you are in the circles of +John Bell on Google+, you might have seen his invite link to the OSR Discord channel. Discord is sort of like Slack with voice chat (it should be getting videochat soon).
So, it’s a bit like IRC, but better.
I guess my adventures are simply not so dungeon based, or they’re based on a dungeon with an existing map. For my own adventures, I’m more of a simple graph person.
This is a good example for a low-prep session. I might then map that to the existing hex map (you can see the hex coordinates on my notes). But recently the party visited the tower of the most powerful magic-user in the area and it was all “stairs… hallway… zombies… grand hall… bla bla” and no map required and I had none ready.
This a bigger map of some drow outpost which I used in that old adventure about Lloth and compared to what was actually used at the table, it was too complex. Almost none of it got used.
I've been thinking about using integration with a graph-generating library, see Mermaid. I guess flowcharts could be used? But is this text-based entry good enough? Are the graphs useful enough? I don’t know.
The notes for our games look a lot messier than what Gridmapper would produce. But if you want to publish something, I’d say that Gridmapper is ideal because it’s a quick, painless, clean, high resolution image of your dungeon map. I’m thinking of One Page Dungeons. I liked them better when they felt like they were something I could have produced, even if I didn’t. Looking at the very polished entries make my heart ache and my fingers tremble, and I think about quitting and just focusing on gardening instead of game prep.
I remember reading about the system an author of a mega dungeon used. Too bad I can’t find a link to the blog post. It was a Perl script which interpreted line drawing instructions. I read that and thought: there must be a tool for those of us that don’t want to polish their map drawing skills. Gridmapper was to be that tool.
But then again, polished maps are overrated. They’re good if you want to publish something, but our own maps look very different.
I feel like there’s too much focus on publishing and not enough normal referees sharing what their hastily sketched homemade stuff actually looks like. A new referee looks at maps in modules or entries in the One Page Dungeon Contest and cries instead of looking at your prep or my prep, laughing out loud and thinking I can do that!!
I want to see the notes you scribbled last night right before people started ringing at the front door. The raw notes where you don’t want to write down stuff that’s obvious because it’ll take as much time to invent it later as it will take you to write it now and read it later. Who cares about the “rough-hewn flagstones”. Nobody.
I want to see your scribbled notes!
If your players can hire retainers, how do you handle it? I used a d30 list of candidates. Some of these were “normal men” – people who didn’t want to fight: porters, torchbearers, horse handlers and the like. Thus, when people wanted to hire some people, I had them roll 1d6 for the number of people to show up at the tavern at the beginning of the session, and I had them roll a d30 for as many times, read them the entry from my list, promised myself to replace that entry at some point, and then tried to figure out what stats to give these people.
Over the last few sessions, however, I’ve noticed a different trend: I simply have a large stack of printed, computer generated pre-generated characters and if players looked for new candidates to hire, they rolled a d6 and pulled as many characters from the stack. Instant details, including funny faces, equipment, spells, and all that.
I wrote the generator and so generating twenty or thirty characters is no problem at all. I ended up extending the generator whenever I joined a new game, so for the moment it is most useful for B/X (the default), Labyrinth Lord (the prices differ a bit), and Halberds & Helmets (my house rules). There’s even some ACKS support in there, but it is severely lacking, sadly. Encoding the feats has proven to be supper annoying and I no longer play in an ACKS campaign. If you don’t like it, there’s Ramanan's character generator with support for Basic D&D (the one I linked to), 1974 D&D, Holmes D&D and Lamentations of the Flame Princess, and campaign specific characters for Pahvelorn, Apolyon, and Carcosa. Check out the footer for links!
Using pre-generated player characters turned out to be very popular, where as using “normal men” was fraught with problems. Do they gain XP? After I while I decided that they do. Can they gain a level? After a while I said yes of course, but obviously only classes suitable for humans. But when? When they gained 100XP. Do they get a share of the treasure? At one point I had the following rule, trying to limit the bookkeeping of minute XP amounts: they needed to gain 100 XP in one go by being part of a fight with monsters where every single participant got 100 XP or more. This made sure that those “normal men” only gained a level when fighting manticores or similarly traumatic events.
And yet… It was too damn complicated for me, and none of my players cared.
That’s why I’m going to drop the d30 table of candidates and replace the section in my player handbook with a note saying that the referee will have some character sheets prepared.
And finally, if my players don’t want to share treasure and XP with retainers, then they should buy war dogs instead. Pets are better than “normal men” with all the rules baggage.
A few weeks ago, I wrote about mass combat rules. Yesterday, I had a fight of the party plus 45 light infantry and 8 war dogs against Lord Baba and his 40 thieves. I wanted to use mass combat rules because last session the party was fighting werewolves and real wolves with the aid of a dozen zombies and it had turned into a lot of dice rolling. At the same time, I didn’t want to use something like An Echo Resounding because I didn’t have units of about 100 each. Thus, I fell back on the old M20 Mass Combat rules I had available. But I wanted to make it simpler. The M20 rules still have a problem: Every damage roll is multiplied by the combat scale of the attacker, divided by the combat scale of the defender, and rounded down. So, I tried a slightly different approach.
Group combatants into units as you like. We had three players and me at the table, so each one played their characters, and a single unit. One had all the war dogs, one had 25 infantry, the other had 20 infantry, and I had 40 thieves, and they all had their player characters and I had my non-player character.
Compute total hit-points for all units. Just multiply the average hit-points with the number of individuals. 40 thieves means 40×3.5=140, 20 infantry means 20×4.5=90, 8 war dogs means 8×11=88.
Combat starts as usual. Roll for initiative, move, attack, and so on. AC, movement rate, morale and saves don’t change.
Damage dealt is multiplied by the combat scale. This models how in larger skirmishes not everybody gets to attack. There are corridors, corners, trees, cover, the press of bodies, whatever. Knowing this table, it makes sense to divide units in particular ways. Thus, we changed the split of infantry units from 20/25 to 21/24 so that both units got a ×6 combat scale for their first attack.
When you're hit, adjust your combat scale. Divide the remaining hit-points by the average hit-points per individual and round up to see how many are still alive. For example, if the thieves have 53 hit-points left, then we still have 53/3.5≈16 thieves (rounding up). The original combat scale of 40 thieves was ×6, but 16 thieves have a combat scale of ×5.
Player characters can “hide” within a unit, granting them their charisma bonus for morale checks. When the unit takes damage, the player and non-player characters are the last ones to actually take damage. All these characters attack as usual, with separate attack rolls and separate spell casting actions.
Spells works as they usually do. We had some sleep spells cast, for example. No problem.
Every unit must make a morale check when it looses its first member, and another when it loses half its members. This is important! Such a unit is considered broken. They will hunker down and disengage. This happened to one of the units following the thieves into their hideout.
A player or non-player character within a broken unit may attempt to rally the unit. Only one character per round may try this. If this succeeds, the unit will have skipped a round, no problem. The unit commander in our game managed to pull this off.
If a broken unit suffers any damage, it will rout. A routed unit must flee the battle field and any other unit in melee range will get a free extra attack with a +2 bonus.
Those were all the rules we needed.
It solved my main requirements:
It still required a calculator to determine the numbers lost after every hit.