Posted on Leave a comment

Hearty Dice Hearth: HOW TO STOP THE PLAYERS FROM KILLING MONSTERS

Welcome to the Hearty Dice Hearth: the start of a series where we gather round an imaginary internet fireplace and answer your questions in more detail, and perhaps in a more actually-useful way, than we do on our podcast. This week:

DJM ASKS: How do you include monsters as NPCs without the players getting all murder-y?

 

GRANT: You make them very, very hunky.

CHRIS: Or you humanise them, make the players actually want to find out more about your favorite monster.

GRANT: There’s nothing more human than a hunk. Imagine: a beautiful otyugh. Maybe he’s preppy. Button-up shirt. Glasses. Do they have eyes?

CHRIS: I’m fairly sure they have eyes, although they’re hidden beneath a rotting pile of filth. Just how hunky can you make a creature who literally lives in poop?

 

GRANT: Bad example, perhaps. I don’t think otyughs can talk, anyway, which kind of rules them out of being NPCs in the first place. I think NPCs have to be able to talk to the players in some way, so you’re looking at stuff with mouths, vocal chords, intelligence 5 or more… or maybe just powerfully telepathic shit that can mind link. Or mimics. What the fuck is going on with mimics? Can’t I just ask one what happened with their whole… deal?

CHRIS: I think mimics must have their own little communities. A mimic walks into a mimic party and it’s like the the most confusing fancy dress party going.

 

GRANT: Let’s try some of that advice. That’s why people are here. So: you hit on it earlier when you said that you need to humanise the monsters, right? That’s a core requirement. And I think the most human thing of all you can do, and pretty easily, is to give them a name.

CHRIS: Naming them is super important. Also give them a trait, some little physical or verbal action that sets them apart from the standard Illithid or Owlbear.

GRANT: What’s a good name for an owlbear? Asking for a friend.

CHRIS: You can go two ways: go noble and call them Ignatius or more traditional and call them Howlbeak.

GRANT: I was thinking Hoots McGinty but those are good too. I mean, either of those could be used as an actual name for an owlbear, so top work there. I think the name and trait thing applies to all NPCs in your game, even ones you want players to do a murder on, so: what’s the thing we can add that stops the knives coming out?

CHRIS: Illicit compassion. Whether that be pity, friendship or empathy it’s useful to have an NPC that isn’t looking like they will smash your face in given half a chance.

 

GRANT: If we look back to the roots of D&D, get back to the old school, there are reaction tables that determine a creature’s general mood when they meet the players – and what they want, too. (The Black Hack, an excellent short-form game, has a good one of these.) It’s boring, not to mention dangerous and unrealistic, to have everything want to kill the players the second they rock up. What do the monsters want? Once you determine that you can make them a lot more interesting. ALSO: give them kids.

CHRIS: You can also bake it into your setting. If the players are at a point where goblins cease to be a threat have them just flee when they see the party. One goblin stays and drops their weapon and tries to communicate.

GRANT: I like that; I like the idea of the players getting all I Am Legend on the monsters, you know? As in: they become a legendary threat, a terrifying thing, that the monsters talk of in hushed, feared tones. So maybe you find goblin wall art depicting their raids on the dungeons, you know? That’s kind of fun. There’s also a big difference between intelligent and unintelligent monsters, too. Like: do they have culture? Are they, for the want of a better word, people?

CHRIS: Even have the wall art depicting everyday life. Remind the players that these are more than just bags of hitpoints and loot. Keep the fact that they have lives outside of being murdered. When the players see how much care you put into the “monstrous” races then that can start to rub off on them.

 

GRANT: For sure. I think we should try and boil this down to a FIVE TOP TIPS thing. I’ve read those articles before. They seemed useful. Does that seem like the sort of thing you’d like to do, right here, with me, in front of everyone?

CHRIS: Yeah, let’s start with 1) Give your monster a name and trait.

GRANT: 2) Work out what your monster wants, and what the smartest way of them getting it is.

CHRIS: 3) Humanise the monster by giving examples of how it lives and interacts with the world and others of its kind.

GRANT: 4) A bit mercenary, but: give the players a good reason not to kill the monster – it offers them a deal, etc. And don’t have it turn on them, either! It might be fun the first time but you ruin future potential monster encounters.

CHRIS: 5) Remember that it is still a very different creature to the players. In their interactions it will act in a way that fits a member of its race: an owlbear’s instincts will lean towards being protective and tearing off arms, for example.

 

GRANT:  Okay! That’s good. Also 6) Make them super, super hunky. Can’t stress that enough. Everyone wants to smooch the monsters; that’s the secret that the player’s handbook won’t tell you.

CHRIS: Never not hunky.

GRANT: Imagine a hunky beholder. Just try to imagine that.

CHRIS: Flexing its ripped eyestalks and posing for the party in speedos.

GRANT: Where do the speedos… go? Anyway. That’s probably enough for this question. I’ll be in my bunk. Bye everyone!

CHRIS: TTFN.

 

For more sexy monsters, listen to Hearty Dice Friends, released every Monday morning.

Posted on 1 Comment

Spire RPG: The Classes

We wanted to share some of the development we’ve done on the classes in Spire – our Kickstarter, which is nearly over – and how they reflect the system and the setting of the game. This is going to be a long post, so let’s get started!

We’ll go through the classes in alphabetical order, picking out one (or maybe two) abilities in particular from each that we feel are worth sharing. These abilities are all purchased in the same way – when you change something in Spire, you gain access to an advance. The bigger the change, the bigger the advance; these abilities are from all three levels of power.

AZURITE

The Azurite is a blue-clad priest of Azur, the god of gold, one of the rulers of the Blue Market to the south of Spire. They are deal-makers and traders, and Azur is surprisingly flexible as to what sort of boons they’ll bestow upon their followers – so long as they can pay. At earlier levels, sacrificing coin can earn the Azurite temporary access to skills, domains, languages and even allies that they don’t have – but the High abilities, as with all classes, allows them to do some weirder stuff:

BUY SOME TIME. [Divine] It’s expensive, but you can buy back a minute of your time. Mark D8 stress to Silver to cast this spell, which takes effect instantaneously. You travel a minute back in time, and will probably meet yourself from the past depending on how far you’ve moved over the last sixty seconds. At the end of the minute, you and your past self meld back into the same person as they cast the spell.

(If you stop yourself from casting Buy Some Time, then things get temporaly difficult. Each of you takes D8 stress every minute until one of you dies.)

Buy Some Time lets you do exactly that – purchase a minute of time back from the cosmos in exchange for what may well be enough money to bankrupt you.

 

BOUND

The Bound draws on traditional animist religions; members of a downtrodden underclass, they are something of a secret police for the poor unfortunates who live in Perch, nailed to the side of the city itself. Most folk in Perch refuse to devote their lives to the major deities, and instead worship the tiny gods that live in their possessions – knives, clothes, ropes, and so on.

For the Bound – a secret police amongst the poorest of Spire, who hunt down wrongdoers and pitch them off the city – they take it one step further, and capture loose gods then bind them, painfully, into their blades. This lets them go things like:

THE SECRET OF FEAR. You rattle the cage that keeps the god bound in your blade, and it terrifies your enemies. Mark D3 stress to Shadow; your bound weapon dice size increases by 1 for the next situation.

It’s not all captured gods, though; our favourite Bound power, and one that almost every Bound player has taken, is the Secret of Lucky Breaks:

THE SECRET OF LUCKY BREAKS. Your gods see to it that you’re never without small luxuries. Gain +1 Mind and +1 Reputation slot. Your bottle always has a little bit of liquor left in it, and your crumpled cigarette packet always contains three cigarettes, and your box of spireblack matches always contains one match. (You can’t use this ability to give out infinite cigarettes and booze to loads of other people in an attempt to make money; the gods will resent the abuse, and cease to aid you.)

We called all the low-level abilities for Bound Secrets, the mid-level abilities Saints (e.g. The Saint of Last Stands) and the high-level abilities Gods (e.g. The God of Getting Even). This has no particular in-game effect but we thought it sounded really cool.

 

CARRION-PRIEST

We’ve been through a lot of rewrites with the Carrion-Priest (and even changed their name a few times) but we’re really happy with where they’ve ended up. While they have all sorts of abilities focusing around their sacred pet hyena, we like this one:

GHOST SPEAKER: Your connection to the World After is strengthened through Charnel. +1 Mind, +1 Reputation. You have a close connection to death and the afterlife. Take D3 stress in Mind or Blood to activate this power for a situation – you can see, speak to, and physically interact with ghosts as though they were physically present in the scene. In addition, once per session, you find a ghost and talk to them about the present situation – ask the GM who it is.

We wanted to try and give each class some scene-framing abilities so player could push the narrative in a certain direction without relying solely on the GM to make it happen; most of them have one in their core abilities (the Idol, for instance, can make a party happen once per session), but we have a smattering as optional upgrades. With this one, we gave the Carrion-Priest to opportunity to speak to and interact with ghosts, but we also wanted to make sure that it’d come in useful in case the GM forgot to put ghosts in the game – and once per session, they can locate the spirit of someone useful.

 

FIREBRAND

The Firebrand is the most recent class – we wrote them after all the others had been settled on and playtested, after seeing a gap in the market for a pure revolutionary type. I think my favourite thing about the class is how their low- and mid-level advances focus around mundane elements…

THE PEOPLE’S CHAMPION. You are the rock around which the rebellion is anchored. +1 Reputation. You gain a street-level bond based on the cadre of revolutionaries that follow you around, espouse your virtues and (if you’ve written any) hold up your manifestos as intellectual principles for life. When you ask this bond for a favour, the stress dice is one size smaller than normal.

… which is all well and good, but given the peculiar nature of Spire, at high levels, their abilities shift to become divine in nature:

THE MEANS OF DESTRUCTION. [Divine] Your touch becomes anathema to your oppressor. Mark D3 stress to cast this spell. Any improvised weapon you touch (i.e. work tools, bolt-cutters, kitchen knives, crowbars, etc) inflicts D8 stress when used against your oppressors for the remainder of the situation, and gains the following tags: Brutal, Devastating.

What that power means is that not only do you triple the damage output of mundane weapons, but you also make them ignore all armour and the wielder gets to roll twice for damage and pick the higher dice. Which we envisage as you walking around with a box of work tools and chair legs, blessing them with the righteous power of the revolution.

 

IDOL

The Idol is an artist and magician whose main project is themselves – every Idol is impossibly beautiful, thanks to a combination of black-market charms and practiced poise. We wanted to make a social class who was so persuasive that they didn’t need weapons to hurt people, and someone who was so beautiful that reality had a hard time keeping up with them. For example:

INCORRUPTIBLE. Your mind is too beautiful to mar with insanity. Your mind is crystal, shining and pure, and madness rolls off you and onto others. Once per situation, when you take stress to Mind, a different nearby character (chosen by the GM) take it instead.

They also have a wide variety of spells that let them rewrite reality (or make people feel so unworthy that they start to rip and tear at their own bodies), but this subtle ability is one of our favourites:

RENDER UNTO ME. [OCCULT] The world is yours for the taking. Once per situation, you can command an NPC to hand an item they’re carrying over to you, and they must obey.

It’s a small ability, but it’s a powerful one; we primarily envisage it being used to calmly walk up to an enemy in a gunfight and ask them for their gun, but there’s a lot of wiggle room there which we can imagine players using to surprise their GM. And who doesn’t like surprises?

 

KNIGHT

The Knight of the North Docks (to give the class its full title) was the first we wrote, and the first solid faction I came up with when I was sketching out the core ideas for Spire this time last year. While almost all of their lower-level abilities focus around them being a load of unstable, pubcrawling brawlers, all of their high-level abilities involve quests for legendary items. (Although: all quests involve finding an ancient legendary pub, so.) We saw the Knight’s levelling as a sort of redemption; they start off pretty rough around the edges (and in the middle, too, honestly) but as the campaign continues they get a chance to go on a quest to heal the sick, reform the North Docks in their own image, or, as you’ll see below, pull the sword from the stone:

PULL THE SWORD FROM THE STONE. [QUEST] You travel in search of a legendary sword. When you accept this quest, you gain the Resist skill and Occult domain as you are ritually branded or tattooed with symbols of chivalric protection. You must journey to the centre of the Spire, find St Beneferas’ sword, and pull it from the floorboards of The Stone (a pub) into which he plunged it hundreds of years ago.

When you complete this quest, you gain a (D6, brutal) magical sword; as it’s magical, you can use it to attack ethereal creatures or those which are immune to normal weapons. In addition, choose two of the following upgrades to the sword

– Inflict D8 stress
– Gain the Ranged tag
– Gain the Stunning tag
– Gain the Defensive tag
– Gain the Bloodbound tag
 – Gain the Devastating tag

And one of the following “upgrades”:

 – Demons and ghosts are drawn to the sword’s powerful energies
 – The sword whispers eerie truths
 – The sword glows blue in the presence of… something, you’re not sure, seems important though
 – You know in your heart that you are the true King or Queen of Spire

LAHJAN

Lahjan means “silvered” in our drow dialect (which was built with a lot of inspiration taken from Haitian Creole) and the silvered are the priests of Our Glorious Lady. One of the big things we wanted to explore with Spire was the effect of oppression on religion; while there are three core goddesses at the root of the wider drow faith, only worship of one – Our Glorious Lady, the light side of the moon – is permitted in the city by the high elves. With worship of the other goddesses driven underground and into radicalisation, the Lahjan have become the spiritual guardians of the community.

They have a lot of your standard cleric-themed healing powers, but also some stranger abilities as well, such as turning into moonlight, reforming their minds into mirror-images of their enemies, or this one…

RITE OF THE THREE SISTERS. [Divine] You share misfortune between your allies. Mark D3 stress to Mind when you cast this spell. You and two allies take part in a half-hour ritual in which your blood is mixed with sanctified mercury and daubed over your heart. Until the next dawn, when you or one of the other participants in the ritual mark stress, it is divided equally between all three of you. If one of the members of trinity falls unconscious or dies, the spell ends.

 

MASKED

The Masked are our quiet social class, where the Idol is loud; once servants to the high elves, they are masters of subterfuge and quiet rebellion. They’ve also picked up the habit of permanently wearing masks in public, as the aelfir do, and combined with ancient drow sorcery and illegally-procured materials, they have access to weird magical masks. These range from black pieces held in the mouth that smother all nearby noise, terrifying copies of their own masks which can overwrite the minds of others who wear them, and the ability to become legendary dark elf folk heroes:

THE MASTERLESS MASK. [Occult] You create a version of a mask that is whispered of in high elf circles – the Masterless Mask, terror of the aelfir, scion of the Red Moon, who will visit their doom upon them. When you wear it, you roll with mastery and inflict D8 stress when you attack an aelfir, regardless of what weapon you’re using to do it.

What’s more, each night a drow in the Spire prays to you to deliver them from their masters, refresh. Ten or so people removes D3 stress, a hundred D6, and a thousand or more will remove D8.

 

VERMISSIAN SAGE

The Vermissian Sage was our attempt to write a bookish mage class whilst making sure it was uniquely tied to Spire; they are wizards, for sure, but they are primarily historians and researchers who are using the reality-warping tunnels of the Vermissian, Spire’s defunct mass transit network, to store relics from their race and explore the myriad potential futures available to them.

One of their most iconic abilities allows them to create a connection between any two NPCs (and let the GM figure out precisely what that is – remember, who doesn’t like surprises?) but we like this one, too, because it let us discuss the ancient noble houses of the Home Nation dark elves without having to do it in a boring box-out:

DYNASTIC MEMORY [Divine]. +2 Reputation. Mark D3 stress to Mind to channel the power of the ancient Houses of the Home Nations, and give you and your allies strength. The first time you use this power on a character, determine which House they originate from by choosing it from the list below. From then on, when you use this power on them, they gain access to the relevant power for the remaining situation. (This spell only functions when cast on dark elves.)

Destera, the Weavers –  Spiders adore you and will perform self-sacrificing actions on your behalf
Yssen, the Unquiet Blades – If you wear no armour, your attacks have the Brutal and Surprising tags
Malrique, the Unlidded Eye –  You cannot be surprised or ambushed
Valwa, the Silver-blooded – When you successfully Compel a target, gain a temporary bond with them
Gryndel, the Crimson Hunters – When you declare a target’s full name out loud and they hear it, you roll with mastery on Fight and Pursue actions against them. You can only do this for one target at a time
Starys, the Drowned Kings – You no longer need to breathe
Aliquam, Repairers of Reputations – At the end of the situation, remove all stress marked against Reputation
Duval, the Grave Cold – By focusing for a minute or so, you may not be seen so long as you remain motionless and you close your eyes
Quinn, the Noble and Most High – You can smell gold, silver, jewels and other items of value

That’s not all – we’ve got a lot of extra abilities too, such as worship of the Hungry Deep (the rotting hole in reality that hides at the centre of the city), the violent and unpredictable drow rebels of the Crimson Vigil, the luckless City Guard, and the hard-bitten noir investigators of the Greymanor Detective Agency. If you’d like to back Spire, check out our Kickstarter – we’re in the last few days!

Posted on Leave a comment

MECHANICAL ORYX wins 2017’s 200 word RPG contest

The 200 word RPG contest is a cracking yearly challenge, run by the selfless David Schirduan, in which – well – entrants must write an entire roleplaying game using 200 words or fewer. Seeing as I write one-page RPGs quite literally for a living, I felt like it wouldn’t be fair for me to enter, and that I should make room for new and upcoming authors in the industry to showcase their work.

Then I went on holiday and wrote MECHANICAL ORYX while everyone else was at the beach because I’m a big saddo that hates fun, and it turned out pretty good, so I went ahead and submitted it – and it won, which is nice! The other two winners (there’s no “first prize” as such, but instead three joint top entries) are both rather serious and, to be honest, fairly moving art pieces about soldiering in modern Afghanistan and the onset of dementia while you’re abandoned by your family, neither of which are a fun time to spend an evening but both of which are fascinating topics to write a game about.

You can see MECHANICAL ORYX and all the other entries on the 200w RPG official website. Alternatively, because it’s only 200 words, I’ve reproduced it below:

You have many whirring eyes and strong, beautiful coiled-steel legs and were made long ago when the cities still stood.

You spread one: plants, light, music, warmth, power, knowledge, rust, something else. The longer you stay in one place, the more intense it gets. You have three installed modules; tell us what they do.

You walk the green places where soft brown people tend to fruit-trees and sing songs they don’t understand.

They pray: DISPEL THE CURSE ON OUR VILLAGE; DESTROY THE PHANTOMS THAT PLAGUE US; TEACH US THE SONG THAT MAKES THE FRUIT GROW.

When you act and the outcome is in doubt, roll 2D6 and spend fuel; if you get seven or more, you achieve your aims. If you roll a double, your solution causes an unexpected problem and something is lost forever.

When you act with love, roll 1D4+1D6. When you act with hate, roll 3D6.

You have 10 fuel. When you have none, you stop.

When you use a module, replace one D6 with a D8; if it shows 8, the module breaks.

Happy people build shrines for you containing fuel and modules. Without the shrines, you will become a dangerous, scavenging thief: a phantom.

I’m really happy with how it turned out (and I liked the other finalists too, especially Five Cards) but something that strikes me – with my game, and with the others as well – is that these games aren’t generally the sort of thing that you’d play on a given evening if something was available. I think that, in the same way as Game Chef or Threeforged, RPG design contests with such tight constraints produce and celebrate pieces of art, rather than pieces of craft – games that do something interesting and curious rather than the sort of thing that’ll keep you coming back for more and more. I’d go for playing D&D over pretty much any 200w RPG you care to mention, and I reckon that most other people would say the same.

Which is fine, of course. We don’t need another Dungeons and Dragons (despite what many, many fantasy heartbreaker authors seem to think) but as an art form we can always do with more people pushing the envelope and seeing what games can do. I suppose, given the presentation, is that these games primarily exist as texts rather than experiences, in that they’re imagined and extrapolated upon rather than played. (Which is why my game did well, I think: the worldbuilding is there, but just enough to get you to start asking questions about why on earth robot antelopes are helping people to grow fruit in, what, a post-apocalyptic setting?)

Anyway. If you play Mechanical Oryx, let me know, yeah? I’m curious to see if it actually works.

Posted on Leave a comment

BIG GAY ORCS is April’s free 1-page RPG

After the success of Honey Heist, it was always going to be a difficult act to follow, but I’m pretty happy with Big Gay Orcs – or A Thousand Orchid Blossoms, to use its alternative title. I’ve wanted to write more games about romance and human interaction for a while, and I feel like wrapping the fiction of orcs who are about to die around that makes it distant enough from real life for me to get over the uncomfortable sensation of talking about love and kissing with my friends.

(That’s interesting in and of itself – we’re generally pretty fine discussing blood and guts, and horrendous body horror and mind-warping terror, but the moment snogging comes up everyone gets uncomfortable. Why is that? I think there’s a blog post about that in future.)

You can download it for free from our store, and a couple of kind reddit users (namely Frieth and s_mcc) have written it out as text files if squinting at a .jpeg isn’t your thing – here’s one and here’s another.

If you like my one-page games and want to contribute to my Patreon, gee, that’d be just super. Backers at $15 and up get access to The Back Pages, which have exclusive, not-released-online content sent to them in the mail. So that’s nice.

Posted on Leave a comment

5 challenges to set yourself as a GM

When you end up running games a lot, like I do, you can often end up in a rut – the same characters, the same scenarios, the same challenges, week after week. If you’ve been gamesmastering for a while and fancy a change, I came up with five challenges for you to take on to keep your hand in, and probably have more fun yourself in the process. I reckon you can do all of them in one session, too. Maybe even your next session, if you’re feeling brave.

ONE: Stop using accents, start using mannerisms.

I used to use accents a lot when I was voicing non-player characters. Like, a lot a lot. But the problem with those accents is that they weren’t very good, quite aside from being so bad that I probably wouldn’t dare to use them in front of someone who came from the country I was aiming for, they reduced the characters to cut-out stereotypes instead of… well, characters.

So last year I set myself a challenge to stop using accents completely and instead focus on mannerisms, posture, vocal tics and repeated turns of phrase. Where before I would have made a blacksmith northern and slapped on my best Sean Bean impression then carry on, now I had to think about what sort of voice he had. Was it gruff? Was he tired, after a long day in the forge? How old was he? How would he stand – broad-shouldered and proud, or hunched over with back pain? Was he confident, or unsure about dealing with the characters?

Just taking a few seconds to “find” a character’s voice and settle into it can make them a lot more fun to play than channelling a bad accent you already know. (Plus, it’s 100% less racist!)

TWO: Have your NPCs lie.

I never remember to do this – somewhere along the line I developed a routine in my head that says “NPCs can’t lie to the players,” and instead of having duplicitous bastards I have open, honest bastards who lay out precisely what they’re going to do to you instead of being sneaky and fibbing about it.

And yet: there is a sharp and fascinating sensation to being betrayed, because you put some of your trust in with the NPC and they used that trust as a weapon against you. So to make a more exciting game, have an NPC betray the players. Which means you have to have an NPC be nice to the players first, or at least give them something they want, even if that’s an excuse to show off their heroics.

Now the best part about this is that, because this is an improvised story that you and the players are telling, you don’t need to plan out these betrayals far in advance. You can just decide that an NPC was lying, and work out the motivations later – remember, nothing’s true until you say it is. (Even better, if your NPC gets confronted by the players and you’re not sure of their motivations, turn it around on them. “Well – why do YOU think that I lied?” Then just go with the second thing they say.)

THREE: Give up your NPCs to the players.

If you’ve got a scene with more than one NPC in it, ask if any of the players want to take on the role of the other NPC. And, similarly, if you’ve got a scene with only one PC in it, maybe give out NPCs to every other player.

You don’t have to hand over their reins of your longest-running, preciousest NPCs to the players, but if they’re just going to sit there and watch (or, more likely, get bored and zone out) while you talk to yourself in character… well, it doesn’t hurt to give them something to do.

If you or the player is worried about messing up the narrative of the game or saying something that doesn’t gel with the reality of the world, then a) don’t worry so much about that and b) you can always give them the role of an idiot who doesn’t know anything, or a boastful character who’s talking themselves up and is economical with the truth.

FOUR: Be open with your players.

There’s a strange idea in roleplaying circles that the GM and the PCs are opposing each other, and while I can certainly see why this would rise out of traditional roleplaying philosophies, there’s no need to carry it on into the present day. A lot of GMs complain when the player characters can’t be persuaded to stick with the plot – and a lot of player complain when they’re “railroaded” or forced into a particular set of events no matter what actions they take.

A lot of this comes from miscommunication, and the idea that players have to be tricked into following the plot as though their characters had free will. Next time, before you start a session proper, discuss what you’ve got planned out-of-character with your group. You don’t have to go into great detail and ruin all your surprises, but if you can say “Hey guys, I had a fun idea for a zombie horror story tonight, you all up for that?” then you’re briefing the players on what’s going to happen – and they can steer their characters appropriately.

FIVE: Just have everything work.

There’s a rule in improv that goes like this: Everything Works. If, for example, the story you’re telling is about going to the park, then it’s no fun to watch someone lose their car keys, so they can’t start the car… and then find them, but for the car to be broken, so they need to call a mechanic… but then the mechanic’s late, and so on and so forth. What we want is to see what happens in the park, and by introducing arbitrary problems, the actors are indicating that they’re nervous about pushing the scene forward.

Now, almost all of roleplaying is arbitrary problems, and our characters are ways to overcome those problems. But, next time you sit down to play, try this: things just work. Thieves can pick locks. Warriors can kick down doors. Scientists can identify compounds. Spaceship captains can get through asteroid fields with nary a scratch.

Because, and here’s the thing – interesting stuff happens when people interact with each other. (Even if it’s just fighting.) But if we make players roll to see if they can get to the interesting stuff, what’s the point in that? So power through, and see what happens.

 

Posted on Leave a comment

Hearty Dice Friends podcast

Hearty Dice Friends is a weekly podcast featuring two of the Rowan, Rook and Decard team – Grant Howitt and Christopher Taylor. Each week, they (sort of) answer roleplaying questions sent in by the general public and, should those questions not prove entertaining enough, they also trawl the archives of Reddit/RPG looking for desperate souls to assist.

You can listen to Hearty Dice Friends on Soundcloud, or subscribe through your podcast app.