GMs and players both like to have a group of realistic, well-thought-out characters. For a lot of people, all the numbers on the character sheet are pretty much meaningless next to the person they've created and the stories that person will be involved in. Some folks, of course, are all about the stats and the kicking of the most ass, but for most, the sweet spot is somewhere in between. Like many GMs, I want to encourage my players to flesh out their characters. Their doing so gives me hooks for stories that revolve around the players, can give the group cohesion, and creates an emotional attachment between player and character.
I GM games a lot more than I get to play in them, so when I do play, I still sorta have my GM hat on. It's just cocked to the side. I try to create meaningful characters, but to have it actually work, the ideas behind them have to be communicated to the GM, and also a bit to the other players. I'm trying to come up with things that will help the people on both sides of the screen, to help players play the characters they want, and to help GMs incorporate player ideas into their games. Most importantly, these ideas need to be easy to use. No "Character Backstory" essays, no exhaustive lists of questions.
I suppose the best way to illustrate this is to just post the thinking points, and dig into them as we go.
Aspirations - What does your character want for himself? What do you as the player want for him?
These two things can be different. My buddy Matt ran a World of Darkness game in which we all played graduate students at some ivy league university. I decided my character was a neo-pagan who really, REALLY wanted to be a sorcerer or wizard or something. Matt nodded and said, "Okay, so like maybe he could start out as like a Hedge Mage and maybe Awaken later on?"
"No, he really has no power, and will probably never get any. He can learn a lot of occult knowledge, but he doesn't have the spark, and I'm okay if he never does."
I can be a dick to my own characters.
Spotlight Scenes - Describe a possible scene in the game in which your character would play a critical role.
Obviously the player shouldn't get too specific, but I think a lot of us have heroic scenes in our minds when we create characters, and everyone wins if we can actually have those scenes. As another example, Luc is soon to begin a Weird War 2 game, and I'm hoping for two scenes: The first is a rousing "St. Crispin's Day" style speech that my character can deliver to a bunch of Résistance fighters before a major battle. The second is a speedboat chase on the Seine, right through Paris, my character manning the wheel while my wife's character opens up on our Nazi pursuers with his assault rifle.
Inter-Character Relations - Describe a positive relationship or interaction you have with another Player-Character. Describe a negative one. Consider a few others you might have outside the group.
I like to have the party be a group that already exists, rather than, "You all meet in a tavern." This point sort of pushes a little harder for specifics than I like in the beginning of a campaign, but it at least makes the players think about the other members of the group. The interactions don't have to be anything profound. Perhaps Stuart the Strong really likes going down to the gambling hall and playing dice with Errol the Quick, except when Errol drinks too much, cheats, and starts a fight.
What's important is that the characters already have a place in the world.
These are rough ideas at the moment. I'm always open for critiques and verbal abuse (and other sorts of abuse, but we should work that out ahead of time). Contribute your thoughts! This also goes for those of you who aren't gamers, but are following this because, "Oh, Conor started a blog! How cute, let's all give him some support!" Just think of it as collaborating on a novel. That will never be read.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Monday, December 26, 2011
The One Ring, pt. 2
Despite the best efforts of our, ahem, "heroes," they are offered the privilege of seeking the lost dwarves. They set off in a boat down the Long Lake, reaching the falls as the sun begins to set. The standard practice of travelers here is to portage from the lake to the river below the falls, and a village stands at the edge of the lake, apparently for the sole purpose of carrying boats for the very few travelers that come this way. Like once a month or so. Hey, gotta make a living somehow.
The fellowship stayed with these villagers for the night, dining and drinking with them in the common mead hall. I noticed several of the players seemed impatient that I would even make mention of their characters' last comfortable night for some time to come. There was a general sense of "Let's get on with the asskicking." Robbie, however, was keen to interact with these folk, and had his character regale them with songs of the Shire. Succeeding nicely on his Song roll, he made fast friends with the lake-villagers, and was introduced to one of the elders. This old fellow spoke mostly in gibberish, only becoming lucid long enough to offer warning of something in the swamps called "gallows-weed." The group took note of his warning, and in the morning, continued down the river.
It is here that The One Ring diverges in "intended playstyle" from most RPGs. In most games, the Journey is generally treated as "what we do between encounters." There are usually rules for distance traveled per day, a roll or two to avoid getting lost or exhausted in particularly difficult areas, but it's often waved aside by the GM. In The One Ring, the Journey is really a large encounter itself, and this is a clear part of the game's design. Each character takes a role, such as Guide, Lookout, Hunter, and so on. During the journey, they will be making a lot of rolls to avoid fatigue and hazards, and it seems to be these failed rolls that cause interesting things to happen.
The trouble is in pacing, I think, and giving your players the impression that something is actually happening. Even when trying to be descriptive, it is very easy to lay it out all at once, and then call for a half dozen rolls for each player. This is boring. I tried to break it up a little, which helped a tiny bit, but I think if I have another chance it will be more structured. Figure out how many days the journey will take, and more importantly how many Fatigue rolls (it's something like 1 roll every 4 days). Before every roll, have some kind of scene, or "camera shot." Think back to the films by Peter Jackson. Long stretches of time and travel would have a camera flying over the Fellowship, and often a focus on some interesting bit of scenery, or discussion between the Fellowship. Consider just The Fellowship of the Ring. As Sam and Frodo set out across the Shire, Sam mentions that this is the farthest he's ever been from home. Later, as Aragorn leads the group through the Midgewater Marshes, we have more brief dialogue about "second breakfast." Setting out from Rivendell, the group argues about the best path, with Gimli urging the Mines of Moria while Boromir gives Merry and Pippin a lesson in swordsmanship. These are all brief snippets from days-long legs of the trek, and feature little action, but they break up the monotony and give us a sense of time, as well as the relationship between the characters.
In game, this would be a prime place to encourage roleplay, but the GM should provide some manner of catalyst between each fatigue roll. Perhaps the group passes a crumbling ruin on the shore, with Dwarven runes carved into the arches, and a broken statue covered in lichen. If the players are not inclined to expand upon this, it simply serves as a scene between fatigue rolls. However, perhaps a Dwarf character wants to stop and investigate. Another character may want to push on, and it could become an issue. Perhaps, after investigating the small ruin, the Dwarf could regain a point of Hope, kindled by the craftwork of his ancestors. Any sort of reward should be granted based on character actions, and the initiative of the players.
Ok, digression over. The characters made it through their Fatigue checks unscathed, though less entertained than possible, I suppose. As they paddled their boat through the swamps of Mirkwood, Kiah's character noticed they were being followed (ok, besides actually seeing someone following you, how do I justify, "You sense you're being followed?"). A couple more perception checks, and they determined their pursuers were elves. They called out, and the elves approached cautiously. It seems these same elves had followed the missing dwarves along the same route, until the dwarves disappeared one night. The elves assumed they dwarves sensed their presence and slipped away in the middle of the night. They showed the Fellowship to the abandoned camp, then left.
The group searched the camp, and Bulbar the Dwarf found a rune carved into a hollow stump marking a Spell of Secrecy. Inside was found a small chest, containing a jeweled golden necklace, with a letter presenting it from King Dain to the King of the Eagles. At this point, the adventure calls for Wisdom checks for each character. Those who fail gain a point of Shadow, as they are filled with greed for the necklace. My players, of course, feel no internal conflict. Even before the check, Luc calls out, "I wanna take it!"
*Sigh*
The group then followed the trail left by the dwarves... and whatever carried them off.
That night, after making camp, flickering lights in the swamp caught their attention. Of course, the adventure makes a foolish assumption that someone will go investigate. Who the hell does that? Come on, is there a clearer setup for an ambush or trap? Robbie's hobbit fired an arrow into the cluster of lights, and something stirred in the darkness. Moments later, a scrawny, emaciated troll came tearing through the trees. The three Men took a forward stance, harrying the troll. Luc and Kiah beat their weapons on their shields, making Awe rolls to intimidate the troll. Scoring a series of successes between them, they drained off every point of Hate the troll had. Hate is a resource enemies get. It fuels their special abilities, and when they're out, they're Wearied. That is to say, their rolls suck. The troll managed to clobber the Dwarf a little, before being hacked to pieces in two rounds.
It was here that we concluded the session. Then holidays started happening, so even the hiatus has to take a hiatus. When next we play, I'll pop another one of these things up, and offer my thoughts on The One Ring as a whole. So far I'm pretty impressed. There are a few things I would tweak, but it's solid. In the meantime, I'll drop in with random ramblings about gaming in general.
The fellowship stayed with these villagers for the night, dining and drinking with them in the common mead hall. I noticed several of the players seemed impatient that I would even make mention of their characters' last comfortable night for some time to come. There was a general sense of "Let's get on with the asskicking." Robbie, however, was keen to interact with these folk, and had his character regale them with songs of the Shire. Succeeding nicely on his Song roll, he made fast friends with the lake-villagers, and was introduced to one of the elders. This old fellow spoke mostly in gibberish, only becoming lucid long enough to offer warning of something in the swamps called "gallows-weed." The group took note of his warning, and in the morning, continued down the river.
It is here that The One Ring diverges in "intended playstyle" from most RPGs. In most games, the Journey is generally treated as "what we do between encounters." There are usually rules for distance traveled per day, a roll or two to avoid getting lost or exhausted in particularly difficult areas, but it's often waved aside by the GM. In The One Ring, the Journey is really a large encounter itself, and this is a clear part of the game's design. Each character takes a role, such as Guide, Lookout, Hunter, and so on. During the journey, they will be making a lot of rolls to avoid fatigue and hazards, and it seems to be these failed rolls that cause interesting things to happen.
The trouble is in pacing, I think, and giving your players the impression that something is actually happening. Even when trying to be descriptive, it is very easy to lay it out all at once, and then call for a half dozen rolls for each player. This is boring. I tried to break it up a little, which helped a tiny bit, but I think if I have another chance it will be more structured. Figure out how many days the journey will take, and more importantly how many Fatigue rolls (it's something like 1 roll every 4 days). Before every roll, have some kind of scene, or "camera shot." Think back to the films by Peter Jackson. Long stretches of time and travel would have a camera flying over the Fellowship, and often a focus on some interesting bit of scenery, or discussion between the Fellowship. Consider just The Fellowship of the Ring. As Sam and Frodo set out across the Shire, Sam mentions that this is the farthest he's ever been from home. Later, as Aragorn leads the group through the Midgewater Marshes, we have more brief dialogue about "second breakfast." Setting out from Rivendell, the group argues about the best path, with Gimli urging the Mines of Moria while Boromir gives Merry and Pippin a lesson in swordsmanship. These are all brief snippets from days-long legs of the trek, and feature little action, but they break up the monotony and give us a sense of time, as well as the relationship between the characters.
In game, this would be a prime place to encourage roleplay, but the GM should provide some manner of catalyst between each fatigue roll. Perhaps the group passes a crumbling ruin on the shore, with Dwarven runes carved into the arches, and a broken statue covered in lichen. If the players are not inclined to expand upon this, it simply serves as a scene between fatigue rolls. However, perhaps a Dwarf character wants to stop and investigate. Another character may want to push on, and it could become an issue. Perhaps, after investigating the small ruin, the Dwarf could regain a point of Hope, kindled by the craftwork of his ancestors. Any sort of reward should be granted based on character actions, and the initiative of the players.
Ok, digression over. The characters made it through their Fatigue checks unscathed, though less entertained than possible, I suppose. As they paddled their boat through the swamps of Mirkwood, Kiah's character noticed they were being followed (ok, besides actually seeing someone following you, how do I justify, "You sense you're being followed?"). A couple more perception checks, and they determined their pursuers were elves. They called out, and the elves approached cautiously. It seems these same elves had followed the missing dwarves along the same route, until the dwarves disappeared one night. The elves assumed they dwarves sensed their presence and slipped away in the middle of the night. They showed the Fellowship to the abandoned camp, then left.
The group searched the camp, and Bulbar the Dwarf found a rune carved into a hollow stump marking a Spell of Secrecy. Inside was found a small chest, containing a jeweled golden necklace, with a letter presenting it from King Dain to the King of the Eagles. At this point, the adventure calls for Wisdom checks for each character. Those who fail gain a point of Shadow, as they are filled with greed for the necklace. My players, of course, feel no internal conflict. Even before the check, Luc calls out, "I wanna take it!"
*Sigh*
The group then followed the trail left by the dwarves... and whatever carried them off.
That night, after making camp, flickering lights in the swamp caught their attention. Of course, the adventure makes a foolish assumption that someone will go investigate. Who the hell does that? Come on, is there a clearer setup for an ambush or trap? Robbie's hobbit fired an arrow into the cluster of lights, and something stirred in the darkness. Moments later, a scrawny, emaciated troll came tearing through the trees. The three Men took a forward stance, harrying the troll. Luc and Kiah beat their weapons on their shields, making Awe rolls to intimidate the troll. Scoring a series of successes between them, they drained off every point of Hate the troll had. Hate is a resource enemies get. It fuels their special abilities, and when they're out, they're Wearied. That is to say, their rolls suck. The troll managed to clobber the Dwarf a little, before being hacked to pieces in two rounds.
It was here that we concluded the session. Then holidays started happening, so even the hiatus has to take a hiatus. When next we play, I'll pop another one of these things up, and offer my thoughts on The One Ring as a whole. So far I'm pretty impressed. There are a few things I would tweak, but it's solid. In the meantime, I'll drop in with random ramblings about gaming in general.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
The One Ring, part 1
The One Ring is the latest attempt to bring JRR Tolkien's Middle-Earth to the role-playing tabletops. I believe this makes #3, and even after a single read-through of the basic player's book, it seems far superior to previous attempts. While I'm tempted to try to do some sort of formal review, I think I'll just throw out my thoughts as I give y'all the rundown.
The players for this session were these fools: Hil (my awesome wife), playing Bulbar Groin, a Dwarf of the Lonely Mountain, Dagon, playing Dale of Dale, a (wait for it) Man of Dale, and... I think they're the only ones who named their characters. Ya see what I'm workin' with here? Anyway, we also had ol' Luc, playing a Woodman of the Wilderland, Kiah, playing a Beorning, and Robbie, playing a Hobbit of the Shire.
The characters were all premade, but they got to name them and figure out the details. Luc had decided that his character was quite diminutive, and was delighted that his character had a pet hound who would assist with his alertness rolls and, once per session, throw itself in front of him and take a Wound meant for him. Naturally, he decided his hound was a nervous little chihuahua that he kept in his breast pocket. Thanks, Luc. Way to keep it epic.
I tried to keep the rules rundown brief, and here encountered my first stumbling block (I figure as long as I'm writing these, I may as well do some self-evaluation on my 1337 GM ski11z). The basic rules are pretty simple, which I greatly appreciate. Most rolls use a single d12 (called the Fate Die) and a number of d6's (call Success Dice)equal to the character's skill at the action. The d12 that comes with the game is labeled 1-10, plus an Eye of Sauron and an Elvish G-rune, for Gandalf. If you're using a normal d12, you use 11 as the Eye, and 12 as G. An Eye counts as zero, and something bad often happens when it comes up. A G is an automatic success. So, for example, if Dale of Dale is attempting to make a Courtesy roll, and has a Courtesy of 2, he rolls 2d6 and the Fate Die and adds all the dice together, usually trying to beat 14. Now, if one of the Success Dice shows 6 on a success, it is a Great Success, and if two or more show a 6, it's an Extraordinary Success. The exact results of such successes vary, but that's the basics.
So that part's pretty simple. The trouble comes with the next step: at what rate do I introduce the rest of the rules? I'm pretty lousy at explaining rules anyway, so I like to break it up into manageable chunks. I left it at that at first, figuring I would soon after tackle Hope, Attributes, Traits and whatnot. I suppose I rolled a basic success on my explanation (see what I did there?) as I didn't face a bunch of blank stares. It occurs to me that I need to go ahead and start making people read the damn book ahead of time. It sucks being the only person at the table who knows how to play.
Thus begins the adventure (finally, right?). The group is in Esgaroth (Lake-Town), and learn that a Dwarven envoy has disappeared in Mirkwood on the road to the Misty Mountains. Gloin of the Lonely Mountain has called for adventurers to locate the lost Dwarves and ensure their safe return. Naturally, they seek him out.
And then we encounter our second hiccup. Role-playing game adventures love to use the term "Heroes" to describe the Player-Characters. "Your heroes may wish to do this," or "the heroes are attacked by..." In 20 years of gaming, I have played with two people who play heroes, and I rarely have those folks at my table. Every other person sitting on the other side of that GM screen has played violent, mercenary sons of bitches. Some are more vile than others. Luc's characters should all be brought up on numerous murder charges, as well as various crimes against nature. Playing in a setting with multiple deities means that he's doomed to an eternal rotation from one Hell to the next. The best of them are just cynical, selfish pricks that do the right thing and insist on being handsomely paid for it. Brief glimmers of chivalry are berated, beaten, and tossed in the gutter, most likely to be stabbed by Chuck just before he steals their shoes. This is actually why I named the blog as I did. You know, leading the heroes with the carrot and stick... Hey, I'm clever!
Knowing this, I should have expected that the group's dealings with Gloin would devolve immediately into haggling. Dagon began musing over all the things that might be happening to the lost dwarves, and how it really was a shame that nobody would go looking for them because Gloin was being so stingy with his purse-strings. The One Ring uses an abstract system of treasure (quite possibly to prevent this sort of thing) which makes haggling over imaginary money even more silly. The group eventually got the elderly dwarf to agree to the sum of 7 treasure parcels, up from his previous offer of 5 treasure parcels. These are the things players are willing to bog an adventure down with.
With a direction to go and the promise of riches backing them up, the group obtained a boat and set off across the Long Lake toward adventure.
Up next: Adventure actually starts!
The players for this session were these fools: Hil (my awesome wife), playing Bulbar Groin, a Dwarf of the Lonely Mountain, Dagon, playing Dale of Dale, a (wait for it) Man of Dale, and... I think they're the only ones who named their characters. Ya see what I'm workin' with here? Anyway, we also had ol' Luc, playing a Woodman of the Wilderland, Kiah, playing a Beorning, and Robbie, playing a Hobbit of the Shire.
The characters were all premade, but they got to name them and figure out the details. Luc had decided that his character was quite diminutive, and was delighted that his character had a pet hound who would assist with his alertness rolls and, once per session, throw itself in front of him and take a Wound meant for him. Naturally, he decided his hound was a nervous little chihuahua that he kept in his breast pocket. Thanks, Luc. Way to keep it epic.
I tried to keep the rules rundown brief, and here encountered my first stumbling block (I figure as long as I'm writing these, I may as well do some self-evaluation on my 1337 GM ski11z). The basic rules are pretty simple, which I greatly appreciate. Most rolls use a single d12 (called the Fate Die) and a number of d6's (call Success Dice)equal to the character's skill at the action. The d12 that comes with the game is labeled 1-10, plus an Eye of Sauron and an Elvish G-rune, for Gandalf. If you're using a normal d12, you use 11 as the Eye, and 12 as G. An Eye counts as zero, and something bad often happens when it comes up. A G is an automatic success. So, for example, if Dale of Dale is attempting to make a Courtesy roll, and has a Courtesy of 2, he rolls 2d6 and the Fate Die and adds all the dice together, usually trying to beat 14. Now, if one of the Success Dice shows 6 on a success, it is a Great Success, and if two or more show a 6, it's an Extraordinary Success. The exact results of such successes vary, but that's the basics.
So that part's pretty simple. The trouble comes with the next step: at what rate do I introduce the rest of the rules? I'm pretty lousy at explaining rules anyway, so I like to break it up into manageable chunks. I left it at that at first, figuring I would soon after tackle Hope, Attributes, Traits and whatnot. I suppose I rolled a basic success on my explanation (see what I did there?) as I didn't face a bunch of blank stares. It occurs to me that I need to go ahead and start making people read the damn book ahead of time. It sucks being the only person at the table who knows how to play.
Thus begins the adventure (finally, right?). The group is in Esgaroth (Lake-Town), and learn that a Dwarven envoy has disappeared in Mirkwood on the road to the Misty Mountains. Gloin of the Lonely Mountain has called for adventurers to locate the lost Dwarves and ensure their safe return. Naturally, they seek him out.
And then we encounter our second hiccup. Role-playing game adventures love to use the term "Heroes" to describe the Player-Characters. "Your heroes may wish to do this," or "the heroes are attacked by..." In 20 years of gaming, I have played with two people who play heroes, and I rarely have those folks at my table. Every other person sitting on the other side of that GM screen has played violent, mercenary sons of bitches. Some are more vile than others. Luc's characters should all be brought up on numerous murder charges, as well as various crimes against nature. Playing in a setting with multiple deities means that he's doomed to an eternal rotation from one Hell to the next. The best of them are just cynical, selfish pricks that do the right thing and insist on being handsomely paid for it. Brief glimmers of chivalry are berated, beaten, and tossed in the gutter, most likely to be stabbed by Chuck just before he steals their shoes. This is actually why I named the blog as I did. You know, leading the heroes with the carrot and stick... Hey, I'm clever!
Knowing this, I should have expected that the group's dealings with Gloin would devolve immediately into haggling. Dagon began musing over all the things that might be happening to the lost dwarves, and how it really was a shame that nobody would go looking for them because Gloin was being so stingy with his purse-strings. The One Ring uses an abstract system of treasure (quite possibly to prevent this sort of thing) which makes haggling over imaginary money even more silly. The group eventually got the elderly dwarf to agree to the sum of 7 treasure parcels, up from his previous offer of 5 treasure parcels. These are the things players are willing to bog an adventure down with.
With a direction to go and the promise of riches backing them up, the group obtained a boat and set off across the Long Lake toward adventure.
Up next: Adventure actually starts!
One-Shot Marathon
Up until now, when I run games, the intent is always some big, epic story. I have this vision of leading my players through this vast world, their characters becoming like unto the gods, finally saving all of creation from whatever threat looms. This has never happened. Every world I've ever created or tossed my players into exists now in a suspended state of peril. I suppose it's for the best, as they would have caused a lot of collateral damage along the way, and now Yanosh the pig farmer can shovel his slop in peace, rather than watch his hopes and dreams razed by the Dark Army of the Week. Hell, most times, they never even figure out who the enemy is. They slaughter some goblins, maybe hear about some fallen civilization, and then real life happens and the campaign falls apart.
Thus far, my most successful campaign has been Deadlands. The group has completed two, count 'em, TWO story arcs! Then one of the key players, who I will call The Cheat, moved to Europe.
So for now we'll be exploring the One-Shot. I've always turned my nose up at the free short adventures RPGs provide for new players, full of premade characters, but I see this as an opportunity. There are a heck of a lot of good games out there, and this will give us a chance to try more of them. Also, it will allow some other folks to take a crack at the GM's chair. I like slaughtering orcs/zombies/nazis as much as the next guy, so hopefully someone will step up.
Coming soon: The One Ring
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Welcome!
Is that how it's done? Is the first post supposed to be a welcome message? It's not like anyone's reading yet. Anyway. I'm starting a blog about role-playing games. Because that is a totally new thing.
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