Making Battle Mats Easier and Faster
StupidRanger recently brought up the issue of Battle Mats, and I thought I would share an idea I recently had, and will be trying out at my next gaming session.
At the hardware store, you can find very thin, flexible lengths of chain. These generally sell for less than a dollar a foot (as I recall they were much cheaper than that several years ago), and come in sizes so thin and small that you can bend them into any shape desired, which they will remain in until moved.
These lengths of chain can be used to quickly set up borders on a battle mat, whether for buildings, rooms, roads, rivers, bridges, or even for a creature so large use of an actual miniature is laughable.
The main upsides to using chains (or anything similar) for this are that it is easier to set up the battle mat, and especially faster to change between scenes or what is shown on it. No more drawing and then erasing, with either pencil and eraser or wet erase markers and paper towels.
If you have a table which is jostled or moved regularly during game play, it may be wiser to use a slightly larger chain which won’t be disturbed so easily.
Has anyone else tried this?
Picking Up On Player Cues and Expectations
My first attempt to run a persistent game was at college in Texas. I ran Second Edition Dungeons and Dragons for a group of students I had met during orientation, and three sessions into the campaign, they led a contingent of Dwarfs against an invading force of Orcs, Goblins, Ogres, and Trolls. This battle would mark the fruition of the efforts of the PCs thus far, and the opening battle of what would become a large scale war.
One of the fighters from the PCs party charged forward, attacking the front line of goblins. The fighter slashed his way through, downing two goblins in process, with the Dwarfs closing in immediately behind him, each downing another goblin. When I announced:
“Okay, the fighter downed two goblins, and the Dwarfs each took another, for a total of NINE dead goblins. Good first round, guys.” the players barely reacted, and I was baffled. This continued until half-way through the battle when one of the players called a time out.
“Listen, our old Dungeon Master always gave us kill descriptions. Whenever something died, he would pause combat long enough to explain exactly how, and if anyone was reacting to it. I think we’ll enjoy the game a lot more if you could do that for us.” This was the best thing he could have said: He explained what I could do to help them enjoy the game more, and he did so in a constructive and positive way.
Armed with this knowledge, I began describing deaths in new ways I knew would give my players the reward they asked for. I would now describe an orc being killed by a critical hit on a charge attack with something like, “He raises his axe to meet you on your charge, but a last second burst of speed on your part takes him by surprise as you drive your sword into his heart, a look of disbelief and anger fading from his eyes as his body goes limp.”
The change on the part of my players? They were now standing around the table, too excited to remain in their seats. They cheered and groaned as the battle turned. Having told me what kinds of descriptions they wanted, they were able to cue me more easily with what they wanted to happen. They described their actions in more detail, describing the look and feel their character gave off as they did it. My descriptions and interpretations of events were able to change to build on theirs.
Unfortunately, player cues and expectations aren’t always expressed as clearly and directly as they were for me that night. While direct communication with players about this sort of thing is always good, it isn’t always appropriate, especially in the middle of a session. What can you do if you find yourself in the middle of a session, but unsure what it is your players want?
Get excited. When you get excited and put that kind of energy into the game, your players will mimic it. Excited players are more animated and more involved, which means they’ll have many more opportunities to cue you, consciously or unconsciously, about what they want.
Put the ball in their court. Whether it is in a combat situation, or a role-playing encounter, forcing your players to not only take action, but react to something, will give you a strong idea of what they want. Make sure that they have several choices, and that they’re aware of what they are in general, but be careful not to limit what they can do or how they can react here.
Have an NPC ask them. A trusted NPC works best in this situation, or at least one trusted enough that the players will talk to whoever you choose. Simply having a bartender ask the PCs what they think about the events going on around them can yield useful information.
Have the players provide descriptions. A PC manages to get a kill, or successfully use a skill in a significant way, and they deserve to see their vision of it played out. After the general results and circumstances have been established around an event, have a player provide the actual description for the results. This also provides you an opportunity to learn how they see things in general, and look for patterns which you can use.
Does anyone else know of methods to elicit and pick up on player cues?
GMing with Multiple Laptop Screens
Many people, like myself, now use laptops at the gaming table to hold notes, charts, world information, access the internet for resources, hold and modify (or generate) NPC character sheets, keep PDFs of any books needed (for quick and unobserved reference) and a thousand other things. All in all, this proved a good decision and resource, but it posed some additional problems I hadn’t encountered before.
I think I am not alone in experiencing what I call Narrator Paranoia, that irrational fear that if you leave the table for a few minutes to get a drink, go to the bathroom or take a quick smoke break, players will take the chance to look through notes and folders. When my notes were primarily physical and spread out through numerous notebooks, binders, and rulebooks, it was easy to tell if anyone had been through it while I was gone. There was too much (and it was often too messy) for my players to be able to reassemble it sufficiently that I wouldn’t notice the change. With computer files, this is far easier.
The other new problem I encountered was the issue of showing players a map, excerpt, or some other piece of information that I had not printed out: I could only show them on the computer. I was afraid that while looking at said item, they would accidentally see that I had certain files open, which could give away information: the simple act of a player seeing that a map is labeled “Lich Lair 3 of 13″ can completely change the way players look at an adventure.
The solution to these problems came to me when I switched to Linux in the form of Virtual Desktops, a feature which allows users to have multiple desktops operating simultaneously and separately. This creates the possibility of switching to a blank desktop quickly, having only open solely for players to see legitimate material, or even a desktop with false information to mislead snoopy players.
If you happen to already have Linux or Mac on your laptop, you should have access to this feature already. If you’re a Windows user, I suggest “VirtuaWin,” a free program which allows you to have up to nine virtual desktops operating at once. You can find the program at http://virtuawin.sourceforge.net/
Supply Lines as World Building
One of the easiest ways to continue building a campaign world and add depth to the game environment is to question the supply lines required to allow the world, or any given area, to function properly. Building supply lines allows players to see a more complete version of the world, as well as providing an interesting backdrop for adventures.
In addition to using supply lines as a place for raiders and thieves to attack merchants and adventure groups, using the depots, warehouses, and bases for these suppliers provides a new and interesting place for encounters, whether they be combat related or not. The new environment will provide a chance for players to show off their ingenuity by taking advantage of circumstances that aren’t always there, such as causing a leak in a brewery to slick the floor, or using the kiln of a smelter to dispose of evidence.
Gaming Lessons from the Great Gatsby
In high school, one of the assignments I faced was reading the Great Gatsby, writing reports on it and taking tests on it. While normally not a problem for me, I found myself unable to read the book past the first few chapters. This was not because the book was poorly written, boring, or of no interest to me. Quite the contrary.
The characters in the book were all horrible people, the kind I found myself surrounded by at school and hating with an unrelenting vehemence. The characters were, in fact, portrayed so well, and in such detail that soon I was unable to read more than a few paragraphs without throwing the book down and storming out of the room in anger and frustration.
As Narrators, we can face a temptation to do something similar, frustrating our players. It is particularly tempting, and easy to rationalize, doing this in order to facilitate role-playing or setting the mood for a game. This can be particularly useful for creating the same feeling of attrition for the players which their characters might be feeling in the game. It can also often be easier to present the players with something you know they will respond to, not because of their characters, but because of the players own tendencies.
When doing so, however, we break one of the primary rules of running a game: ensuring that everyone has a good time. Players who throw their arms up in true frustration are no longer having fun, and will actually role-play less as a result. Eventually, their involvement in the game as a whole may begin to suffer.
It’s better instead to encourage players to truly role-play the emotions and feelings of their characters. Players will often have a lot of fun playing out the anger and frustrations of their characters, the irrationalities, and the sense of desparation; if they can’t or won’t in a given situation, then it’s probably better left skipped.
Does anyone else have any ideas or insights on how to create a mood or role-playing situation without letting the negative aspects cross over from the characters to their players?
Incorporating a New PC
Martin Ralya over at Treasure Tables brought up an interesting question today, How do you incorporate a new character into an existing campaign?
As I always encourage my players to role-play, I am almost always happy to let them sit around half the night as they get to know the new character. It provides a good chance for them to develop the character more fully, and it gives the other players a chance to get to know this new character, allowing for richer and easier role-playing to follow.
Sometimes, however, this just isn’t appropriate. Whether due to pacing issues, the PCs being about to embark on a harrowing quest which had built up a lot of excitement and anticipation, or players just not feeling up to spending the evening role-playing, another solution is needed.
The simplest and best solution I have found is to introduce the new PC as being a friend or family member of either the person who died or a survivor in the group. This makes the new PCs credibility easy to establish, without disrupting Suspension of Disbelief or stunting role-playing opportunities later on. Better yet, it lets the party continue onward as soon as they desire.
This method shouldn’t be hard for most people to accept. It provides role-playing opportunities for those who enjoy them, and allows them to skip arduous role-playing scenes for those who don’t.
“Instant” Spell Duration
Many spells in Dungeons and Dragons and other Fantasy RPGs have a duration which is listed as “Instant” or “Instantaneous,” meaning that the moment casting is complete, the spell’s effects have taken place, and the magical energies of the spell have been consumed or disippated by the spell’s effects. The description of many spells, however, would seem to contradict this element of the descriptor. The two most well known examples are Lightning Bolt and Burning Hands, which describe the duration as “Instantaneous,” but also describe the spell’s as being released through the caster’s finger tips, and traveling towards their respective targets.
Though normally innocuous, this slight contradiction can bring up some problems when explored and/or exploited by a curious player. These spells cannot be truly Instananeous, if their effects and energies do not expire before traveling; an action which inherently takes time. While this problem will rarely crop it’s head directly when it comes to gameplay, some players may try to exploit the inconsistancy, and many players may suffer a small disruption of Suspension of Disbelief, and the Sense of Possibility. How can this be resolved, without shutting down players or altering game mechanics (or ignoring the issue of realism)?
One, rather simple solution, is that the spell’s effects begin before the spell’s casting is completed, but that the effects will ultimately be negated if the spell’s casting is not completed properly. This, however, can bring about several problems: What happens to an object or creature that was being summoned when a spell is interrupted? Was it in transit at the time of interruption, between locations, planes, or dimensions? Does it suffer any harm as a result of this? What happens to the energy the caster gathered in his hands to throw at his enemies?
Another solution which manages to avoid the complexities and problems brought on by the first, is largely theoretical. Instantaneous spells are not instantaneous in reality, only in effect. We may safely assume that magical energy has zero mass or is able to reduce an object/creature’s mass to zero, and so spell’s with a descriptor of “Instantaneous” travel at the speed of light, at which point time dilation forces the passage of time to halt in regards to the spell for the duration of it’s travel. Interestingly, as objects speed towards the speed of light, time not only slows down, but space contracts, at the speed of light, to the point of assuming zero length.
Thus, the spell has an instantaneous or null duration, allowing spells which require some form of travel, such as Lightning Bolt or Burning Hands to continue to meet the requirements needed to preserve game play and balance as well as a Suspension of Disbelief and Sense of Possibility for both the players and narrators.
Everyone Should Run a Diceless Session
Most RPGs use some form of randomizer in order to resolve actions. In many games, dice are used as a randomizer within a system of mechanics. You roll the dice, and apply a formula given to you by the system mechanics to determine what happened. In some cases, this is as simple as trying to roll above or below a certain number to achieve success, such as in the ADnD Non-Weapon Proficiency System. In other cases, modifiers are added and/or subtracted to a roll of dice, though a target number may still exist that must be rolled above or below, such as the Infamous ADnD THAC0.
Dice are not the only randomizer used in RPGs, such as some LARP Systems where players may resolve actions by playing a quick game of Rock-Paper-Scissors, or something similar. For ease of the average reader, and tradition, however, we will refer to systems which have no randomizer as “diceless,” a method of play I suggest everyone embrace at least once.
The first RPG I ever played was diceless, a text-based Star Wars game which we played in the old AOL chat rooms and message boards. In the beginning, we had no Narrator, Game Master, or anything similiar. No one was “in charge” of the game, and only a few simple rules existed:
All characters can die.
Do not announce or attempt to control the results of an action involving another player. Results were generally determined by group moderation, and a consensus could usually be quickly reached based on circumstances, who was doing what at the time, and dramatic effect.
If there’s no trust, there’s no game.
Roleplay, or Get Out.
As time progressed, our playing evolved. Eventually someone would become a Narrator for awhile, and they would be in charge of directing and telling a story. Dice, however, were still not used.
In this time period, I learned more about Role-Playing and Game Theory than I would by playing traditional dice-based systems in the following six years. Particularly, I learned about player cooperation and trust, and learning to let stories grow organically, and out of natural role-playing situations.
Everyone should play a diceless game at least once. Here are a few tips to get you started:
One simple way to convert any normal system into a diceless one is to create characters, NPCs and such normally, and give them normal stat modifiers. These are then used to determine results by comparing modifiers and statistics (the higher one winning if the situation if all other things are equal). Situations are resolved by recognizing what makes sense in the situation, and what makes for a good story in addition to analyzing existing numbers and statistics, which often only allow for the resolution of very straightforward situations, such as an arm wrestling competition.
Another simple way is to abandon statistics altogether and allow for a purely story-driven game. Actions and events are resolved entirely by what makes sense in the given situation and what makes for a good story, and what “feels right.” This method is often especially useful if the players are not all on the same side and do not share the same goals - they are allowing themselves to be the opposition and fulfill more parts of the story. This method most often works best with a Narrator or Game Master to help maintain control, though if players are fulfilling the roles on multiple parts of the conflict, the game may be entirely player driven.
Each of these methods relies heavily on trust, both for the Narrator or Game Master and the other PCs. If players do not trust the people who are determining how actions resolve, the game will fall apart, as it is inherently more cooperative than systems which include a randomizer.
So what do you have to gain from running a diceless system? A better understanding of how to direct stories and character growth, as well as an increased level of confidence in your abilities to run and direct a game; understanding how to run a diceless game will let you feel confident when it comes time to set aside the mechanics of a normal system for story purposes, or just to ensure that the game remains fun.
What do you have to gain from playing a diceless system? A better understanding of how to contribute to the story and growth of a game, and how to interact with PCs and NPCs to do so. Players will often walk away from a diceless session feeling more prepared to take control of their characters destiny and the direction of the story in a normal session, thus injecting more life into the game.
Has anyone ever played a diceless system before? Did anyone try it after reading this? What were your experiences?
