RPG Game Play: Encounters

This week, I wanted to discuss an issue that is both the centerpiece and the bread and butter for most tabletop role-playing games: Encounters.

"When a party descends into a dungeon for the first time, they must be ready to deal with the strange creatures they will meet: some foul, some fair, some intelligent, some not; the variety is endless. Such a meeting is called an encounter." - D&D Basic Rulebook (Moldvay) (1981)

To expand upon Messr Moldvay's description, by “encounter,” I mean the meeting of two or more non-allied groups.  I know that some GMs equate “encounter” with “combat,” with their adventures boiling down to a series of fights, this is not the only way to play RPGs.  Indeed, in the Old School idiom, combat is often deadly and only to be resorted to when one has a significant advantage or one has no other options.

Thus, it is important to remember that “encounter” doesn’t necessarily mean “combat”.  While some NPCs can be assumed to be immediately hostile (e.g., undead, cultists), others may have different but not necessarily conflicting agendas with the PCs.  For example, in the photo above from the all-time great film "Conan the Barbarian" (1982), Conan and Subotai bump into Valeria whilst robbing the temple.  Instead of fighting each other, the three thieves team up and shenanigans ensue!

An often overlooked aspect of encounters in Dungeons & Dragons (and other games) that reinforce the notion that “encounter” =/= “combat” are reaction checks.  In 1st edition Advanced Dungeons & Dragons, reaction checks are purely mechanistic:

"ENCOUNTER REACTIONS

Any intelligent creature which can be conversed with will react in some way to the character thot is speaking. Reaction is determined by rolling percentile dice, adjusting the score for charisma and applicable loyalty adjustment as if the creature were o henchman of the character speaking, and the modified score of the percentile dice is compared to the table below" - Dungeon Master's Guide (1979)

On the other hand, I prefer B/X's more flexible approach:

"MONSTER ACTIONS: Some monsters always act in the same way (such as zombies, who always attack). However, the reactions of most monsters are not always the same. The DM can always choose the monster's reactions to fit the dungeon, but if he decides not to do this, a DM may use the reaction table below to determine the monster's reactions" - D&D Basic Rulebook (Moldvay) (1981)

Thus, many NPCs, even hostile ones, can be reasoned with or bargained with- these are potential role-playing opportunities for the players!  The GM should provide sufficient information and clues that players can reasonably deduce whether situations are beyond them.

Probably outgunned...

The ability to improvise as a GM is also important here, since the players may have their characters act in ways that you don't expect.  Furthermore, don’t be afraid to call a bathroom break if you need a few minutes to gather your thoughts or even to end a session early if you need to plan out or rework the next part of the campaign!

Movie Review: The Sword and the Sorcerer (1982)

Sometimes, when I revisit a fondly remembered film from my youth, said film holds up despite the passage of time.  Sometimes, it doesn't.  The Sword and the Sorcerer falls into the latter category.

Not having seen The Sword and the Sorcerer in decades, I was hoping that this would be a masterwork, ala Conan the Barbarian (1982), even thought all I really remembered was Talon's *THREE* bladed sword, whose parallel blades shoot off!  Woo-hoo!  Seriously, at the time, I thought this sword was one of the coolest things ever.

However, on the re-watch, I found that the poor fight choreography, the preponderance of clichés, the special effects that haven't aged well and the easily correctable script problems were off-putting: For example, it's not spelled out, but Talon banging Princess Alana was probably incest.

Still, to be fair, The Sword and the Sorcerer is certainly not a poor Sword & Sorcery yarn.  I mean, there's a sword (with *THREE* blades!?!) and a sorcerer, can't be much more Sword & Sorcery than that, right?  Plus, it's got a hot princess (the super lovely Kathleen Beller), the requisite gore, violence and nudity for a Hard "R" and a story that zips along and that remains interesting, if sometimes goofy, throughout.

In The Sword and the Sorcerer, evil King Cromwell seeks to conquer the known world by resurrecting Xusia of Delos, an evil archmagus.  Team Evil's path to global domination begins by knocking over the peaceful Kingdom of Ehdan and murdering all of the Ehdanian royal family except for the youngest son, Talon, who gets away with the *THREE* bladed sword.  Then, Cromwell makes the smart play of trying to assassinate Xusia before the sorcerer inevitably turns on him.

Unfortunately, Cromwell mucks up the assassination and Xusia escapes.  Years later, both the surviving wizard and the surviving prince, now a famous mercenary leader, return to Ehdan to seek their vengeance.  The movie ends pretty much as you would expect.

Where The Sword and the Sorcerer is more impressive is how it differs from the host of other post-Conan fantasy action films: drawing much from Errol Flynn swashbucklers, the film laced with humor and Talon is as likely to fire off a quip as swing his sword.  Also, the double villain structure allows for some clever treachery and backstabbing.  And, the princess shows more spunk than the typical helpless damsel, using the patented knee to the balls technique.

Plus, Lee Horsely is a much, much, much better actor than Arnold Schwarzenegger.  For example, Messr Horsely plays Talon with easy wit and good comedic timing.  And director Albert Pyun isn't afraid to go after the laughs either: after the rousing "let's go save our leader" speech in the brothel, the movie immediately jump cuts to the would-be rescuers in the dungeon.  Hi*LAR*ious!

If you're looking for a fun, campy pulp action film and are willing to relax your brain, The Sword and the Sorcerer isn't a bad choice.  Alternately, if you want to see a sword with *THREE* blades, this is the movie for you!

RPG Focus: 6th Edition Call of Cthulhu (2004)

"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn."

This week, I want to take an Olde School look back on a terrifying classic, Call of Cthulhu, the seminal work in the field of Horror RPGs.

Named after H. P. Lovecraft's story of the same name and drawing upon the eponymous Cthulhu Mythos, Call of Cthulhu (or "CoC" for short) is mostly true to the source material as the PCs (aka "Investigators") take on the role of ordinary people struggling against various dark forces.  I love this setup, as the power level of the game presents real opportunities for true horror, as well as true (if potentially bleak) heroism.

While this discussion specifically covers the 6th Edition, Call of Cthulhu, published by Chaosium and powered by the Basic Role-Playing (BRP) game engine, has remained mostly unchanged over the years since the publication of the 1st Edition of Call of Cthulhu in 1981, which is a testament to the solidity of the BRP ruleset.  Indeed, CoC is one of the best and most influential of the second generation of roleplaying games.

Compared to the contemporaneous AD&D 1E, Call of Cthulhu is faster and simpler game.  It's not quite as streamlined as a modern design, but still easily playable and has a quick learning curve.  In true Olde School tradition, stats are randomly generated, though then there's a point distribution element, based on an Investigator's Intelligence and Education, for skills.  As you might expect, using the RAW some Investigators can have far more skill points than others, so for my own CoC games, I house rule that all Investigators start with the same number of skill points, regardless of Intelligence and Education scores.

With a good Game Master  (aka "Keeper"), the gameplay can be evocative, tense and terrifying as the Investigators explore the mysteries and face the challenges of the Cthulhu Mythos.  As I mentioned above, PCs are fragile (both mentally and physically) and I really like that this leads to more of a Sneak-and-Peak approach, rather than Search-and-Destroy.  This has influenced my campaigns such that the PCs' typical backup plan for any genre is to run away.

The book itself is filled with good advice and, unlike AD&D 1E, isn't written in High Gygaxian, so the writing is clear and to the point.  The book also has lots of neat tidbits to add color and atmosphere (such as a timeline of weird events), as well as random fun things.

So, if you're a roleplaying fan of Lovecraft or Horror generally, I'd suggest taking a look at this tried and true classic!

Movie Review: "Princess Mononoke (もののけ姫)" (1997)

This week, I wanted to give a shout out to a masterwork from Miyazaki Hayao (宮崎 駿), the greatest animated film director of all time, the amazing Princess Mononoke:

One of the most popular animated films in its native Japan, "Princess Mononoke" is an epic low fantasy jidaigeki (period drama) set in the Muromachi period.  Developed from Miyazaki's idea from the 1970s of a girl living in the woods with a monster, this film follows Ashitaka, the last Emishi prince, who slays a demon in order to protect his people but ends up cursed as a result.  The curse gives Ashitaka supernatural powers, but will spread through his body and eventually kill him.

Now, Ashitaka must voyage far to the west to discover where the demon came from and to face his destiny.  The young wanderer finds a land filled with chaos and becomes embroiled in a sinister and deadly conflict between gods, monsters, men and the Emperor.  With all sides out for blood, the prince must somehow "see with eyes unclouded by hate."

One of the greatest and most famous animated films of all time, "Princess Mononoke" was a huge critical and commercial success (briefly the highest-grossing film of all time in Japan, until overtaken by "Titanic") and greatly expanded the profile of Studio Ghibli in the West.  In addition to the gorgeously animated and eye popping visuals (approximately 144,000 cels were used in the film, of which Messr Miyazaki redrew parts of an estimated 80,000 cels!), "Princess Mononoke" stands out because of its imaginative, intricate and complex story.  Whilst the main plot covers the struggle between the protectors of an ancient forest and the humans who consume its resources, there are multiple factions with their own agendas.

However, what makes the film's story really stand out is that the story is not a simplistic tale of good and evil but contains many shades of grey as each faction fights for control of the future.  For example, Lady Eboshi, the presumptive villain of the piece, has liberated and given a new life to dozens of prostitutes and lepers.  Moreover, she genuinely cares about her people and wants the forest's resources to secure their wellbeing.

Many other characters are well realized and three dimensional too, even relatively minor ones.  This gives the places in the film a more grounded and lived in feeling.

Yet another thing that makes "Princess Mononoke" special is that, in an era where computer-generated imagery (CGI) is becoming dominant in animation, this film is a throwback to Old school Japanese style anime that is mostly traditional hand drawn animation.  Messr Miyazaki insisted that CGI be limited to 10% of the film.  Moreover, the computer animated parts are designed to blend in and support the traditional animation, and are mainly used to give the film a more live action feel, using images consisting of a mixture of CGI and traditional drawing.

Friends urged Messr Miyazaki to make "Princess Mononoke" before his health prevented him from making an action film and boy did the master deliver!  From the brisk opening scene through multiple battles and the thrilling climax, the action is crisp, clever and superbly choreographed.  And, more often than not, fights end in unexpected ways.

So, if you are a fan of Old School Japanese animation, low fantasy, Japanese history and/or interesting and outstanding stories, you owe it to yourself to watch the master at the top of his game in this film!

RPG Design: Artwork

This week, I wanted to discussed a hugely important but sometimes overlooked or skimped on element of creating tabletop role-playing games, Artwork:

While it is, of course, hugely fun to muse about game mechanics or other aspects of a rule set, if a game is to be more than just a thought experiment or a creative outlet, it needs to be played by people other than just the designer's own group.  However, with the advent of the internet and of desktop publishing, in addition to commercial products, there are literally thousands of FREE rule sets available nowadays!  Moreover, learning a new tabletop role-playing game is usually a pretty big ask, since it requires a significant investment of time and energy.

So, how to make some noise on the teh interwebs and to convince people to bother to take a look at a new rules set?  Like finding players, this problem is really about marketing, and perhaps the effective way to make a game stand out for a casual viewer is by adding good artwork to the game.

Of course, the definition of "good artwork" depends heavily both on a particular game and on personal taste but, at a fundamental level, IMHO "good artwork" must at least: 

• Be an artistic style that fits the intended flavor of the game, and
• Capture the spirit/mood of the genre/playstyle of the game.

On the artwork meter, I also award bonus points for a game having a distinctive artistic style, such as the amazing and evocative work by Kevin Long in early Rifts/Palladium products.

Unfortunately,  quality artwork is usually expensive, so unless one is an artist oneself or one has generous artist friends, there's a temptation to skimp.  There are sources of low cost (e.g., stock art) or no cost artwork (e.g, public domain), but such works may not fit the rest of the game's art style, mood, genre, etc.  In addition, excessive use of low cost or no cost artwork can make the entire game come off as amateurish.

However, even lesser quality artwork is often better than no artwork.   Pages upon pages of unmitigated text can quickly become a chore for the reader, greatly decreasing the chance to hook a potential player.

Tables, sidebars and the like can help to break up text walls and improve readability, but usually are not much help from a marketing point of view.  Perhaps the only example of a hugely successful no artwork RPG is "Traveller" (1977), which used a sleek minimalist look, superb writing and excellent production design:

Some RPG designers have been able to use Kickstarter or other crowdfunding strategies to good effect to address the cost of good artwork.  The most effective crowdfunded RPG projects usually have the text of the game mostly or completely written before beginning.  The rewards and perils of Kickstarter or other crowdfunding are complex enough that they are best addressed in another blog post but, suffice to say, one should not embark on that particular voyage without sufficient knowledge and preparation!

A great tabletop role-playing game is something that can be owned and used for decades, so good artwork often becomes part of the fun and experience of looking at the same document many, many times.  In addition, good artwork not only adds value but is synergistic, though it doesn't have to track with the written words.  I'm personally fond of old school RPG artwork that doesn't push any particular narrative/playstyle, because, when done properly, it can inspire all kinds of play that's only limited by one's own imagination.

Culture: Chopsticks (筷子) (~400 BC)

Eating is necessary for life but eating well is one of things that makes life worth living!  So, this week I wanted to give a shout out to one of the oldest and most famous eating implements of all time, Chopsticks (筷子):

A common sight at tables throughout throughout East Asia and beyond, chopsticks are sets of two equal length sticks that are used as kitchen and eating utensils.  Usually made of wood, metal, or plastic, chopsticks for eating are typically typically 7 to 10 inches long and are smoothed, with blunt ends, and are frequently tapered.

The Chinese term is 筷子 (pinyin: kuàizi), with the character 筷 combining a phonetic part meaning "quick" (快), and a semantic part meaning "bamboo" (竹).  However, the origin of the English name is a mystery: "chopstick" may be derived from Chinese Pidgin English, in which "chop chop" means "quickly".  

Held in the dominant hand, between the thumb and fingers, chopsticks are to pick up pieces of food and thus require more dexterity than knife and fork, which are typically used in Europe and the Americas.  However, with practice, most people can gain proficiency.

According to the California Academy of Sciences, the first "chopsticks" developed in China around 5000 years ago and were twigs used as cooking utensils for stirring fires, reaching deep into boiling pots of water or oil, etc.  Later, around 400 BC, chopsticks became popular as eating utensils when,  as a result of a population boom, resources became scarce.  Consequently, chefs began cutting food into small pieces which would cook more quickly to conserving fuel.  Thus, the need arose for eating implements capable of easily handling these small pieces.  

In addition, the spread of Confucianism may have also played a part in popularizing chopsticks.  Being a vegetarian, Confucius taught, “The honorable and upright man keeps well away from both the slaughterhouse and the kitchen. And he allows no knives on his table.”  The great sage thought that using knives as eating utensils evoked violence and warfare, and therefore discouraged such use.

By 500 AD, chopsticks had spread to Japan, Vietnam and Korea as a result of Chinese cultural influence, although early Japanese chopsticks were used only for religious ceremonies.  In the intervening millennia, chopsticks have also become widely used wherever expatriate Chinese traveled.

So, if you are using chopsticks, remember that you are enjoying a meal the same way that billions of people have done for thousands of years.  Just don't stick them vertically into rice, which is bad luck as it is similar to incense at funerals!

RPG Game Play: Character Death

This week, I wanted to discuss an issue that no tabletop role-player wants to think about: Character Death.

A key difference between tabletop role-playing games and other games wherein players assume the role of a character, such as some board games and war games, is that tabletop role-players often make mental and emotional investment in their character.  As a consequence of this investment, the possibility of Character Death has important effects on game play (e.g., raising the stakes, adding dramatic tension, etc.), as well as interesting knock on effects (e.g., encouraging players to pay much closer attention).

However, the possibility of Character Death is not a given in tabletop RPGs.  Sometimes, this lack of Character Death is a function of the particular tropes of a genre (e.g., superhero games).  However, other times, this lack of Character Death is accomplished by nerfing Random Number Generation (RNG) via player narrative tools.  Indeed, in some New School games, characters pretty much can't even die unless the player agrees, making "dying" a player's choice.

The stated rationale for this position is that the story is more important than the simulation or the game aspects in those games.  For example, in "FATE Core" (2013):

"We recommend [taking Character Death off the table], mainly for the following reason: most of the time, sudden character death is a pretty boring outcome when compared to putting the character through hell. "

Character Death is a pretty boring outcome?

Suffice to say, "FATE Core" and other story games hold the minority opinion among tabletop role-player.

By contrast, in many Old School games, Character Death is a ever present possibility, forming a key part of the tone of such games.  For example, in "Original Dungeons & Dragons" (1974) and similar games, the characters risk life and limb for the chance at fame and loot.  Without the possibility of Character Death, the perilous atmosphere loses most, if not all, of the edginess, and the risk/reward nature.

Of course, some critics mistake advocating for the POSSIBILITY of Character Death for advocating for a REQUIREMENT of such.  Advocates for the NECESSITY of Character Death, if they exist, must be extremely rare.

Character Death is mitigated in some games by giving players the opportunity to resurrect characters,
or by using bleed out rules.  Other games substitute major wounds for Character Death.  However, in my humble opinion, this is a bridge too far towards New School.  Indeed, except for genre exceptions (e.g., superhero games), a game can't really be Old School unless the possibility of Total Party Kill (TPK) is on the table.

Of course, the death of a character (especially Permadeath) can be a touchy subject for a player.  Character Death can be keenly felt and painful.  As a result, everyone's expectations should be on the same page, preferably before play begins, as a part of the group's "social contract".