The important elements of combat...

Okay, continuing from my last post, I - for my own benefit really - am going to list what I think the important elements of combat are, and what a good combat system should endeavour to achieve.  I still think I might be trying to reinvent the wheel, as I expect smart people have already done this, and I should just get out there and try some new game systems.  (Have I mentioned the D6 system yet?  Must try the D6 system... I've got a thing for d10s though.  Maybe I'll just read the D6 system, and turn it into the D10 system, to make use of the 126 d10s I have lying about).

So, what must a combat system cater for?

• The skill of the attacker
• The skill of the defender
• Situational modifiers like weather, position, surprise etc.
• Multiple attackers or defenders
• Speed of resolution
• Bleeding rules
• Stun rules
• KO rules
• Death rules
• The random element
• Luck of the Gods (bonuses added by the players when they need them most)
• Armour
• Targeted strikes ("I'm aiming for his legs")

Now, firstly, can all these be distilled (read: simplified) into a single roll?  Probably, yes.  (Note to self: must check out the D6 system).  But if so, how do we cater for complex mechanics like bleeding and stuns?

Okay, for the sake of exploring this notion, I'm going to go out on a limb here.  I'm itching to try a new system (D6! D6!).  And I'm liking the sound of these systems that use multiple dice.  Like.  You have six skills ranks in something, and so you roll six dice. Maybe luck of the gods, can add some extra dice into the mix.  So say you roll eight dice.  Maybe you need to get higher than a 4 to succeed, on any one of them.  For a flat skill check like climbing a wall.  But in combat damage is being dealt.  Hit points are being lost.  Extreme successes should result in criticals - criticals can be extra damage, but they can also be bleeding or stuns.  Screw this post.  I'm going in to town tomorrow and I'm going to buy the D6 system.

And I'm also going to talk to the geeks behing the desk about combat, and see if they suggest any other systems which deal with combat well.

In the meantime, I'm going to find some geeky RPG forum and ask what other people think are good combat systems.

I feel a change coming on.

Combat evolved... or maybe just overhauled

So, as you may have picked up by now. I use my own system.  But I still rely on the odd Rolemaster (RM) table.  I'm going to check out GURPS soon, and probably the D6 system, as I haven't played either of those, but in the meantime, I'm in a position to try out my new combat system.

Combat in RM is a bit too lengthy for me.  Roll d% add your combat score, subtract enemy defense bonus check table, and if that gives you a critical, roll again on the critical and check result.  I've been wanting to for some time resolve this far more quickly, and ideally with one roll.  Trouble is, there are many elements to factor in.

Also, the issue I have with RM is, even if you roll a natural 100, because you roll again on the critical table, you can roll an 01 then, and ended up with a worthless critical.  A critical in name only.  A critical that isn't a critical at all.  That is perhaps the suckingest.

So this is what I'm thinking:  after winning initiative (if appropriate) attacking player rolls d100 and adds their attack bonus (from whatever weapon they are wielding) and the enemy also rolls and adds their their defense bonus to their roll (they may also at this point parry with a portion of their attack bonus, but if they do so, they only have the remaining attack bonus, when its their turn to attack).

Also, at this point, any extra bonuses the player has, can be added to the roll.  And the GM may apply any modifiers applicable to the situation, i.e. +10 due to superior positioning, -10 due to inclement weather (have you tried duelling during heavy rain, you're certainly not at your best).

The result of this formula is directly applied to the critical table, i.e. any positive result.  The attackers roll + attack bonus + modifiers is greater than the defenders roll + defense bonus + any modifiers the result is damage done.  Also, RM's exciting 'open ended' rules apply, though modified.  If a natural 100 is rolled, the player may roll again and at that to their result too.  This is in itself open ended, i.e. if the player rolls a second natural 100, they may roll for a third time.

If the defender wins.  Their 'excess' - how many points over the attack they were - may be added to their next initiative roll.  Initiative is rolled between every bout of combat.  So combat follows the format of:

Both parties roll initiative (adding any applicable bonuses, reflexes, quick draw, etc.) whomever wins becomes the 'attacker'.

If more than one enemy is attacking a defender, the defenders roll is divided between the attackers, as they see fit.  i.e. you can choose to be more cautious and defend yourself more thoroughly against one particular attacker.

I'm going to visit my Dutch friend Joost soon.  I hope to test the system with him.  If it works, great.  If it doesn't, I'm tempted to try a far simpler system without any funky critical tables.  Back to the good old days of straight hit points and double damage.  All the detail takes place in the imagination anyway.  It's all interpretive.  I'm not sure thats even a word.  But what I mean is, over the last ten years I've moved further and further away from actual printed rules, and closer and closer to rolling dice, adding bonuses, and interpreting what has occured.  I'm not sure I even need a table to say his leg is severed.

The serpent game...

Okay, so I've had this game in the pipe for quite some time and haven't gotten around to running it yet.  I normally have at least three games on the back burner.  And by that I mean the bulk of each written so it would only take me a couple of days to get up to speed and roll one out if I need to.  But this particular game I'm going to give you the background for is one of my favourites, and I want to take this opportunity to discuss it, primarily because it underpins important concepts in preparation.  And GMing is all about preparation.  Even a good off the cuff ad lib adventure is generally only any good because the GM running it has such a previous body of work to draw upon, they can take a few memorable story lines, a few memorable characters and a few memorable scenes and just string the thing along, resurrecting previously used material, and mixing it up for a new audience.

Anyway, I, as is my want, digress... onto The Serpent Game.

This is a fantasy game set during the 3rd Age of my gameworld, when the sorcerers were rising to the height of their power (having disposed of almost all the nobles and the monarchy at the end of the 2nd Age).

Off the western coast of the principle continent, ten miles out to sea lay a large volcanic (fortunately quite stable, very dormant) chunk of fertile land which people from all sorts of backgrounds had settled on and lived in relative harmony.  The name of the island is Senjaket - which roughly translates from the tongue of its inhabitants as The Isle of Free People.  This name being a legacy from the 2nd Age when travellers first settled there seeking refuge from the draconian laws of the established monarchy present on the mainland.  Senjaket opened its arms to anyone, regardless of race or background, as long as they considered all islanders equal, and agreed to abide by their laws.

Leylines course all over my gameworld, providing sorcerers with natural arcane energy.  For the record, no leylines cross Senjaket.  The nearest node (a minor conjunction of two leylines) occurs at the Mage Tower raised from the sea roughly halfway towards the mainland shore.  It is usual for sorcerers to construct towers from which to work magick at any conjunction (crossing of leylines).

Senjaket is a sort of horseshoe shaped island, with the 'prongs' of the horseshoe pointing east. I'll sketch a little picture of it for you, when I get around to it. In the prong's of the 'horseshoe' is a natural deepwater bay, and the islanders have created a structure of wharfs and jettys to dock the many boats and ships which seek harbour there.  The island itself is predominantly rocky, with cliffs running all around it.  On the western (oceanward) side, the cliffs rise an impressive 1000 feet or more from the crashing waves and the land is quite mountainous.  Heading eastwards these mountains fall away to hills which in turn give way to dense woods as the land slopes gently down toward the bay.  Much of the centre of the island has subsequently been given over to farmsteads and the rich volcanic land is extremely fertile.  A smaller cliff of only 100 feet or so overlooks the bay, and the vast majority of the island's stone structures are built atop this cliff and project back towards the mountains forming a highway down the centre.  The cliffs overlooking the bay are also punctuated by many interconnected caves which have all been taken over and used as shops, inns, storage chambers and in some cases dwellings.  At the base of the cliffs, are myriad wooden structures, inns, brothels, warehouses, shipyards, boatfitters, fishing stores etc.  At the end of each 'prong' is a lighthouse, which serve to mark out the passage for night-time sailings.  The deep bay itself has had some defenses constructed.  Stone bars, risen by mages which almost break the surface of the water at low-tide, make entering the harbour (without prior knowledge of their locations) treacherous.

The island is self-sufficient.  Farmers grow crops and raise livestock, but the bulk of the island's wealth comes from its fishing trade.  The waters around the island are the breeding grounds for an array of different serpent species, and some naturalists come here just to observe and study them.  I based some of the concepts of this island on the Whaling community of Nantucket, after reading In the Heart of the Sea which I heartily recommend.  Its a great sourcebook for RPGs.  Like many historical works, take what works for you, warp it into your setting.  Seem original when in fact you're a terrible thief.  =)

The populace of the island are governed by a council comprised of a few nobles (literally ex-noblemen which fled during the war of the 2nd Age) and some notable members of the community, a couple of farmers, sea captains, a resident mage. The council are on the whole a pretty decent bunch.  They mete out the law via the island's enforcing militia, which are known as constables.

The island has a practise of asking every man and woman sometime between the age of 17 and 19, to spend one year as a constable.  Those that function well in the role are asked to stay on for an additional year as a special constable.  And it is hoped some will remain beyond that.

Each year the island holds a festival.  The festival, held at the beginning of summe,r marks the return of the serpents to their breeding grounds in the waters around the island.  At the end of autumn both young and mature serpents migrate south to warmer waters, returning each summer to breed.  A large contigent of the island is involved in the serpenting trade.  From boat builders to sailors and all the shops and stores that support such an industry.  Serpents are hunted on great 'serpenting' ships, mounted with massive ballistae.  Serpents caught are largely 'processed' on the vessel out at sea.  And the vast majority of each serpent has its uses.  Its flesh is sought after, and its skull contains a light viscous oil which is highly flammable.  Serpents also contain a variety of glands and organs which can be used in various medical and alchemical pursuits.  Some serpents are venomous, and the toxins of such beasts is also harvested.  Sailors may also take the fangs of serpents and turn these massive curved teeth into weapons, swords, knives and arrowheads.  Very little of a serpent is wasted, and even the remnants which are cast back into the water acts as chum, bait attracting more serpents, because like wasps, a dying serpent will release a chemical which attracts others and whips them into a frenzy.  This is particularly true of an egg-carrying female.

In the run-up to the annual Slangwha festival, the town atop the cliffs, overlooking the bay, is painted in bright colours and adorned with flowers and lanterns.  Townsfolk make costumes, the most magnificent of which are the 'slangwhadooks' literally 'paper serpents' - which are the equivalent of those chinese dragons - several people wearing a massive serpent 'puppet come costume' running and leaping through the streets.  The festival is also famous for its drummers, which sit poised, waiting to play, until the first bellow of the first male serpent calling for a mate is heard on the island, and then all the drummers begin, pounding out their rhythms on the animal skins, and there follows singing and dancing; street entertainers and of course the Slangwhadooks charging over the terraced streets and flat rooftops.

The festival attracts many mainlanders, visitors and merchants a like, with boats arriving every day for at least the preceding week.  At festival time the island hosts one of the most magnificent markets as travellers come to sample the freshest serpents around (and bring their fine wares in exchange)  because, of course, when the serpents are heard and the festival begins, serpenting boats also take to the waters.  But in those early days, when the serpents return to their breeding grounds, hunting is strictly controlled.  Only a handful of vessels take to the water and hunt.  Allowing the bulk of serpents to breed and renew their stocks.

And so it is that the game is placed against the colourful backdrop.  All the player-characters are young men and women who have been engaged in their first year as special constables.  Their job is to police the festival and keep everyone safe, as the festival attracts criminals as well as visitors and merchants.  Having provided the players with this backdrop, the game will start just prior to the first serpent bellow, and the drumming.  But it is not long after that a human scream is heard and the players find themselves investigating a gruesome murder, the first of many to come.

...(post unfinished)...

The strangest character I ever played...

I think I've mentioned before how I have a few recurring themes that crop up in a lot of my games, across a variety of genres.  And this is body-swapping, or indeed, mind/soul absorption (which is essentially body swapping turned on its head).  Body swapping is the idea that you can transfer your consciousness between bodies.  Thus you can radically change your appearance, but retain your mental (and depending on the genre), spiritual, magickal and/or psionic capabilities.  This theme has cropped up in numerous of my games, in a variety of ways.

I have even convinced other GMs to incorporate this notion into their games, to let me player a character with that kind of ability.  Perhaps the strangest of these characters was a relatively small blob of psionic jelly.  This was an example of a strange kind of alien that existed in one of my brother's sci-fi games.  Arguably the best game he ever ran (to date, I'm still hopeful he'll run another, but its been several years now).

In his game, my character, as said, was this blob of jelly.  I communicated telepathically (with limited range, a few metres).  I could change colour a bit, a kind of chameleonic ability.  And I could sludge around slowly.  I could seep through small cracks, and in fact through most porous materials...stick on walls and ceilings, but I was prone to all sorts of physical attacks.  Especially fire and acid, extreme cold and a variety of other chemicals.  Slashing, crushing and puncturing damage didn't effect me an awful lot, as I could kind of divide around the blow and then join up again.  Unless the weapon used to inflict the damage was so large it cut me in two and then swept one half of me away so I couldn't readily join up again.  I was slow moving and could form rough shapes, produce pseudopodia, little jellied tentacles with which to grasp and ensnare things.  O, and if I formed a sphere I was a little larger than a grapefruit... or a little smaller than a football.  I could also change my density a little, sink or swim.  And adjust my adhesive qualities, so I could roll like a ball if needed, or spread myself really thin over a fairly large surface area, and elastically 'ping' myself short distances.  Useful if I ever needed to jump off a tall building, as I could kind of turn myself into a sort of parachute by stretching myself into a thin sheet of jelly with dense corners which I could then tuck under and join up beneath me.  Technically, I should have also been able to make myself into a bubble, and then filter out any heavier-than-air gases, and retain any lighter-than-air gases so that I could effectively fly, or at least be blown along by the wind.  Though this I never tried.

Anyway, so that was pretty much the extent to my physical makeup.  However, I had a really neat trick.  I could 'merge' with organic, carbon-based lifeforms and spread myself throughout their bodies and inside their cells, effectively 'blending' with another creature.  In this state I could mimic organs in the host that had failed.  I could improve cellular and organ action to slightly improve the capabilities of the host.  And most importantly I can act like an internal medic repairing damaged cells, detoxifying the body and generally protecting it.  I could communicate with the host via telepathy.  And I could perform all sorts of intricate functions within the brain so I could supress the host consciousness - effectively putting the host into a trance, or a deep sleep or a coma.  In this state I could begin to slowly repair errant brain functions.

And this was my character.  Actually, this was more like my race.  My character was a psychiatrist, which used its unusual biological makeup to cure mental patients of their various illnesses.

As far as all the other players and player-characters were concerned, my character was a human pilot.  Nothing too out of the ordinary.  In actual fact, the human pilot they saw was a mass murderer and my patient, undergoing extensive 'therapy'.  I had blended with the pilot several months ago and had supressed the consciousness whilst I carried out my 'therapy' - curing him of his homicidal tendencies.

This act of consciousness supression worked well on a patient given a particular cocktail of drugs designed for the task, but in most cases, against an unwilling host, the process of attempting to dominate the host and supress the host consciousness and effectively take over the body was a difficult procedure. Virtually impossible if they were conscious at the time, as the process of osmosis took a couple of minutes during which time an active target could just run away.

So the other players thought I was a human pilot, where in fact what they saw as my character was my patient, and I was a blob of jelly within the pilot, attempting to cure him.

The game was excellent.  All the characters had intricate backstories, hidden agendas, belonged to secret societies and no one was quite who they seemed.  My blob was a pacifist - a common trait among the jelly race, and my special task was to prevent the research, design and construction of an organic weapon which could fire a psionic beam at enemy ships and kills all the organic crew within, whilst bypassing all metal, mineral or non-psionic energy structures.  So the threat was high.  A single fast fighter equipped with such a weapon could effectively take down a massive dreadnaught.  As the dreadnaught's shields would be ignored by the psion-beam.

Many of the other PCs had agendas to steal the weapon once it had been developed.  As far as I recall, I was the only character there who wanted to destroy the weapon.  One night I supressed the consciousness of my host, and ensured he was in a deep coma.  I then sludged out of his body, risking exposure and death if caught.  Lots of PCs had laser weapons which caused me a lot of damage.  I then sludged down into the soil and painfully slowly crept through the earth until I was beneath the scientist's (one of the PCs) hut.  I then seeped up through the soil and into the scientist's hut... this was all in the middle of the night by the way.  Once in the hut I sludged slowly over to the bunk where the scientist was sleeping.  And then I risked an unwilling merge.  I warmed myself up to body temperature first, so as not to wake up my target when I first touched him.  I then slowly blended with him and began the battle of wills to take over his mind.  It was a difficult task requiring many checks but I eventually succeeded.  Once within the body of the scientist I spent the next few hours (whilst most of the PCs slept and some were guarding the camp) smashing up the laboratory.  Destroying all computer equipment, and generally wrecking everything, making sure it was irrevocably ruined.
I then set fire to the place, just to be sure and left the scientist asleep whilst I exited his body and seeped once more into the earth - making my way back to where I'd left my patient, the human pilot, in a coma.  Pretty soon the scientist awoke to the smell of burning and saw his lab had been wrecked.  Needless to say he wasn't happy.

Great game.

My Key Words need trimming...

...I think I need to get rid of at least half of my Key Words. My Key Word Cloud is pretty much unusable.  What's a good limit on keywords, anyone know?

How not to handle death...

So, continuing from my last two posts, on the theme of death... -actually I should point out I've just come back from the pub so I'll lay in the apologies up front if this post goes awry- here's how not to handle death.

The following excerpt is from a MegaTraveller game played several years ago.

So the party had fought their way to the top of a ultra-high-rise building whose top few floors were above cloud level.  Barricaded in the office of an executive whom we had planned to kidnap, with extensive (and homicidal) security en route, we considered various escape plans.  It all looked pretty bad.  A rift had already begun to form between our party of four with two players pairing off against the other two.

My character had an AG harness (which essentially meant he could fly).  I did some calculations and realised the power output of the harness was sufficient enough that the device would effectively slow the descent of three people, if used only as a parachute.  And then only as a HALO jump, as it would drain its batteries rapidly.  My character also had a wall-charge, a shaped explosive device which would blow out a hole in an armoured wall.

So, with tensions rising in the high altitude penthouse office and the party divide causing as much threat to each other as the imminent threat from the security pounding up the stairs (we had killed the elevators by this time). I decided to blow a hole out of the bulletproof window.  So whilst the party was setting up for a firefight with the rapidly inbound security, I set up a timer on my wall-charge and placed it on the window behind me.  I realised the pressure at this altitude would mean we might be sucked out of the window if we stood next to it.  As the timer counted down, I grabbed hold of the executive we were supposed to kidnap, and my buddy (played by the inimitable Chris Hart).

Just before the security got to the office, the explosive went off, blowing a massive hole in the window, and the pressure differential began to suck us out.  Having hold of the executive, and my buddy - with the trust of the other two PCs drawn heavily into question, and blatant hostility coming from one - I jumped out of the window, expediting what the pressure was aiming to do anyway.  Dragging the other two with me, we plummeted through the clouds.

Having now effectively stranded the remaining two party members, the more hostile of the two took umbrage and fired out of the window at us.  Fortunately at freefall speed, we were soon enveloped in clouds and out of his sight, still we heard the gauss needles zip past us.

When ground rush began to kick in I whacked the AG on emergency full power and the harness kicked in.  It took all my strength to keep hold of the other two.  (Strength check made).

We landed in the parking lot, and as the bulk of the security was now several thousand feet above us, engaged in a firefight in the penthouse office of the exec I had just kidnapped, it was a relatively easy stroll to lead him at gunpoint to our waiting groundcar.  Thus ending that session.

Apologies for being long-winded, but that's all backstory.

The next session resumed with us (myself, my buddy, and the kidnapped exec) driving into the starport, with a view to getting the exec aboard our spaceship and blasting off.  I can't even remember why we were trying to kidnap him now.  We got to our ship only to find that the two PCs we had left behind to duke it out with the security were already  onboard the ship!  To this day I still don't know how they'd got there ahead of us.  We had freefalled out of the building and drove straight to the starport, but still they had managed to get there ahead of us.  This was my first questioning of the GM's coherence.  It just made no sense that the other two PCs could have got to the ship before us, and I thought he had done it, purely to tie up the two disparate parties.  My first warning is this: as a GM you have all the power to do whatever you want, BUT YOU MUST MAKE IT COHERENT!  Have a reason for it.  An explicable reason.  Even if you don't explain it straight away, it needs to be plausible, possible.  Events in games which defy explanation and look to the players that you threw them in just to get yourself out of a sticky situation only serve to piss players off.  PLAN EVERYTHING!  (...this is actually impossible of course) but where possible, PLAN EVERYTHING! ...or at least have escape routes / interventions that you can logically throw in.

So... there was naturally some frostiness between us (me and my buddy - with exec in tow) and the other two PCs.  Regardless, we blast off and get the hell out of orbit and into jumpspace before the security start chasing down their kidnapped exec.

I realised it was just a matter of time before the particularly hostile party member came for us, so with much deliberation I decided to jump the gun.

My character was a computer whizz (computers 6 in MegaTraveller terms). He made most computer whizz's look retarded.  And so I set about re-writing the ship's computer to vac the ship whilst we were in deep space.  What I did was set the computer to open up the bay doors (in the ships hull) and then every internal door except for my stateroom door, my buddy's stateroom door, and that of the brig where the exec was being held.  These doors would remain locked, and the ship would vac for 5 minutes before all doors were sealed again.

I had to make several checks against my computer skill to do this, but made them all.  So now we just waited (it was all on a timer).

Prior to the designated time, my buddy and I retired to our staterooms.  As an added precaution I climbed into my vac-suit too.  So I had my own air-supply, just incase something went wrong.

It was at this point that the GM finally seemed to realise we were poised to dispose of half the party (under the remit, as far as we were concerned, they would come for us sooner or later).  So at the horrifying thought that I was about to kill two other PCs, he threw a rather ill-thought-out spanner in the works.  He said an emergency alarm went off.  Now, my character with computers 6 had already made several rolls to make sure I made the necessary changes to the ship's computer to set up the vac protocol.  But somehow I had missed this final alarm.  So one minute before the vac was scheduled to take place, an alarm sounded announcing it was imminent.  WARNING! DANGER! SHIP VAC IN T-MINUS 60 SECONDS AND COUNTING.

What did the other players do?  Well the hostile one, took offense at this imminent ship-vac and pulled out his gauss rifle and shredded out stateroom doors with it.  My buddy hadn't had the foresight to don his vac-suit so was now in danger of being deprived of oxygen for the five minutes the ship would be exposed to space.  So he fled his stateroom in an effort to secure himself somewhere else.  As he left his stateroom he was shot by the hostile PC and rendered unconcious and bleeding to death.  Without rapid assistance he would die.  So having seen all this on the security monitors I had piped to my stateroom, I crept out of my stateroom and went to his assistance.  I managed to creep up on the hostile PC and shot him at point blank range in the small of the back with my shotgun.  But alas, shotguns have a low penetration, and his body armour absorbed the majority of the damage.  The hostile PC was stunned a little, but nevertheless, turned round and shot me with his gauss rifle at close range - crippling my character, rendering him immobile.  By this time the countdown was at T-minus 30 seconds and two of the party were down.  One unconcious and bleeding to death, the other conscious but immobile.  The two remaining party members knew nothing about computers, or the ship's safety systems or much else for that matter.  So they waited, 30 long and drawn-out seconds for the ship's doors to open, and all and sundry were flushed out into space.

In trying to prevent one half of the party summarily wiping out the other, the GM had shortsightedly ushered us all to our deep-space graves.  I sometimes think about that lone exec, imprisoned in our brig, on an otherwise empty ship, lost in deep space.  I guess he must have starved to death.  And probably 200 years later our ghost ship would be found by pirates, or salvagers and boarded and they'd wonder: what happened here?

But there's a warning in this tale.  As a GM if you have to think very carefully about the repercussions of your actions.  One can very easily let things get out of hand.  Like party-rifts.  And once they're in place.  Chances are PCs will start dying.  PC's after all, are generally the most dangerous things in the game.  And when such hostilities do commence, one needs, as a GM, to think very carefully about the repercussions of not just what the players want to do.  But also what you, as the GM, say are the net result of their actions.

I still believe to this day that the GM in that game put that alarm in to give the other two players a chance.  Because without it they would be without warning flushed into space.  But in doing so, set up a pattern of events which lead that game to end ubruptly, and well-short of the story mark.  None of us saw how the game was supposed to end.  None of us got much more than about half of the story.

Sometimes, as a GM you have to let PC's die.  Always you have to think ahead carefully and map out the likely results of actions.  Its kind of in the job description.

Still, a memorable ending to what was a highly enjoyable game.  It still brings a smile to my face.  In a forgotten universe somewhere, there is a ghost ship with a skeleton in its brig.  And no other crew.  And the last entry into the flight computer is a command which told the ship to vac.

If I were GM, how would I have handled things differently?

Well, sometimes its hard to avoid intra-party feuds. Thinking back, in the case of that game, the hostile party member was the root cause of numerous party feuds and PC deaths across multiple games.  It would be difficult to manage him out of most of those situations (which he seemed to enjoy), short of not inviting him to play.  (Lesson X - choose your players carefully).  That said, intra-party feuds are not always a bad thing and can result in some fantastically tense and atmospheric games.  I recall one game in particular which my brother ran, in which all seven players had hidden agendas and secret societies and all manner of subterfuge which pitted most of us against most of us.  But that's for another post.

It is my belief that the game went wrong when the other half of the party that was left stranded in the office, managed miraculously to arrive at the our spaceship ahead of us.  The feud was already underway, and could not be helped considering who was playing.  But it was the GM's decision to blur reason and have us all wind up on the ship at the same time.

With the feud in place I would be tempted to have the other half of the party pursue us.  Run a dual game with the same story now revolving around two competing half-parties.  That could have been good fun.

As a GM, once you let a feud develop to a point where a dice-roll can and may cause the death of one PC at the hands of another.  You must have something pretty special up your sleeve not to just roll with it.  Because it either smacks of GM intervention, or the PC's die.  And in this case, both.

Death in P&Ps... part 2

Okay, so, continuing from my previous post - STOP PRESS! Just found out my American friend has just won $200,000! So cool! - killing off player characters in P&Ps can be a tricky situation to get right.

As mentioned in part 1, John Wick in one of his Play Dirty YouTube videos talks about random deaths attributed to a dice roll being trivial.  My response to that is its up to the GM to make these deaths not trivial.  Its really up to the GM by and large to protect the dramatic flare of the story.  This does mean, if the GM can get away with it (i.e. don't ruin the tension by ignoring a dice roll in order to let a PC live) GM's should as E. Gary Gygax allegedly once put it: "Only roll dice for the sound of it."  ...at least some of the time.  If it feels wrong to kill the character, don't kill the character.  But have a few tricks up your sleeve to handle the inevitable fall-out.

If its near the end of the game, and its a dramatic scene, go with it.  Build the death up, make it happen in excrutiating detail.  Have the PC die in the arms of his comrades.  Use all the tricks you see in films to create a scene of drama and tragedy. But you don't want to necessarily milk it.  You can also hide the fact, don't draw immediate attention to it.  Let the other players continue to fight for awhile (or roll perception rolls to see if anyone has notice a comrade has fallen).  And in that way create a more sombre subtle reaction in your remaining players.

Early on in a game, a random death can still be painted as important, and you may want a couple of back-up characters that players can choose from so they can re-enter the game as someone else.

Other techniques I recommend using to make more of the death, and thus avoid the trivial is playing the prophecy card.  At a viable place in the future of the game, have the PCs come across a tome, or a manuscript or a bard's tale or a tapestry which concerns the PC's passing, as if it were meant to be.  You can also develop this concept further and throw some mystery and magick into the mix by saying that the blood of the fallen PC is now a poison the party can use to kill their archenemy. Go wild, come pre-armed to the game with a couple of well fleshed-out prophecies and then retrospectively apply them to any PC that dies.  If you're clever, you can even set them up, hint at them, prior to any deaths (without mentioning who) and then fill in the blanks, or better still have the players reach that conclusion after the death of a PC - and all of a sudden it seems like it was meant to be.  And it adds a lot of atmosphere. 

Another technique you can employ is have the PC return as a ghost.  Work out some decent ghost mechanics for your game, and then employ them at such a juncture.  The PC may then still verbally interact with the party, and they might have some fun spooking some enemies.  You can even let them periodically interact with the world, pull the odd lever, cause a candle to go out, create a cold draught.  Whatever.  But be careful here.  I use 'ectoplasm points'.  i.e. any such ghosts have a limited number of points they can spend on physical actions in the world.  The smaller actions, the fewer the points.  If they want to shove someone of a ledge for example, it may take all their points in one go and they have to disappear off to the spirit world for awhile to recharge.  Ghosts can easily be overpowerful.  But careful working out of the supporting mechanics can provide a useful response to the death of a PC.


Another technique is intervention.  But use it sparingly.  Perhaps once in every other campaign.  At a poignant moment have a deity or a representative of a deity, intervene.  Do it with drama.  Blinding light which transfixes all the mortals in place.  A glowing figure lifting the mortally wounded player, words like "It was not your time".  And then a sudden transportation to another place.  Perhaps even have the players wake up the morning before, and they cannot be sure they didn't have a shared dream.  Make them play the lead-up to the death scene again, but now they have some additional knowledge, and hopefully can circumnavigate the risk that previously lead to one of their deaths.  You can even have the enemies share the same 'dream'!

Given some thought, no death needs to be trivial.  All deaths can be handled correctly.  And you can create some memorable scenes from either deaths, or the sidestepping of them.

That said, there's nothing like killing off the character of some player who's acting like a prick. Get them out of your game.  Move on with cool players who respect the atmosphere and verisimilitude of your game.

Death in P&Ps...

Okay, so I just watched a video of this GM talking about how he intends to kill one of his player characters tonight.  And I can't say how much I disagree with this notion.  And it stimulated to write this post.

First off, let me categorically state that I am utterly opposed to planning to kill one of the player characters.  That seems like killing for the sake of it.  Like its some power-trip for the GM.  It has no place, IMHO, in mature gaming.  And if a player found out that you set out to kill their character - that you had that objective in mind before you even started the game - I don't think they'd be particularly happy with you.  For a start, a GM has ultimate power, above all the gods, and so killing a player is easy, if thats what they want to happen.  But as a wise man once said, with great power comes great responsibility.

The only time I would condone planning to kill a PC, is under these particular circumstances.  And I've found it works really well to build tension.  Sometimes when I'm running a game, one of my experienced players can't make the full session (I tend to game on occassional long weekends these days as mentioned in a previous post), but want to come along for a few hours one evening.  If this is the case, and if it fits the game, I ask them if they mind if I kill their character.  And I dont tell the other players this is going to happen. In these cases, having a player turn up for a cameo - especially at the beginning of the game.  With the other players thinking the cameo player is there for the full session, it comes as a terrible shock when the cameo PC dies after a few short hours, or in the opening scene.

Or perhaps the cameo player rocks up mid-game.  Whatever the case, I let the other players believe that the cameo player (I never openly refer to them as that) is going to be there for the rest of the game.  They're just a regular player.  And wham, I kill them off within a few short hours and it brings shock and tension to the remaining players and their characters.  -Man, this guy is serious, he's not pulling any punches!-  It works great in any game, but especially horror games which hang off their atmosphere more than any kind of roleplaying.  Some genres are more forgiving than others for allowing comic asides.  My advice is to avoid them in games where you want players to feel fear and dread.

So apart from that specific example, where you pre-plan with the player's approval that you're going to use their character as shock-tactics to instil fear into the surviving party members, by having them think you're that brutal.  I do not condone planning to kill of a PC.  It's just to easy anyway.  You're the GM, you decide what happens.

So when do I kill off PCs?  Death can be a tricky concept to manage in P&P games.  On the one hand, players invest a considerable amount of time and effort in developing and playing their characters, so you don't really want to go round slaughtering them willy-nilly.  That said, you also don't want them to think their characters are 'immune to the plot' as John Wick puts it.  As a GM you often tread a fine line between wanting to kill the PCs to maintain realism and tension, and not wanting to kill them so at least the majority of them experience the full story.  After all, much of GMing is about crafting an immersive world in which the players contribute to the story.

I'll happily kill off a PC if the player is repeatedly doing something stupid.  Not heeding the warnings, trying to take on too much.  Generally playing unrealistically.  This has happened a few times in my games.  On one particular occassion, in a fantasy game, the players were tricked into opening a daemonic gate.  As the rift between worlds began to form, one particularly reckless player said he dived in.  I looked at him sternly, hopefully coveying with my expression: "are you freaking nuts?" and gave them once chance to reverse their decision.  They repeated they wanted to jump into the gate.  So I took them to oneside, described in detail the experience of doing so and what unimaginable horrors awaited them on the other side.  I then gave them an extremely hard sanity check to flee.  They MADE their sanity check but refused to budge!  I shook my head in amazement and led them back to the table.  I then announced to all the players the results of this one reckless player's actions.  And descibed how bits of him - by all means not all of him - just some random bits, were emitted from the gate a few moments later, bubbling, hissing and still writhing, as if some warped fragment of life still possessed some of the parts, a quivering cheek, a blinking eye torn from its socket.  And some greasy loops of intestine which defyed gravity in the vicinity of the gate, and hung there, ejected the last of its faecal matter.

In my next post, I'll talk about some interesting ways you can handle death.

Historical weapons vs enchanted weapons...

This is a brilliant concept posited by my brother, which I instantly adopted for my fantasy gameworld.  The notion is simple.  Items that played a significant role in a significant event and have been around for awhile, pick up a kind of natural magick - like a background radiation of sorts - which signifies their historic usage somehow.

For example, when Druyen singlehandedly kept back the Orc Raiders at the Fall of Desemony, so that the orphans could escape, before finally falling to a hundred arrows (always exagerate the tale!). The broadsword he used, over time, becomes a historic weapon.  200 years later in another game, the broadsword is known as Druyen's Revenge and turns cold in the presence of orcs (because Desemony was a fort in the frozen, far north) and bestows a bonus when fighting orcs, and a defensive bonus upon its wielder.  The weapon has accrued magick based on its epic usage.

Such items are different to artefacts created purposefully by enchanters to possess specific powers.  And not only serve well to enrich the background of the game, but you may wish to have them operate in explicitly different ways.  For example, historic items cannot have their powers dispelled.

Either way, I think its a great idea.  Have fun with it.

Thanks goes to Olly for that one.  He does have his uses.  =)

Player impact on the game world...

One of the advantages of running games in a world that you've developed over the years, is that you know it so well. Personally I never (almost never) set my games in places derived from other people's fiction.  I don't run games in the Star Trek universe, or the Star Wars universe, or on Middle Earth or in the Elric books.  Though I have been tempted to run a game set in the Philip Pullman, His Dark Materials world with armoured bears and shape-shifting daemons.  Might do that one day.  There is an advantage derived from doing it however, especially if your audience is familiar with the milieu.  You can add a lot of atmosphere just by setting a game in a certain universe.  I however prefer to make up my own shit.

This however has meant that I now have a fantasy gameworld (amongst other genres) which has been developed over more than 25 years, and spans six Ages.  Each with their own distinct events which characterise those Ages.  Now when I choose to run a game, I usually start with a rough idea of a plot, or story and think, which Age (if its a fantasy game), best suits this story.  And the thing practically writes itself.    But that's getting off the point.  I want to talk about player impact upon the world.

This is a fundamental which MMOs get so wrong, and one of the tragic flaws with WoW for example.  But I won't get into WoW and explaining why either, that is for another post.  What I want to do here is explain how you in classic P&P adventures, imbed some essential player impact into your games.  And there's many ways one can achieve this.

When running a game in a world that players have gamed in before, with different characters, there's an easy thing you can do.  Its a no-brainer, it has little impact on the new game (possibly) but just goes to add a bit of flavour to the proceedings, and I have used this mechanism several times.  Statues.  Now let me explain:

Place statues of previous PCs (from a game set in a previous Age) in a key location.  A town square.  A fort that was saved from destruction by a rampaging dragon 1000 years ago.  Whatever your players do.  If they do something cool, have the locals erect statues to them.  Then when you play a subsequent game, set 500 years later, have the new party come across statues of the old party.  Give the players a little warm feeling inside.

Similar things can be done with portraits, bards' songs, tombs, historical weapons.  The latter is a great one.  Have a PC wield a sword that was once wielded by the Great (insert previous PC's name) at the battle of wherever.  Give the weapon appropriate bonuses (which reminds me, must do a post on historical weapons vs arcane weapons).  But I'm sure you get the idea.

In games set in a more modern genre, contemporary or futuristic for example, you can have previous PCs turn up on the covers of old magazines, or listed in Who's Who 2121.  Or have spaceships named after them.  Or protocols etc.  "Captain, may I recommend we initiate Defense Plan Erasmus?"  Says the NPC 2nd officer.  Where Erasmus was a PC from an earlier game that evaded enemy capture by faking the evacuation of his own starcruiser whilst it was being boarded.

Whatever the setting of your game, there are myriad ways you can resurrect past memories of previous games by referring back to the epic exploits of PCs gone by.