Showing posts with label Hippy Game. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hippy Game. Show all posts

Monday, May 25, 2020

The Noisy Season

Got together tonight on Roll20 with an old friend from half a continent away. After catching up (we hadn't seen each other since GenCon) we played 1/3 to 1/2 a game of The Quiet Year. If you haven't heard of it, The Quiet Year is a collaborative map-making game. We're building a community in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. It's a lot of fun. Here's our map as it stands at the moment:
I like The Quiet Year quite a bit. Enough to buy it on Roll20, despite owning a hardcopy that I suppose I could have just scanned in, or played by drawing cards in meatspace and just reading them into the video chat. It was enjoyable enough we're going to get together next week for the second half. (There's more than half a game left to do, but we spent the first hour mostly gabbing and catching up tonight, so it will probably zip by fast next time.)

The Roll20 implementation is pretty minimalist. It has all the pages of the rulebook as individual handouts, which is great for searching up individual rules, or for splitting up the reading of the rulebook between players. I wasn't completely convinced that Roll20's drawing tools were up to the task, and as you can see our drawings are pretty rough. I gotta say though, it worked well enough and was every bit as fun as in-person play. The Roll20 interface actually sped the game up, because if you had something a little more involved to draw you could fill in details while the other player took their turn. That's not normally a thing you can do when passing one sheet of paper back and forth in the physical game. So in some ways the Roll20 version is better than in-person (speed of play, and being able to play long-distance despite quarantine), and in other ways it is inferior to tabletop (mostly because the drawing tools on Roll20 aren't as easy to use as a box of colored pencils is).

I have always wanted to use The Quiet Year to create a map and history together with a playgroup, and then later set an RPG for the same group in that world we'd created together. It occurs to me that the Roll20 implementation would make it really easy to do that, as well as much easier to tweak that map (or upgrade it with a fancy version) after the start of the campaign. You would, however, then have a few dozen redundant rules-handouts jamming up your journal that you would want to delete or archive.  Even so, that is really cool, and now I really want to try that sometime.

One thing that did disappoint me a little about the Roll20 implementation is the lack of bells and whistles. I had to add the tiny dice as rollable table tokens. For the Contempt Tokens, I had to steal a chip from an old WH40K RPG campaign I ran back in the day. The yellowed paper background was on a single pregenerated page that took a little bit of ingenuity to duplicate to other pages for a second game.
(Addendum: It occured to me a few weeks later that they probably set it up that way intending for you to launch the module as a new campaign each time you want to play, so having multiple pages per campaign wasn't even a thing they considered. I think I prefer to have all the maps from every game of The Quiet Year that I've ever done online all be accessible in the same campaign framework, for ease of reference, and so I can show off old maps when teaching the game to new players. I suppose that preference might change if I do ever get around to starting an RPG campaign with a round of The Quiet Year to make the map for the campaign. You might not want a dozen other maps clogging up your campaign in that situation.) 
All told, it was less than half an hour of work to set up a reusable online version of the game, but if I had just bought it and thought I could start play right away I would have been surprised that I needed to take those extra steps the first time. I don't really know the first thing about how hard it is to build a sellable product on the Roll20 Marketplace, but it seems like it wouldn't be too much to ask for the game to come with a few assets that were selectable from the art library of the marketplace item, such as a set of tiny dice icons (or better yet, a prebuilt rollable token), a themed graphic for Contempt, and the yellow parchment background that you could then drag and drop to start a new page (bonus points if you could use it in other games/campaigns). I wonder if that's possible?

Along those lines, I'm really surprised that the Roll20 interface doesn't really include any generic "glass bead" -style tokens. Maybe they worry that would cut into sales of art assets? It sure seems like it would be useful for any number of gaming applications, but not so cool that people would be willing to pay much for it. But it also doesn't seem like it would take much work for Roll20's staff to make a set of half a dozen colored bead tokens available as a freebie (Edit: Or just one, which the GM could color via the existing token Tint feature), since they already give away for free several dozen virtual miniatures that are way more detailed.

Anyhow, The Quiet Year is elegant, goofy fun, and I highly recommend it, whether in dead-tree or Roll20 version. It's not perfect, but it's definitely worth the modest asking price in either format.

Wednesday, August 28, 2019

Three Cons, Old Friends, and a Boom

I have been busy as heck lately, and playing a lot of games.

Work sent me out to GenCon, were I ran demos of Shadows of Brimstone, Forbidden Fortress, Last Night On Earth, Fortune & Glory, and A Touch Of Evil. It was super fun and I love sharing and teaching many of my favorite games to total strangers... but it was also very exhausting because GenCon is a huge show with a million faces and a hundred thousand games.

In my off hours at the con, I played a couple of new games I hadn't tried before.

Incan Gold is a fun press-your-luck game that I reliably came in... well, certainly not winning, but not in last place, either, so I feel like I did okay for a newbie. The best part was that I got to play the game with my old friend Brendan Riley, who lives far away and I hadn't seen in several years, and my buddy Bill French. I never would have expected them to meet, given that they live in different states, but GenCon is a place of miracles.

Brendan's company Rattlebox Games is playtesting a game called Udder Chaos, the only competitive cow-milking game I've ever seen. It's fast and goofy and full of rhymes. It was light-hearted fun, and you'd be helping support a old friend of mine, so check it out if you get a chance.

One night at GenCon I played a party game called Buy The Rights, in which you get a random hand of high concepts and genres and have to make your best pitch about why producers should invest money with you. I hammed it up, basically role-playing as a different screenwriter or producer in each round, and it turns out that nonsense is a very successful strategy in this game.

The other fun new experience of this GenCon for me was Hellapagos, a party game that starts out fully cooperative and then suddenly very quickly descends into murder and sometimes cannibalism. It was a social game that really felt like the first season of Lost. Everyone was working together to build a raft and catch fish, except for a couple slackers who just raided the wreckage for personal treasures. Much fun was had by all, including those who died when suddenly everyone started scrambling for the limited space on the raft. I, as one of those horrible slackers who spent a lot of turns searching the wreck, found a decent supply of bullets, which I traded 1 at a time to the only person who had found a gun, in exchange for her using them on people other than myself. In the end, 3 of the 8 players, including myself, made it back to civilization to tell the story of how we were the sole survivors of the wreck. Just don't ask about the barbecue.


Shortly after getting back from GenCon, I packed my suitcase a second time and headed to my favorite little (~1,000 attendees) local gaming convention, Dragonflight. I had originally planned to just go for fun, but at the last minute agreed to volunteer to run the Story Games Lounge when the usual volunteer dropped out. As it turns out, volunteering to run the Story Games room is itself a lot of fun.


First day of Dragonflight Game Convention:

GM'd an awesome double-length Psi*Run for 7 players.

Explored an alien planet in The Quiet Year

Lost a game of Snake Oil to the dreaded Fraud card

Played "2 Rooms and a Boom" till my brains hurt. It's a great social-deduction game, kind of like "Are You A Werewolf?" except everyone gets to play the entire game and know one has to die until the last couple seconds.

Won a game of Jetpack Unicorn. Honestly, I'm not crazy about this game. I think Superfight does the same thing, but better.

Played some more 2 Rooms and a Boom. (Across 6 games I've now been on both teams a couple times, been the bomber and been an Ambassador.)

On Day 2 of Dragonflight:

 GM'd Og the caveman RPG for 5 players. No use big words play Og. The cavemen met The Doctor, and caused a regeneration.

GM'd another successful Psi*Run, for 4 new players. Hallucinatory madness derailed everything in a delightful way.

Hosted a giant marathon Microscope timeline for 6 players. It was epic! One of the best-developed, most fleshed-out microscope games I've ever seen. These new players really picked it up quickly and dove deep into the game.

That night, I got the band back together! Playing in Laura Mortensen's annual midnight Urchin game, as my recurring character, Rory Wanker of the formerly famous Rory Wanker and the Bloody Stickers. We're making a comeback, if only in my mind.

Other games played in the Story Game Lounge included more Quiet Year, some Zombie Cinema, and a few escapades of esteemed Baron Munchausen.

Day 3 of Dragonflight:

Played in a delightful Lego and d20s game run by Tim Beach. Two of the 5 players were kids, and they kept the game light-hearted and unpredictable. Tim did an amazing job of making the game work on the kids level and not lose the adults to boredom. Nearly all of my GMing experience in the last 20 years is with adults, but I can only imagine GMing for kids takes extra creativity, patience, and panache. Well done, sir.

Later that night:
I went to a birthday party at Zulu's game cafe. While there, we played a game of Dark Gothic. We all lost when the Shadows filled up in a sudden hurry. Quite the shame, as I was super close to winning, and probably could have done so in one to two more turns.


The next weekend:

Battlestar Galactica board game with old friends I hadn't seen in forever: Andy Collins, Gwen Kestrel, and Greg Collins (and their friend Ben). I was a frakking toaster the whole time, and I successfully destroyed the pathetic human fleet by breaking their morale. It was a solid game, and the humans came very close to winning. Possibly the closest game I've ever played of BSG. 

After that, we played Between Two Cities, which is a very clever cooperative drafting and tile-placement game where you're building a city together with the player on your right and simultaneously building another city together with the player on your left. I didn't do so good at this, coming in 4th out of 5th place. I love the entire-cooperative nature of the mechanics, and how that's counter-weighted by the scoring. It's a game that exists in a very unique head space. I want the players adjacent to me to do well, and any other players to do poorly, but I don't really have a way cause that second part. There's probably some deeper strategy I'm not seeing yet, but I can at least admire the novelty of this truly unique game.

We followed that up with Royal Turf. It's a Knizia game about horse racing and betting on horse racing. In the abstract the topic doesn't sound interesting to me at all, like if you said "want to play a game about racetrack betting?" I'd reply with "not unless it's Royal Turf". Every time I play it I feel like a) I'm really not very good at it,  and b) the game is surprisingly fun and enjoyable despite all that.

Then the wonderful Bobbie Hyde showed up to pick me up and we talked her into playing a round of Decrypto. It's a team code-guessing game, and we both really enjoyed it. If I didn't already own Codenames Duet, I would immediately rush out and by Decrypto. I feel Decrypto is a much better game than normal Codenames, but that makes it about equal with Codenames Duet (which is closer to codenames, but also generally a vastly improved version of Codenames itself).

So, it's been a summer cavalcade of new games and old friends. Pretty damn cool way to spend the days. And it ain't over yet. This weekend is PAX West! I will once again be running demos of Flying Frog adventure games. Sleep is for the weak.

Sunday, May 27, 2018

Urchin Character Sheets

Doing a bit of spring cleaning today, I stumbled across some old Urchin character sheets. The character creation rules for the Urchin RPG require you to use a piece of trash for your character sheet, which is why these are on egg cartons, dog food packages, tin foil from left-overs, and old holey socks. In the game you play crazy people living in the rail and steam tunnels under New York City. Each character starts with 3 Talents, which are defined by the player. These talents are very open-ended, and tend to be both humorous and bizarre. Here's a photo of the party:
As part of my ongoing efforts to de-clutter my home and life, I am now going to return these character sheets to the trash from whence they were born.

Tuesday, October 6, 2015

Recent Gaming 9-29 to 10-5

#WhatDidYouPlayMondays #GameLog for 9/29 - 10/5/2015

Card Games: Dark Gothic / Colonial Horror, and Guillotine
RPG / Story Game: Forget Me Not
Board Game: Shadows of Brimstone
Video Game: Sir, You Are Being Hunted!

On Friday I played Dark Gothic with the cards mixed in from the Colonial Horror stand-alone expansion, as well as the smaller Smuggler's Den, Curse of the Werewolf, Dryad of Harper's Wood, and Forgotten Island expansions. I played this with Mark Walters and Laura Mortensen. It was a tense game that ended in defeat for all of us, as our second Villain was The Necromancer. He has two powers that make Minions move to the Shadows, and we kept drawing new Minions to replace the old ones. My deck was really working well and I had multiple turns where I had the cards in hand to defeat the Necromancer but couldn't because his Fight ability would cost us the game. Our bad luck in top-decking only Minions for two full rounds around the table eventually doomed the town of Shadowbrook.



Guillotine is more or less light filler, but it's always an enjoyable way to cap off an evening when the brain power or energy is starting to run low. Long enough to wind down properly, short and light enough to not wear out it's welcome as you do so. We play with the house rule that starting hands are only 3 cards, instead of 5. I first invoked that house rule at least a decade ago when doing demos at the game store I used to run, with the intention of making it easier on new players and speeding up the demos. What I found was that it actually enhanced the game greatly, and I've used that rule every since. With a full hand of 5 cards, there's often a card or two that you never feel the need to use all game long because you've got better options (so they just sit there dead in your hand). 3 cards to start opens up the need to occasionally play one of the weaker cards, and makes it feel more challenging. In the process it provides a little more variety to play experience, which is a good thing when you've had the game in your collection for 10 or 15 years. This time, Mark won, and Laura and I were tied for second place just behind him. 

On Monday I got together with Mark, Laura, Erik and Devon at Card Kingdom, and we played a fun RPG / Story Game called Forget Me Not. It was a riot. Our plot was over-the-top and our characters masticated all over the scenery. The Sheriff was crazy, the local avant-garde artist was murderous and possibly even crazier then the Sheriff, and eventually most of the town was driven just as batty as them by ergot poisoning at the bake sale (or the need for revenge). Very goofy and hectic. Pretty far from the tone of the source material (it reads as basically an unlicensed Twin Peaks RPG), but so damn much fun! I really love the way the randomized pregens and randomized subplots gives the game a solid structure, but mixes it up from one play to the next. Hugely enjoyable. 


On Thursday I went up to Flying Frog Productions' studio to help with playtesting and proof-reading of top-secret Shadows of Brimstone expansions. That's all I'm allowed to say about that at the moment, other than "OMG you guys, there is so much cool stuff coming up for Shadows of Brimstone! Trust me, you're gonna love it!"

Speaking of which, on Saturday and Sunday I spent a little time each night assembling miniatures for my own personal copy of Shadows of Brimstone. These were GenCon preview figures, stuff that will eventually show up in Wave(s) 1.5 or 2 of the Kickstarter. I built the Serpentmen of Jargono and the Masters of the Void deluxe enemy sets, and the Scourge Rats enemy set. The Serpentmen come with a Shaman who has magic trinkets and a deck of spells, and despite the name they are not purely restricted to Jargono (they can and do show up in the mines). The Masters of the Void has some sorcerers that I like to call the KKKultists of KKKthulhu. Tentacles protruding from creepy hoods. They also have a spell deck. The two spellcasting Enemy types each has a very different feel to their magic (and the "AI" that determines how they act each turn), and they really shake up the game quite nicely. Masters of the Void also comes with some other (non-spellcaster) figures that have mechanics that kind of invert which characters are likely to be effective in the fight. The high-initiative xp-gobblers in the party will have a hard time hurting Void Hounds, and the slower PCs will be able to claim a larger-than-normal share of the glory. Scourge Rats aren't nearly as "sexy" as either of those two sets, but they're mechanically simpler and seemed like a good choice to balance out the extra complexity I'd just added with the deluxe spellcasters. I've got several more sets to break out and assemble in the near future, but decided that I could play a session or two with just these three expansions (plus the two core sets and Caverns of Cynder) before I needed to add in more.

That decision left me with an hour or two open at the end of each of those nights to play a video game to unwind. I chose Sir, You Are Being Hunted! which I picked up inexpensively as part of a Humble Indie Bundle this week. It's sort of like a first-person shooter, except it's more about stealth than combat. That, or I'm just really bad at the combat parts. You're on a random archipelago that feels very British, and (as the name implies) you're being hunted by prim and proper robots. I am _so_ terrible at this game, but it's fun enough I'm sure I'll give it another go sometime soon.

Friday, November 14, 2014

Blink, and the Age of Villainy is gone

Continuing the tale of my second game ever of How To Host A Dungeon.  In part one, the Dark Elf cities of Kharsoum and Leyban (and the Colony of Silla) burned themselves out in a hurry, and then a huge earthquake shattered the rock around them. In the second act, various monsters moved in to the ruins, and were hunted mercilessly by parties of roving adventurers. In this chapter, a new villain arises, shakes up the dungeon a bit, and then meets a quick demise. In the end, though, I've got a pretty cool map that I could use for D&D as the basis of a old-school dungeon with a rich history. So that's cool.

Link to First Post. Link to Second Post. (Click here for Index of all my How To Host A Dungeon articles.)

Here's the map as we last saw it:

Picking A Good Villain:

There’s four Villain options in the rules: the Thought Lord Cult, the Liche King, the Alpha Villain, and the Dungeon Master. You can either roll randomly, or pick the one that seems best suited to your map.

Our map is a little tricky. On average, we would have expected to see 1.3 adventuring parties in the first 8 turns of the Age of Monsters. Instead, we rolled up 3 parties, the last of whom wiped out most of the monsters on the map, and hoovered up most of the treasure. Whatever Villain we add is going to be facing serious resource shortages, and not have much of a buffer between them and any further do-gooder adventuring parties.

There aren’t enough monsters to fuel the Thought Cult’s sacrifices. It would die off very quickly.

The starting position (largest empty room) for the Dungeon Master is too close to the surface, and likely to result in a long unproductive battle of attrition with the Count that eats up all the resources and leaves the DM too vulnerable. The very first of the mandatory yearly Adventuring Parties of the Age of Villainy would almost certainly wipe the DM out.

I could make Count Laventhorpe an Alpha Villain, but there’s some potential issues with the way his “Zone of Control” would bounce around whenever Adventurers tried to kill him, thanks to the rules that I made up for him when a rolled a “12: Create your own” on the Alpha Predator chart. As a Minion of the Liche King his powers would still be interesting, but not likely to break the game the way they would if I made my unkillable Count into the big bad.


A Liche-King could work, with either Count Laventhorpe or the Magma Spirits as the Liche King’s primary Minion. It would be a slow start, due to the dungeon being cash-poor, and having very few tombs (one in Leyban, and if you’re generous the vampire’s coffin could count as a tomb - in fact, the version I put up on the How To Host A Dungeon Wiki specifically labels those escape rooms as Tombs). It's probably the best official option, but boy is it likely to make for long slow burn that takes forever to get anywhere. I'd rather save the Liche-King for use in some future tomb-ier map.


Thinking outside the box, another option would be to assume that last Adventuring Party was corrupted by the Great Flail of Melancholy they found in the Temple to Dame Chaos, and that one of them became the new Dungeon Master. This would start the DM with a lot of extra treasure, since they'd picked up 6 treasures via questing and pillaging. I would have to break the rules of placement as well, putting the DM’s HQ in old Kharsoum instead of the larger room abandoned by the vampire. While this is stretching the rules quite a bit to the benefit of the Villain, they’d also be facing a high difficulty due to how well-developed the surface kingdom is. (If the DM miraculously met his army size trigger on turn one, he’d still lose the war. He has to weaken the humans before facing them in the final confrontation if he wants to win.) I think this is the most interesting option. We want the game to be exciting, and this will do it. Thankfully, the game encourages you to ignore the dice if a more interesting choice is calling to you.


Age of Villainy, Year 1: 

I named the villain Elzulgur Melanquish, Master of Dungeons. I rolled up his name from a mishmash of charts in Gary Gygax’s Extraordinary Book of Names. Elzulgur was the fighter of the adventuring party that just smashed it's way through the underworld. Only he and the party's wizard had survived, and they were both a little shadier than their companions. He was corrupted by the Great Flail. Hearing the voice of Dame Chaos herself, he returned to the ruins of Kharsoum, intent on restoring them to their former greatness.  Perhaps it should have been the Great Flail of Nostalgia, not Melancholy.

As Dungeon Master, he renovates old Kharsoum into a spiffy new HQ. He spends some money hiring human mercenaries (other adventurers he’s worked with before).  Renovates the Old Elf Road going west. The DM enslaves the Earthmen. Since this only used half his allowed expansion for the turn, the DM also constructs a new tunnel to the lower section of the Abandoned Merfolk Mines, and drains a room. The digging goal is to connect his new HQ to the Temple of Dame Chaos that changed his life. He also spends 1 treasure building a Laboratory for the Wizard from his old party.

Meanwhile, the Surface Humans get the fifth person in the castle, and send him out to make another farm. As mentioned in a previous post, I now suspect the rules actually intend you to create new peasants to run the farms, but I’d already run 6 or 7 turns the wrong and slower way, so I’ve decided to stand by it. I can see what the difference is like on my next play. This is not the sort of game where you stress yourself out trying to do everything just right. Tweaking and experimenting is much of the fun.

The Earthmen increase in number instead of taking a normal turn. They have been dominated by Elzulgur Melanquish, but he has not yet begun conscripting them for his army.

The tunnels between Count Laventhorpe and everyone else are longer than his hunting range. However, the way I wrote up the Earthmeld special ability for him allows him to encounter either the new human farm or the earthmen by melding through the dirt. (In hindsight, this may be over-powered and have some odd corner cases. The version I put up on the How To Host A Dungeon wiki yesterday left that part out to compensate. I’m gonna stick to my guns for what's left of this game, and see how it plays.) I could decide his target with a die roll, but I figure he probably hungers for human blood more than Earthmen dirt. Though there are a ton of humans on the surface, each construction has it’s own strength. So the farms are relatively vulnerable (+1 to the roll) whereas the castle and city are much stronger (currently +4 or +2 on their defense rolls). The minor lordling who was just recently awarded a small fief is devoured in the night.

The Magma Spirits continue to make their way up towards the Mithril ore. This “should” have been a random tunnel exploration, which could have sent them in any one of 9 (or more) directions. They were just so close, and given that they are fire-based mining creatures, it seemed hard to justify them choosing to go somewhere other than the direction that had an eternal flame and ore worth mining. It wasn’t in their zone of control at the start of the turn, so they can’t start mining it just yet, but it’s there for next time. While I was at it, I added some stairs to the shafts they’d dug. If they’re capable of mining, the "spirits" must have physical forms and thus probably legs. Plus, I think it just looks better with stairs.


Adventurers!


At the end of every year in the Age of Villainy, an Adventuring Party shows up to seek out the big bad. Right off the bat I roll up a party of 6, which is quite possibly enough to end the game this turn if they go down the right tunnels. There was some temptation to ditch that roll, but no matter what happened, I knew this map was going to be hard on the Villain.
I decide to let random luck play it’s part, and the dice send them toward good ol’ Count Laventhorpe first. Perhaps on their way to the dungeon they passed by the bloody massacre at the farm house. They defeat him handily and take his treasure, but the Count escapes with his unlife once again by melding with the earth.
With everything cleared on the first level, I move the Adventurers to the waterfalls chokepoint, and roll to see which of many passages down they take after that. They go down the old Dark Elf exploratory shaft above Leyban and from there into the abandoned Merfolk canals, much like the previous party that ended up corrupted by Dame Chaos.
That leads down into the merfolk city that was built on the ruins of the Dark Elf Slave Pits, all of which the Villain just recently tunneled into, drained, and remodeled.
The adventurers push their way into the Dungeon Master’s Headquarters. They shatter his mercenary army in the first battle. Then they hunt down the DM himself, and take him out in a climactic confrontation. The Age of Villainy didn’t last very long at all. That's what he gets for building a crummy laboratory and expanding tunnels instead of focusing all his efforts on traps. Poor dumb DM.

There’s still a few monsters on the map, but they’re all lawfully-aligned, and very weak compared to the adventurers, so there doesn’t seem to be much point in playing out whatever clean-up might happen. Either the magma spirits hire the adventurers to kill the earthmen, or the earthmen hire the adventurers to kill the Count, whom they can’t reach. There’s at best a 1 in 12 chance the adventurers will lose to the strongest of the monster groups at this stage, and even if they do the game is basically over.


I mean, umm... hooray! Good triumphed, and the villains were vanquished! No questions about where my sympathies lay. No, sir-ee. Just another good guy here. No need to cast Detect Alignment when I'm around.



Post-Mortem Report:

Fun game. Cool map. Documenting it for the web was a bit of work, but enjoyable.

The game worked best when it was inspiring me. Sometimes the random charts were perfect and provided unexpected results that really shook things up. Other times, I was better off over-ruling the charts and making my own calls. To the game designer’s credit, the rules encourage you to do just that.

Relying too much on the charts, or the strictest interpretations of the instructions didn’t always pay off. The Plague and Fate caves went unused the entire time, because with all those interconnected tunnels there was little reason for anyone to dig. I could have fudged the earthquake rolls, or taken more liberties in early turns to direct various groups into those hazards. Next time that sort of situation comes up, I probably will. Since this was only my second time playing the game, I wanted to see if any of the random rolls would actually hit those hazards, but I can see now that with certain layouts that just won’t be likely. I also might draw those caves larger, as being just 1 or 2 beads in size makes them not much more than a needle in a haystack.

Delver Groups in particular were an area that was a little disappointing as written. That last bit of mithril sat out there forever, and when I finally “cheated” to send the magma spirits at it it was too late to matter. This may be just a function of the earthquake creating so many tunnels for them to randomly explore, but that basic scenario seems likely to happen in many games. I'm not sure I'm quite capturing the layering effect of the tracing paper the core rules assume you'll be using instead of a computer. If I was to fade out or partially clog the caverns when new Ages start, there'd be more need for the Delving monsters to tunnel, and that might shake up the map some more. What few complaints I have could also probably be resolved by either fudging rolls more often, or at least weighting my random rolls a bit more. Simply doubling the odds that Delvers will explore any tunnel that leads to ore might well fix it. (I also went to the How To Host A Dungeon Wiki and added a homebrew Delver option that would be a little more aggressive about treasure-hunting.) It's easily fixed by any number of possible house-rules, and it's certainly not particularly broken if you don't house-rule. Some maps may even solve this problem on their own by virtue of random luck. Don't let this minor gripe discourage you from giving the excellent game a try.




Using this Map elsewhere:

Here is a version of the map without tokens, in case anyone wants to use it as a basis for their D&D game or something.
The layout during that last turn seems like it has potential in that way. The vampire so close to the surface doesn’t exactly fit the “the deeper you go, the tougher the fights” paradigm of D&D, but other than that it’s set up to fit the laws of drama and provide some meaningful choices to the players. The Magma Spirits will need some fleshing out for an RPG, but the place has tons of history you can draw on. The dungeon is loosely organized into different regions, each with their own theme and flavor. There’s a couple of Dark Elf treasures waiting to be discovered, as well as little Timmy’s tragic remains. Few actual PC parties will be willing to take the underwater routes that my adventuring parties in the HTHAD game loved to access, but it’s there if they think outside the box (and comes complete with the body to loot if they make their spot checks while down there). You could bend the history a little bit to justify leaving a few merfolk, dark elves, trolls, etc (and as whatever species the feral slave beast were) on the map. The rough caverns and waterfalls are probably worth breaking out the hardcore dungeoneering rules for your system of choice, if such things exist. Or you could hand-wave that difficulty by saying the adventurers who came before you left ropes or ladders in place (like the little one I drew in the Misty Vale).

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

The Age Of Adventurers

Last week I started a digital game of How To Host A Dungeon, and posted the first few eras on this blog. Today, I'll continue that through the Age of Monsters.

Link to previous post. (Click here for Index of all my How To Host A Dungeon articles.)
Here's how the map looked after the Great Disaster that ended the Dark Elf Civilization of Kharsoum Leyban:

Everything is focused on the lower right of the map, and the Dark Elf palaces of Leyban, Kharsoum, and Silla are in a terrible shambles.

Now we start the Age of Monsters.

We had a few Monster Groups already on the map.

Descendents of the Rebel Elves: Officially these were Wandering Monsters, but I decided to fudge the rules a bit and make them Chaotic / Breeders. This seemed a good compromise to making them interesting and competitive without causing them to just repeat the mistakes of their kind. (If I’d made them Delvers like I proposed last week, they would have abandoned the colony at the end of the turn for lack of resources.)

Feral Slave Beasts: Straight-up Wandering Monsters. Nothing special about them, and I'm not entirely certain what sort of beasts they were.

The treasures on the map are mostly just random trinkets left over from the Dark Elf colonies, but T1 is a magic item named The Great Flail of Melancholy, and T2 is The Mithril Veil that adorns the statue of Dame Chaos in her Shrine in the ruins of Silla.

As we explore the timeline and maps of the Age of Monsters, we'll see that it's really the NPC Adventuring Parties that truly shape this Age.


Age of Monsters, Year 1

A variety of Monster Groups arrive and make their initial lairs. At this point, the turns start to get complicated.

The first to arrive is the Surface Kingdoms of man. They build a Keep atop the cliff, and name it Castle Laventhorpe.

Monsters appear at random starting locations, and as it turns out I rolled up one of the flooded chambers in the middle of the map, from when the river got redirected. When something like that happens you've got a couple options. You can reroll, you can assume they build a bridge or drain the room, or you can consult the optional water and magma monster chart.

I did the later, and got Merfolk. They count as Delving monsters, and will rework the natural caverns around them into architectural marvels... which I'll probably turn into simple bubble-shaped chambers to keep things quick(ish) and easy. Merfolk may leave the water, but they always flood the rooms they choose to live in.


Next up are Earthmen in the lower left corner. Not "bring us to your leaders, earthman", but presumably some sort of elemental creature. The rules are pretty short, and don't waste words on detailed descriptions of the races, but I picture them as little clay people with heads not unlike diminutive Easter Island statues. These ones are Lawful in alignment. They count as Breeders, but I've decided to have them smooth the natural rock where-ever they go. When I drew in the earthquake caverns I made it very jagged, and I'd like the Earthmen to use their supernatural powers to wear it down a bit.

Lastly, there's a Vampire in the old dry riverbed. I was rolling for an Alpha Predator, and got a 12, which is 'create your own'. So I had to make up some minor rules for him. His alignment is "Hungry" and works for the most part like any other Alpha. However, he cannot cros running water in the same tunnel or room that he's in. If he ends his turn on the surface (which is unlikely) he'll die from sun exposure. He has typical D&D vampire powers to turn into a cloud of gas or various rodents, or to meld with the earth, and regenerate. So if anything would kill him, he instead moves straight down until the next empty room, or makes his own chamber after a 1/2 finger's length of earth-melding. He only really dies if this puts them in water, magma, or off the bottom of the map. Vampires can pass freely through raw earth and rock, encountering targets within range regardless of the walls between them. Those targets cannot choose to encounter him on their turns unless they have a path to his current lair.

I could have made a case for taking full turns with the Rebel Elves and the Slave Beasts, but their turns would be pretty minor in this set up, so I let it go for now.

I did however add some minor cosmetic details to the map, like white foam on the waterfalls.


Age of Monsters, Year 2: 

The yearly event charts tell me a statue is discovered! I decide it's a Statue of the Earth God whose earthquake destroyed the Dark Elves. A huge Easter-Island-style rock head falls from the ceiling where it had watched them with contempt.
Each turn you roll on an event chart. Usually it generates some sort of monster group entering the map, but sometimes it does something else colorful, like reveal a previously unknown statue.
The Humans build a farm.
  The Elven Rebels accomplish very little. They breed, but then suffer losses to starvation. They expand their territory just a little, just past the edges of old Kharsoum.
  Slave Beasts from wander through the old Silla mines to the waterfall.
  Merfolk mine into the old mithril deposit, in an organized grid. They also smooth out their chambers and smooth/flood the areas on their doorstep. While this area had been previously mined, I figured having lava pour through it probably made the ore liquify and relocate. Getting one more ore out of deposit seems fine, but I probably won’t let them remine the other two parts. Let’s call this vein played out.
  Earthmen have no exits, so they get motivated and head towards the Statue of their Creator god at a rapid pace. They smooth all the rough stone they pass. They are skilled enough to mine past the waterfall without flooding the tunnels they connect to. They also technically breed and starve for net zero population growth.
  The Vampire hunts unsuccessfully, and relocates his lair to different cave in hopes of finding prey.
  The Elves and Earthmen seem destined for conflict, but it could be several turns off. The Merfolk are probably in the strongest position at the end of the year, despite their initial mine having dried up.


Age of Monsters, Year 3:

This year sees the arrival of Human Miners near the middle of the surface layer. They are separate from surface kingdoms, but I’m interpreting the intent that they are allied or at least at peace with the castle. The rules could probably be clearer there, but the games light enough I can just rule as I see fit.

Surface Kingdoms build a second farm.
   Rebels breed and starve.    Slave Beasts stay put.
   Merfolk create a series of locks and fishladders downriver from the city. 
   Earthmen slowly expand their territory, zero population growth.
   The Vampire, so hungry, returns to his original lair. The miners are not yet close enough for him to Earthmeld to them, but they will soon.
   Human miners dig down, unaware of the danger below them.


Age of Monsters, Year 4: 

Arrival of Trolls. Two immediately team up in the old dry river (their random placement put them adjacent to each other). The third shows up in deep caverns, and encounters Rebel Elves. The lone troll invader is immediately driven off, at the cost of half the elven numbers.
Humans build a third farm.
   Rebel Elves breed, and claim the Troll treasure. Bolstered by the captured resources, they restore their numbers and extend their perimeter closer to the Trolls they just chased out.
   Slave Beasts stay put.
   Merfolk extend east of their mines. They suffer some losses to slave beasts, but seal off and flood more chambers to expand their territory.
    Earthmen extend slowly. As breeders, they move fastest when there's only one direction to go, and spread more slowly when they border a lot of rooms or tunnels.
    Vampire was going to eat the miners, but since there’s now Trolls available, that’s a tastier snack. The trolls can’t hurt it. Literally half the trolls retreat, and then grow back their other halves.
    Human Miners break into tunnels, and encounter the Vampire. They recognize him to be Count Laventhorpe, the great grandfather of the man who built the castle. He eats one of them.
   Dumbstruck and still regenerating from the recent Vampire attack, the two trolls in the west do nothing. The troll in the east heads further away from the elven rebels.


Age of Monsters, Year 5:

A Party of Adventurers, three in number, enter the mines in search of loot and experience! They head down the mines, and “kill” Count Laventhorpe. The Count kills one of their party before going down. His Earthmeld power saves him. Per the rules I wrote up for it when I rolled the “12” that created him, he melds down a half-finger from his previous position, creating a new cavern there. This must be where his coffin was hidden. His zone of control is reset to the smaller cave.

The continue on to the Trolls, whom they dispatch and burn out. I roll on the Minor Features table, and discover the room where they built the bonfire for all the troll bits is forever after known as The Forsaken Chamber.

The fight leaves just a single Adventurer alive, so he gathers up the available treasure and leaves. He probably retires and becomes an innkeeper in some module somewhere.

The Rebel Elves actually increase their numbers, fueled by tasty Troll-flesh.
   Slave Beasts remain entranced by the waterfall.
   Merfolk expand their lock system further West.
   Earthmen expand in four directions, smoothing and expanding the tunnels as they go. They run into the Elves. After a brief hit and run skirmish, they steal the troll-goods from the Rebels.
   Count Laventhorpe melds through the earth in the shortest distance, and attacks the miners. It doesn’t go so well for the Count, who is driven off further down the halls. The area around his coffin is too dangerous, so he camps out in the smoke-stained Forsaken Chamber.
   Human miners dig out the large cavern that had been the Count’s previous rooms. They do not find his coffin.



Age of Monsters, Year 6:

Arrival of the Magma Spirits. They burrow up from deep below the ruins of Leyban, and create a new Magma Pool at their start point.

Humans build a fourth farm, and I put this one at the base of the cliffs near the old earthquake cracks. Then I noticed the use of “place” versus “move” in the paragraphs for the surface kingdoms. That subtle wording suggests that the process is different when creating a new farm instead of merely populating one that had been raided by monsters (which hasn't happened this game). I decide to keep going with the rules as I had been doing, but resolve to handle things the other (faster) way in my next game. For now, this means the knights still aren’t ready to raid the underdark.

Rebel Elves are feeling penned in by the Earthmen and Trolls, so they attempt to dig an escape route to the old ruins of Leyban. They are surprised to discover Leyban’s flooded status. The river briefly diverts into old Kharsoum, and down the Old Elven Road. In the Chaos, the Elves steal about 1/3 of the wealth of the Merfolk when it washes into them. They lose a lot of territory to flooding.
   The Merfolk go to war with the Elves, and recover their treasure. Meanwhile the Merfolk engineers build a dam and a reservoir system to bring the river and the flooding back under control.
   Earthmen raid the Elves, but find they no longer have anything worth taking.
   The Trolls are washed down the Old Elf Road by the flooding.
   Count Laventhorpe attacks the Miners, who abandon much of their tools and wealth to escape.
   Miners expand away from the Vampire for a while, but when that fails to turn up any ore or  gems, they eventually work up the courage to try to hunt the old Count down. It goes poorly for them, and many miners die or quit and move away.
   Magma Spirits expand up from their starting pool, and create a large temple to house the Earth God Statue.


Age of Monsters, Year 7:

I roll another Adventuring Party, but it's of minimum size (1 adventurer). A brave young soul from the farming village at the base of the cliff braves the caves near his home. Young Timothy falls down the well. Lassie the Feral Slave Beast runs off to get help. Or rather, as he is an Adventuring Party with only 1 member, and the Beast is a Wandering Monster, they destroy each other.
Any time the last of a monster group is wiped off the map, you can optionally roll on the Minor Features table to see what legacy they leave behind on the map. I rolled the Ever-Burning Flame, which I may place anywhere in the Feral Beasts former zone of control. Little Timmy must have brought a torch with him for light, and it probably sparked a natural gas explosion that killed the Feral Beasts. There’s some crack through which gas continues to flow and burn. That this is so close to the waterfall is unexpected, but not impossible (especially in a fantasy world).
A Treasure is left behind by the Adventuring Party. It’s some identifying keepsake, such as a locket with a picture of Timothy’s mother. I mark it on the map as Treasure T3.
 
The Humans at the castle organize a rescue party for poor little lost Timothy. This is, after all, the turn where they finally are supported and have 4 knights available. They head down the chasm at the base of the cliff and wander about for a while. The Excursion doesn’t find Timmy, or his locket, but they do find some decadent Dark Elf arts and crafts in the ruins of one of the old Silla palaces. They call this a rousing success, and the exciting rumors of buried treasure attracts more humans. The city of Drowfalls is founded before the end of the year. The local well, and city hall’s dungeon, both open into the underground river.


It's a year of war and daring raids. Rebel Elves retake a tiny bit of territory lost to the flooding, and then turn their attention to the Earthmen. Their raids recover the troll-wealth. The Merfolk push west, extending their locks right down to the Earthmen habitat. The resulting border dispute has high casualties. Earthmen then attack the Rebel Elves, and the battles are quite bloody. Both of these civilizations are getting very small, and the merfolk aren't that far behind them.

Count Laventhorpe eats the last miner. (As this is the last of the miner group, I again roll on the Minor Features chart.) The place where he died is forever after supernaturally cold.
Troll stays put and do nothing. Stupid troll.
Magma Spirits head up the hall towards the Mithral.



Age of Monsters, Year 8:

   Yet another adventuring party comes to the dungeon. (This is the third time I’ve rolled a “6” on the yearly event chart, having done so on turns 5, 7 and now 8.  Our dungeon is running a little low on monsters and treasures at this point. This is very different from the game I played on paper.) This adventuring party has 4 members.
   The Adventuring Party travels from Drowfalls Dungeon through the underground river to the old Dark Elf Exploratory Shaft (instead of the waterfalls) down to the river again, and then over to the Merfolk dam. The Merfolk are Lawful, so they give the party a Quest instead of fighting them. The adventurers are guided through the flooded tunnels to battle the Elvish Rebels in the ruins of old Kharsoum. The Adventurers slaughter the remaining Dark Elves, and take their Troll-Goods. The return for the quest rewards, so the Merfolk pay them a Treasure.
   Setting out again, the adventuring party follows the Old Elf Road toward Leyban. The Troll on the route kills one of them before they destroy it.
   The Troll had been holding up in a place called the Misty Vale. It’s apparently a cavern that had eroded when the area had flooded in Year 6, rendered steamy by the magma pool just below it. (This was created by the Minor Features Chart).
   So then I remember that I needed to roll a Minor Feature for the Elvish Rebels, too. The roll produces a “Bed Chamber”. How very Dark-Elven. No wonder the rebels failed to spread their culture or do much of anything but breed. They converted one of the ancient houses of Kharsoum into a giant orgy pad. I expand the size of the room a bit, and give it a vaulted ceiling.
   The adventurers head over to the Magma Spirits, who are surprisingly lawful, and so they give the Adventurers a Quest, too. They are sent to attack the Merfolk, whom they’d previously done quest-work for. That’s player characters for you. Killing every NPC they meet. The adventurers commit mer-genocide, and loot the fishtanks. They do lose one of their own in the process, reducing their group down to 2 adventurers. The Magma Spirits fork over some treasure in payment.
    The two quests, and all the back and forth involved, has resulted in the Adventuring Party traveling through the narrow, rough tunnel connecting the Merfolk and Rebel Elves areas a minimum of five times.
    I roll on the Minor Features chart for the third time this turn, and end up with a the result “A Cask of Amontillado”. This classic Poe reference is not actually on the default chart, but was added as a consequence of a previous play session. Every time you roll on this particular chart, you’re encouraged to cross out the entry you use and replace it with an entry of your own devising. I’d seeded this one onto the chart during my first play of the game on paper last week, and am surprised to have it show up again so soon. So I cross it off, and add it to the map. The merfolk managed to seal an adventurer in a trap room and flood it. I place this just off the narrow flooded passage they went through so many times. It seems like a good place for an ambush or trap.
   Next (and finally) the adventurers head though the Torture Pit into the old Temple to Dame Chaos in what’s left of the ruins of Leyban. They get their hands on the Great Flail of Melancholy. This is pivotal. They’ve now gained six treasures in the course of this adventure, which is enough to trigger the transition to the Age of Villainy. I’m thinking they probably get corrupted by the horrible things they’ve seen and done. We’ll deal with that in the next installment.

The transition ends the Age of Monsters before the turn is finished, so the Earthmen, Vampire, and Magma Spirits all lose their turns for this year.

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

How To Host A Societal Collapse

I spent most of yesterday playing a game called How To Host A Dungeon. It's part board game, part drawing experiment, and part tool for designing a D&D dungeon or campaign.

It's made by a local game designer here in Seattle, but you can pick up the PDF right now via the Bundle of Holding for a cheap price along with several other GM-ing goodies.

To play How To Host A Dungeon, you roll on a series of charts that give you loose instructions on what to draw. Following that guidance creates a map, or more accurately a series of maps, of successive layers of civilization and tunneling in a fantasy kingdom. Empires rise and fall, wandering monsters move in, and in the end either an intrepid band of heroes braves the dungeon to slay the big bad, or some horrible monster conquers the world. It's pretty cool pass-time, essentially a pen-and-paper analog to Dwarf Fortress. Sort of Dungeon Designer meets Blank White Cards.

Rather than just post my rather cluttered map from yesterday (rife with beginner's mistakes), I figured I'd actually take a few hours to generate a spiffy new map using Pixlr, a free online photoshop-like drawing toolset. Putting it in layers allows me to save my progress at many stages, and simplifies the process for when one in-game civilization collapses and a new one builds over their ruins.

Getting The Lay Of The Ground: 

For the initial rolls of Primordial Pre-History, I rolled up an Underground River with several caves (I kept rolling the same entry), plus some Mithral veins on the far right of the map, and a series of dangerous natural caverns bearing plague, magma, and a mysterious prophecy of societal collapse. This map has some serious potential.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-zfD7yCT67NWgt8Ckzp29Q1jcP2ujml1aoT-R8vXFvf6vjiLhqv6tjusmpwCYF1qZYCCCMEhtrNpZmJP5E4VpQEDgXs8NUShq-j5PaPRlpuob1ugrBLX37m-hLtrlLu718cmPz4t3nGMO/s1600/DE1+-+Primordial.jpg
Legend: Brown is dirt or rock. Blue is sky or underground river, depending on placement. Pale orange is the interior space of a cavern. Everything else is labeled if you zoom in. It's not much to look at yet.

I'm a little worried about the tight clustering of the Mithral to one side of the map. In my other game I found all the action for the first three Ages happened right around the minerals, making it very crowded while the other half the map was left empty. This was problematic when working on a single page paper map, but I think it's not an issue if using pixlr layering (or the tracing paper approach supported by the rules). 


HTHAD - Year Zero
The pink circles are groups of Dark Elf Nobles and Slaves.
I name the starting civilization The Three Houses of Kharsoum, not realizing how quickly that number will be rendered inaccurate. The only other time I played I began with Dwarves, and they ran a great many turns with a significant dynasty. This time, I'm starting with Dark Elves, who seem a bit a less stable. (Just for fanboy fun, I've chosen to render all their constructions and tokens in a purple and pink motif marginally reminiscent of Games Workshop's Dark Elves.)



History of The Three Houses of Kharsoum The Great City of Leyban:




Year One – The City of Kharsoum founds the Colony of Leyban, which prospers and tortures. This is a straight forward (but ill-considered) start, where the overpopulated and under-supplied City flails about trying to establish itself. 

The purple line across the bottom of the screen is the underground road that the Dark Elves use to travel to more distant places.


Year Two – Kharsoum founds the Colony of Silaa. This leaves too an unstable slaves to nobles ratio, and the city falls to Revolt. (As a side note, this is destined to happen to any Dark Elf starting city that isn't directly attached to a mineral vein. Even if it is, you'd have to interpret the Colony rules as applying to the City in order to avoid an early Revolt. I'd be willing to do so, but I didn't realize how badly the first city gets screwed by not being attached directly to a mineral vein. Dark Elves neither plan for the future nor play well with others.)

Leyban assumes the mantle of the capitol (though technically this should have happened later in the turn, and I accidentally jumped the gun), and builds a great memorial tomb for what bodies are recovered. Temples and Shrines are constructed in Leyban and Silaa in attempts to appease "Dame Chaos", their fickle goddess. 

I decide to use the Named Treasures optional rule because it's flavorful and fun. Silaa, still being prosperous and rather distant from the troubles at Kharsoum, produces an exquisite Mithril Veil for the goddess statue in their shrine. Leyban is a little moodier and worried about slave revolt, so they commission their best artisan to craft the The Great Flail of Melancholy.

An exploratory shaft is dug from Leyban towards the surface. With the “Fate” cave and the magma chamber hanging over their heads, I decided to choose a random room to start the exploratory tunnel from. They had about a 50% chance of it leading directly to death, but a lucky roll bought them another turn and dig up towards the river instead of somewhere more dire. The tunnel couldn't quite reach the river this turn, so I made it curve, because I liked the idea that the Fate cave would be subtly influencing them as they dug.


Year Three – I forgot to have the City raid the Rebels and convert one of them back into Slaves at the end of the previous turn. Adding that, plus the Nobles and Slaves from the “summer” part of the turn pushed Leyban over the critical population limit. With this trigger in place, their decadence and depravity causes the collapse of their civilization before they could build the late-stage specialized buildings (Arenas, Breeding Pits, or Re-Animation Tanks). The may have dodged the “Fate” cave, but they were still doomed from the start.

Last time I played, my Dwarves stuck around for seemingly forever, covering the map. The Dark Elves were fecund and prolific, but they burned themselves out in less than 3 turns. Good note that the game players very differently in subsequent sessions with different starting civs. 

(Minor tangential gripe  – the game calls these civilization turns' “years”, but I think they'd work better conceptually as “generations”. As neat as the turn-of-the-seasons mechanics is, it only took 3 years to increase the population 5-fold and make the entire journey from founding to collapse into decadence. That's a bit fast, even for Dark Elves.)


Where did all the Elves go?
Dark Elves are sloppy housekeepers. When their civilization dies, they leave behind the named treasures from the Temples, plus 1 extra generic supplies/treasure token per city or colony. They also leave behind a bunch of Feral Slave Beasts in the slave pens. I'm pretty sure these are supposed to be monsters and draft animals, not desperate victims of slavery, so I made a different token for them to distinguish them from the rebel slaves (who were, for the record, in no way inconvenienced by the collapse of the civilization that had previously held them in bondage).

The Great Disaster:

Oopsie! Dame Chaos must have broke something.
When the first civilization collapse happens, time passes and you roll on The Great Disaster table. I rolled up an Earthquake. The earthquake made a series of natural caves and tunnels that are mostly random. The player has some control over them – the two main lines are randomly generated, but you have more control over the little spurs that branch off of them, and just how jagged or straight you want the lines to be. But given the rolls, there was no way the earthquake wasn't going to breach both the magma and the river tunnels. So then you have to make decisions about how (and if) the lava flows and the river is diverted. I chose to not kill or destroy anything left on the map, because at this stage you want lots of plot threads and contenders.

While I was at it, I adjusted the horizon line to go with the Earthquake. Any excuse to make it not just a boring old horizontal horizon is a good one. (The rules provide random horizons, but I rolled up the most minimal one at the start of this session.)

At this point, I'm about ready for the arrival of the Surface Kingdoms and the start of the Age of Monsters. It should be an interesting run going forward, as there's few good treasures clustered on one side, at least one mining site that's still accessible for Delvers (the rules are a little iffy about whether or not the others can be mined again by new races), and some significant peril in the form of wandering monsters and those still unopened death caves. I've run out of free time for the day, though, so it'll have to wait (probably until next week).  Link to second play session post.

Digging In and Getting Invested

It's a little tempting to reclassify the Elven Rebels a "Delver Group" so they'll have a shot at prospering in the next Age. Officially, they're just Wandering Monsters, and as such are unlikely to survive for long. I may fudge their status when I get back to it, depending on which parts of the map generate random monsters in the next phase and just how crowded it gets. Gotta support the underdogs. Honestly, the game is better if “you've got a dog in this fight” and are invested in what happens. It stings a little to watch your favorite civilization meet its fate, but that's kinda what the game is all about, and you could always fudge die rolls if it bothered you.

In my game yesterday, a come-from-behind Lawful Sphinx defeated a hobgoblin tribe, two extraplanar invasions, a very stubborn owlbear, a voracious ancient wurm, and series of adventuring parties to eventually conquer the realm. There were at least a dozen die rolls that could have killed her off, and probably should have, but she won out against all odds.

(Click here for Index of all my How To Host A Dungeon articles.

Thursday, September 4, 2014

Dissecting Psi*Run

Psi*Run is a great little pick-up game that requires no prep work from the GM (other than printing 2N+1 single page documents for the group of N participants to reference mid-game). The PCs have partial amnesia, mysterious powers, and are being pursued. That’s it. Everything else is determined by the players during the game. I do mean players, because, (like Urchin) it’s a game that intentionally takes some of the power usually reserved for GMs and distributes it around the table.

It's a game about an extended chase. You could use the system to tell tales along the lines of Bourne Identity, Logan’s Run, or The Terminator, anything where pursuit is a huge part of the plot. In practice (because there’s no default setting, it’s all improvised, and relies on collaborative story telling) I find you tend to get things more like a gonzo, trippy, four-color version of the X-files. A wild ride, to be sure. The mechanics push you towards this sort of story, with flashy misfiring powers going haywire in nearly every scene.

It’s mostly awesome, but sometimes strains disbelief or kinda fails to come together in the third act. There’s a couple of recurring pitfalls inherent to the system, stemming from the odd mechanical structure and the lack of a single guiding hand at the narrative wheel.  Here’s the problems as I see them:
  • Powers cannot be subtle.
  • The 2nd Act Slump.
  • Die-assignment paralysis.
  • Passive GMing.
Nothing that can’t be overcome with a bit of forethought, but I’d like to discuss them here to aid anyone who’s looking to run the game in the future. The solutions are for the most part fast and easy, and I really like the game overall.


Powers Cannot Stay Subtle.


The most common Psi*Run problem is thankfully a minor one. Despite not being a huge issue, it has come up in at least 4 of the 5 sessions I’ve run, so it deserves some attention. I’m talking about the problem of low-key, non-threatening, and/or passive powers. When someone’s making their Psi*Run character, sometimes they’ll describe a power that doesn’t do much, or shouldn’t realistically endanger anyone, or (going the other direction) is just one giant enigma beyond their faintest understanding.

If the power doesn’t do much, or is _completely_ outside the PC’s control, then they won’t get to roll as many dice and won’t have as much of the spotlight. That part of it is a self-correcting problem, in that most players will quickly figure out that they’ve got to start triggering their own ability… but once you’ve started arbitrarily dictating that your power “randomly” kicks on in the middle of actions, you tend to use it in every single action. “All the time” is better than “none of the time”, but either is missing out on some of the depth of the system. A player who chooses “none of the time” is basically choosing to have a boring game, and missing out on at least half the fun of the setting. Don’t let them do that, GM.  Encourage them to take a more active power, and tell them that the game will run better for everyone if they do.

A related problem (really the second half of the first problem) is what happens when you have one of these low-key or passive powers, and then proceed to assign a “1” die to the Psi category during play. When the dice are arranged in that way, it’s supposed to be lethal and destructive on a grand “would make national news” style. Every single power has the potential to go horribly awry. In recent memory, I’ve seen this happen with powers like “my hands glow different colors” or “I have a 12-foot tongue”. How do those kill dozens? As a GM, I’m willing to roll with it and narrate a crazy overblown moment. Turns out your glowing hands are just the warning lights of a much more deadly power, or your prehensile tongue doesn’t know it’s own (super)strength. Oopsie!

The problem here is that the player may actually want to play someone with subtle low-key powers. If so, they need to never put anything less than a 3 in “Psi” so that nothing over-the-top gets narrated… and that’s really hard to pull off for an entire session unless you’re willing to let something else horrible happen (or willing to never succeed at your goals and never regain lost memories). Player, it’s on you. If you want a subtle power, you just have to accept that the story is going to get dark in other ways. You’re going to fail and you’re going to get hurt, because you don’t have “Psi” available as a place to dump your lowest dice. Subtle powers either become outrageous over time, or they successfully remain understated while everything else bad happens to you all at once. There’s really no other alternatives (unless the dice are abnormally kind). The GM should mention this early on, preferably during character creation, so there’s no unpleasant surprises during play.


The 2nd Act Slump.


The other major problem the game sometimes runs into is a 2nd or 3rd Act slump. The first Act always opens up strong, with character introductions amidst a flaming wreck, and mysterious pursuers right behind you. There’s built in dramatic tension, and we’re all still experimenting with the mechanics, so that first part is golden. Sometimes (2 out of the 5 Psi*Run one-shots I’ve done) the players will, instead of experimenting, just click on the supposed “optimal” plays or get freakishly good rolls. Some people always play to win, even if it’s an RPG.

If you’ve always got 5’s and 6’s to stick in “Harm”, “Chase”, and “Goal”, the PCs can quickly shoot out to 5 or more locations ahead of the chasers. At that point the dramatic tension diminishes significantly. The notecard system clearly tells us exactly where the conspiracy has gotten to, and with no injured characters your dice will probably continue to extend the lead, so things kinda slow down. The players spend a ton of time discussing options at this stage, which is sad because it’s not really a game with a “right answer”.  If there's anything that can ruin a game of Psi*Run, it's the second act slump, but in practice I find even the slumpy games have such good starts that you don't regret playing at all.

There’s three ways to get out of this slump, should it happen during your game.
  • Player “sabotage”
  • Remote villainy
  • Cheating the chase tokens

Player "Sabotage"


The best way is for a player to ‘intentionally sabotage’ the PC’s progress, by sticking low numbers in “harm” or “psi”. The GM has less power in this system than most, so it’s hard for them to create tension or steer the plotline. Players, by putting their dice in “sub-optimal” parts of the resolution sheet, can rapidly change the tone of the game. As a player, if you feel things are starting to slow down, you should grab the reigns, and intentionally screw up. It will rescue a game that’s starting to get away from the GM.

Even if the game has given no indication that things are going wrong, it can be very helpful (to the narrative) if someone purposefully fails or causes trouble from time to time. It helps keep the game tense, and sometimes amazing scenes develop from it.

Remote Villainy


The second best option is for the GM to introduce a subplot about the Pursuers conducting some act of evil at an off-site location. Give the PCs a reason to leave the safehouse they found, and start heading towards an enemy stronghold. If anyone’s Questions implied a friendly NPC is out there, put that NPC in danger. If not, then think big, and engineer things so that the PCs are the only ones who know about the villain’s planned coup or terrorism. If they do dive into the heart of evil, the lack of tension from having such a huge lead on the Chasers may make it anti-climactic, but at least with them rolling dice there’s a chance things will go south. It only takes one bad die roll to suddenly make the game interesting again.

Getting the reaction you want is hard when you’ve got limited narrative windows, and an inability to dictate the danger level. The PCs might call your bluff, and there’s really no consequence if they do so. The Crossroads system in the end game will usually let them hand-wave a solution to your impending apocalypse even if they ignored it all session. GM, don’t restrict yourself to only in-character motivations. Tell the players “I think we’ll probably have a more enjoyable session if you put yourselves back into dangerous situations.” You’ve escaped, caught your breath, and time has gone by. What would your favorite movie heroes do next? Vengeance? Justice? Infiltration? Pick one and do it.

Cheat It


The third option is untested (by me, anyway). That would be to just cheat the chase tokens. There’s no official mechanism by which the GM can ever control the rate of the pursuer’s advance. Officially, the players set the bad guys pacing, and their location on your trail is public knowledge. You really couldn’t get away with suddenly moving the pursuit token 3 or 4 spaces along the trail just to make the game interesting again. Doing so would break the rules, and more importantly it would make the players feel like their previous decisions (about where to go and what dice to assign to various boxes) were meaningless.

What you could do without breaking immersion or rules, is just decouple the Pursuit token from the narration. The Chasers are officially 5 spaces behind you, but that just means the bulk of their forces (enough to turn “Chase” into “Capture”) are trailing that far back. Instead, you introduce scouts or advance units that are much closer. They can’t capture any one, but they provide immediate danger (forcing players to add the “harm” die to every roll) and keep the plot rolling. This still runs a tiny risk of generalized “our actions were meaningless” perception, but certainly less of it would come from arbitrarily moving the markers around. Again, the players could call your bluff and just ignore the scouts with only minimal consequence. As with the “Remote Villainy” option, you may have to get a little meta and ask the players to please try to work with the plot, since they’ve already proven they can beat the mechanics.



Die-Assignment Paralysis.

I’ve noticed that some players take a lot of time agonizing over which dice to assign to which box on the resolution sheet. Sometimes, it feels like the only way to get exactly the result you want is to run a dozen different ordering around in your head and compare them. I understand that, and am known for a bit of analysis paralysis myself in other games. In practice, though, agonizing over the dice in Psi*Run does you no good. It just slows things down for everyone. Also, I find that every time someone has spent a lot of time and energy moving the dice around, they _always_ screw up who gets first say on at least one of the dice. Which means that the thing you just spent 5 minutes silently envisioning won’t actually play out at all like what you pictured.

My advice is to move those dice around fast and not worry too much about the exact numbers.
  1. What’s the most important thing you wanted to accomplish with this roll? It’s usually going to be Goal or Chase/Capture/Disappear, (but sometimes it will be Reveal or Harm instead in certain circumstances) and you’ll generally know which one before you’ve rolled the dice. Slide your highest die onto that first. If nothing calls out to you, just move on to the next step.
  2. Next, look for the 1’s in your remaining dice. You get to ignore one of them (unless you’re impaired) so just set it aside. If there’s any 1’s left over, put them somewhere other than Harm or Chase/Capture/Disappear; most people find that Psi or Reveal is a good sink for that. 
  3. The remaining dice can pretty much be put anywhere and you’ll be equally happy most of the time, so I recommend just move each of them to the box nearest where that die stopped. It’s quick and easy.

A little less than half the dice in the game won’t actually affect the narration at all, so don't sweat it. No matter where you put dice, you will eventually experience a roll where some else getting first say on a single die completely derails what you were trying to do. That’s okay. The game is actually at its best when the unexpected is suddenly happening out of nowhere. Don’t overthink it, just play the dice where they lay. The only thing you’ll ever actually regret is if you put a “1” in the wrong place at the wrong time, so if you get your ones solved the rest can be arbitrary.



Passive GMing.

This is the most minor of the flaws to this game, but I don’t really have a good solution for it. Passive GMing might not be the right word, perhaps it’s more accurate to call it “GM’s feeling of powerlessness”. It's not that you can't or don't do anything as GM, it just feels like that's the case.

Like Urchin, the GM in Psi*Run has very little narrative power. You get to set up the original crash, and cobble together your badguys from the things implied by the PC’s descriptions and Questions. After the game starts, you’re down to just narrating side effects and the degree of success, with the occasional physical description thrown in for flavor. If you try to force a plot, the players will ignore it.  If you try to establish background detail, the players will contradict it when they answer Questions.

If you’re the GM who loves to run taut mysteries or large casts of NPCs, Psi*Run will seem like you don’t have enough to do. If you’re the sort of person who loves GMing more than Playing, Psi*Run is going to feel weird to you. If you’re the inverse - a person who would rather Play than GM, or who likes describing combat scenes colorfully but is intimidated by the idea of generating entire plots - then Psi*Run is right up your alley as a game to break out whenever it’s your turn to provide the evening’s entertainment.

The hardest part of being the Psi*Run GM is choking back the answers you want to give to everyone’s Questions. Only players answer Questions, so the GM never gets a say in anyone’s backstory or mysteries.  I’ve considered changing the “Reveal” box so a 3 result lets the GM answer a Question, but I think that would speed up the game too much for long-term play. For a one-shot it’d probably be fine, you’d use 5 or 6 Questions per player instead of the truncated 4 per player currently recommended for Con games. Perhaps more interesting would be to use the “1” result not the “3” for GM reveals, but in the process encourage the GM to narrate the most punishing Answer they can dream up when those 1s do happen. That would make Reveal much less of a safe die sink, and I haven’t played around with it enough to know if that’s a good or a bad idea. Next time, I guess.


Despite That, It's A Really Good Game


These are small problems with wordy solutions, but not much needed in terms of house-rules. I've run the game 5 times total, with 3 of them being brilliant and the other 2 hitting the second act slump mentioned above but still being mostly solid. It's an easy game to run when you don't have time to prep something more involved, and it's a great icebreaker game for conventions or strangers.

Psi*Run. It's cheap. It's easy. It's fun. Check it out. Link to publisher.