2013-07-27

Creating Fantasy Settlements - Introduction

Settlements in fantasy games are treated poorly.

They tend to exist and static objects, without history or style. They're often just a resource centre for adventurers - a place where PCs buy potions or armour. They're placed without thought, and have no function of their own. Or they're outlandish fantastic places that bear no relation to the settlements we see in the real world.

We all have some experience of settlements of various sizes - it's a rare person who lives without any experiences of some kind of hamlet, village, town or city. We're an urbanised population. You may have less experience of life in a tiny settlement like a thorpe of hamlet, than you do of town or city life.
So by living in these spaces, we have some ideas about how they work. We'll usually put these ideas into effect when the adventure takes the heroes to a village or city: there's a market place, a tavern, a jail, and so on.

Often, that'll do fine. The players aren't much interested in a strung out series of farms and crofts in the valley, but only really pay attention to the coaching inn where they've stopped for the night, or the spooky manor house they're exploring. Nor do they care much about the theatre and opera while they're busy trying to persuade the temple priests to heal their dead companion (he's only mostly dead, see).

But an understanding of what makes settlements tick, what makes them arise in the first place, why they are found where they are, what you can find in them, and so on - that will help the referee running the game to improvise, and answer those impromptu questions: "Is there somewhere in the village I can get a magic sword?" or "Who's in charge here?"

Knowing how and why real world settlements work will also help you make those bizarre and outlandish places like the flying castle, or the volcano city, or whatever you come up with seem more real.

So I'm going to write a series of posts on various topics around settlements. It'll be a long project, and I may post many unrelated topics in between, but I'll tag them all "Fantasy Settlements", and link to them here.

Contents:

Still to come... 

  • Part 3: function 
  • Part 4: zoning


2013-07-23

Exercise, heat and hydration

Running during the current heatwave is hard work.

In normal conditions, I carry a backpack of isotonic drink to keep myself hydrated for longer runs, but for a short few kilometers, I tend to wait till I get home.
However, in this heat, I need to carry water on even the short runs.

Without good hydration, lactic acid builds up, sapping strength and stamina. Extreme cases will do serious damage.

Drowning in rules
Most role-playing games don't deal with this particularly - they may have some rules on general fatigue, or on heat damage from high temperatures, but there tends to be less about water consumption.
3rd Edition D&D, which is based on the d20 rules, which I'm using for my own game, does have a rule for how much water one needs each day - a gallon, apparently - double or treble that for "very hot climates". (It's in the Environments section of the DMG - under starvation and thirst.)
This sort of quantity seems to me to be so excessive as to be useless. Also, there's no accounting in that rule for exertion or lack of it.

So, I thought I'd see if I could find a simple mechanism to reflect dehydration in RPGs, including under hot conditions, and when exerting oneself.
(I'm not looking to make real world recommendations regarding survival rations here - just to get some verisimilitude for rulings regarding water intake in RPGs.)

When I run for 3 hours, I'll drink about two litres of isotonic. I will tend to need to top up my water intake after I've run. This seems to be in line with recommendations - although I've just planned this based on how I feel about my own thirst while I run.
In hot weather, I'll drink more - but only by about a third or so. Of course, this is British hot that I'm talking about: just 30 Celsius or so in the shade.

Dehydration damage
What I don't know in detail - and what I'm not keen to find out first hand - is the point at which I start to get injured or ill from lack of water.
Thankfully, the internet provides answers. We start to get ill when we exceed 2% body water loss. At 5% - 10%, headaches and other symptoms set in, including seizures, and even death.
In game terms, let's say that at 2% dehydration, there's a risk of symptoms - penalties to act, and so on. You're not at your best, but you can still manage to get things done.
At 5% or more, the penalties get worse, and real damage starts to set in.

It appears that body water is estimated at about 60% of the mass of a person. There's bound to be some leeway in that, depending on physique, but we can stick with that figure for now. 2% of that 60% gives us about 1% of mass. I'm rounding off, of course.

Litres per kilo
To translate that into litres per kilo, a 100kg person starts to experience dehydration symptoms once they've lost about a litre of water. This seems to be in the right order of magnitude: it's said that an average person needs to top up a loss through sweat, urine and breath of about 1.2 litres per day.
We get a bit of water from normal food intake, so if we use 1 litre to replace 1.2 litres, it seems close enough for our purpose. Let's stick with 1% of mass as our benchmark for dehydration symptoms - with severe symptoms appearing at 5%

Remember my drinking 2 litres for 3 hours of exertion? That's double my daily need, in an eighth of a day. It seems like exertion increases your dehydration sixteen times. But let's also assume that you spend only 10 hours per day active, with the other 14 hours split into relaxing and resting / sleeping - and then compress all our water loss into that 10 hour slot.
(D&D assumes an 8 hour day in terms of travel, so we seem to be in the right region. I know that's fairly artificial, but the time you spend working is going to be the major contribution to your daily dehydration, while the resting time is less important.)

That means that my 3 hour run is about a third of the day - and I've got a thirst for double my whole day water intake. That means I'm drinking six times more for that three hour exercise than I would normally.
Maybe I'm drinking more than I strictly need because I have water on tap - so let's drop that down to a multiplier of five. Very conservative - but we're looking for minimum intakes to avoid serious ill health.

So for any portion of the day spent exerting yourself, you need five times the amount of water you would normally.

That means that for every hour spent in strenuous exertion (forced march, mass combat, frantic digging, hard rowing, and so on - generally if you're expending about double the usual effort to achieve your task), you need to drink an extra half pint per 100lbs, or 500ml per 100kg.

Heat and thirst
I also found I was drinking about a third more water when the temperature was 10 degrees more than normal. (That's Celsius, of course, I'm a scientist at heart.)
Compare that with the D&D rule that you need double for "very hot climates". The weather section of the rules gives temperature categories of "cold" (0 - 40 degrees), "moderate" (40 to 60 degrees), "warm" (60 to 85 degrees), and "hot" (85 to 110 degrees), with scope for cold snaps and heat waves (subtracting or adding 10 degrees each). Of course, this being a darn tootin' Yankee creation, these temperatures are in archaic Fahrenheit - so my 10 degree jump seems to take us pretty much from one temperature category to the next.
What this seems to tell us is that you need to add one third to your water intake for any given time period for each 10 C or 20F above normal temperate weather conditions - for each weather category, in D&D terms.
But the maths for adding thirds of 100ths is going to make hard work - let's simplify, and make it one half.

Attempting a rule
Let me try to put all this into a rule:
Humanoids need to drink 1/100 of their body weight in water or water-based liquids each day, or risk dehydration. For this calculation, 1lb = 1 pt.
Every hour of strenuous exertion adds one half that amount to the total needed that day, as a top up drink. Strenuous exertion includes mass combat, frantic digging, hard rowing, and so on - generally if you're expending about double the usual effort to achieve your task, then the effort is said to be strenuous.
For each weather category hotter than "moderate", the amount of water required is increased by 1/2. That is: In warm weather, you need 1.5 times the amount of water; in hot weather, you need 2 times the amount; and in weather exceeding 110 F, you need 2.5 times the amount.
Make this increase after adding any extra amount for strenuous exertion.
Round all these numbers up to the next half pint.
 Each hour of strenuous exertion prompts you to either drink the required top up amount, or make a save, as below.
Each day, or as prompted above, if you've drunk a whole 1/100 less than your required water, you must make a Fortitude save, DC 15 (+1 for each time you've had to make this save since you were last fully hydrated). Failure indicates that your are fatigued.
If you've drunk 3/100s less than your required water, you must make a new Fortitude save, DC 20 (+1 for each time you've had to make a dehydration save since you were last fully hydrated). Failure indicates that you are exhausted.
Once exhausted through lack of water, every hour you must either drink the required amount, or make a new Fortitude save, DC 20 (+1 for each time you've had to make a dehydration save since you were last fully hydrated). Failure means that you take 1d4 lethal damage.

Not really very simple, though is it? Maybe we should just use D&D's rules after all...

But let's compare what I've got with the 1 gallon rules from D&D:
Consider a 200lb fighter. He needs to drink 2 pints per day to keep hydrated. In a typical adventuring day, though, he has a few encounters (lasting a few minutes in total), runs about a bit, and so on - amounting to maybe one hour of strenuous effort. So he needs an extra 1 pint for that hour.
We're still nowhere near to the D&D gallon - less than half. It'd take another hour of activity, plus some hot weather to get there...

But maybe we need to imagine that a normal state for a hero is that she's putting in some strenuous activity each day - that seems right, doesn't it? She's not very heroic if she's just lounging about all the time, is she?
Resting, or light duties would be the exception, not the norm for a heroic character.

So, let's try another approach, aiming for the lower intake values, but keeping the relative simplicity of D&D rules:
Medium characters need at least half a gallon of water-based liquid per day, assuming they are actively adventuring. When resting, undertaking light professional tasks, sedately travelling (such as aboard ship as passengers, or at a regular pace on mounts), and so on, this requirement is halved. (Small creatures need half as much in all cases.)
For each weather category hotter than "moderate", the amount of water required is increased by 1/2. That is: In warm conditions, you need 1.5 times the amount of water; in hot conditions, you need 2 times the amount; and in conditions exceeding 110F, you need 2.5 times the amount. For each 20 degrees above 130F, the requirement increases by another half.
A character can go without water for 1 day plus a number of hours equal to his Constitution score. For each pint that a character drinks during that time, add another 6 hours. In hot weather, halve these times.
After this time, the character must make a Constitution check each hour (DC 10, +1 for each previous check) or take 1d6 points of nonlethal damage. Characters that take an amount of nonlethal damage equal to their total hit points begin to take lethal damage instead.
Characters who have taken nonlethal damage from lack of water are fatigued. Nonlethal damage from thirst or starvation cannot be recovered until the character gets water, as needed - not even magic that restores hit points heals this damage.
That'll do - the crazily excessive gallons are gone, hot weather is accounted for, and strenuous activity is built into the base line requirement, with provision for lazy layabouts.

2013-07-06

Morals, ethics and character development

Right from its start, Dungeons and Dragons introduced the concept of Alignment - a bench mark of your character's moral and ethical outlook. By assigning an alignment to your character, you were making a statement about the sort of person that character was, morally and ethically - rather than simply having your character take whatever action seemed optimal.
Arguably, without this innovation, D&D would just have been an adventure game, with no in-built role-playing requirement.
(Would our hobby have developed differently without this role-playing rule? We'll never know.)

Alignment is described in Pathfinder and 3rd Edition D&D as a "creature's general moral and personal attitudes". Other games have similar concepts: World of Darkness has Virtues and Vices, for example.
I'm going to use the term alignment to refer to all such moral and personality traits within RPGs. I won't get bogged down in discussing the meaning of alignment systems of different games - you can use the links to look at the examples above.
However, in this article, I'll concentrate on the D&D alignment system, as it's the one system that comes in for the most criticism.

What alignments do for us, is they provide us with a short-hand term to describe the usual behaviour of our characters and creatures in the game. D&D goes on to describe alignment as "a tool for developing your character's identity." If your character is Good, that means something about the way she acts in response to critical situations. D&D says that "Good characters make personal sacrifices to help others." So you've got a handle on at least one part of her behaviour just from that single word.
That seems worthwhile - after all, if we have nothing to set our characters' personality apart from our own, then we could just be playing an adventure game, and not playing a role at all.

Objections
Search through almost any role-playing game forum, and you'll quickly find that many people don't like the use of alignments in their games. I asked around on some forums again, to find out what the common objections were.

Nearly a quarter of the negative remarks were to do with the bad role-playing that alignment can produce: dumb and goofy role-playing by some players has been excused by reference to the character's alignment. "I'm supposed to be totally random, innit? Chaotic Neutral For the Win!"
I'm not sure that this is really the fault of alignment systems. Bad role-players will use any excuse.
Interestingly, as we'll see from the positive comments below, the role that alignments play in fostering role-playing was raised as a positive point as well.

Over a quarter of the responders said that they didn't like the poor definitions of the alignments. "Good" and "Evil" are hard to define when confronted with complex examples - is it evil to kill hostage-takers, putting the hostages at risk? - is it evil to kill the non-combatant members of a tribe of orcs?
This is levelled squarely at D&D's alignments, and in particular, many of the comments mentioned that the definitions had changed markedly over the editions of the game.
To me, that isn't a helpful thing to raise: each edition of a game supersedes the previous one - you shouldn't try to mix rules or alignment definitions.

On the topic of slaughtering helpless orc children - the idea of species that are "always chaotic evil" took a fair bit of flack. The generally allowed exception was angels and demons and other inherently magical creatures - it was agreed that these sort of otherworldly creatures can embody an alignment.

About a fifth of the negative comments were that alignment is restrictive. Interestingly, D&D and its derivatives specifically say that alignment "is not a straitjacket for restricting your character". So how is alignment restrictive? From reading between the lines of these responses, it seems that the restrictive comment includes worries about the fixedness of alignment, rather than the narrowness of the alignment. (We'll see that this is supported by some of the positive comments, below.)
I'll add comments about "lack of nuance" to this section, as well - taking the total share of negative comments up to nearly half. This addresses the narrowness of alignment, and the perceived inability of alignment systems to reflect characters who display complex moral and ethical behaviour.

Support
On the other hand, there were some very positive responses about alignment systems in my survey.

The most common positive response (at 50% of the positive comments) was that alignments promote at least basic role-play. That ties in with what I've said above - alignments build in role-playing, by making you think about how the alignment affects your character's behaviour.

Roughly equal shares of the positive comment pool were given to a few innovations in alignment systems from various games. I found that people liked alignment systems that allow change, that base alignment on reputation, and that reward the playing of the alignment.

Lastly, a few respondents said that they liked alignments because they promote team play. If all of your adventuring group share a moral outlook, then the group is able to pull together. Players are less likely to screw over their fellow players' characters if they are working towards a common goal.

Embrace change
So we can see that players don't liked fixed alignments, finding them restrictive, and some have said they like alignment systems which allow change.
This makes for good drama and verisimilitude. People rarely have fixed moral attitudes throughout their lives. Some of the most interesting characters in fiction have changing ethics through their stories.
In the hero's journey, characters often reject the heroic quest to try to carry on with their comfortable existence - behaving in a Neutral manner: avoiding hardship and risk, perhaps while advocating that someone else should take on the burden. Later, however - because they are heroes, of course - they accept the quest, and become Good - actively pursuing good despite the risks and hardships.

George Lucas wrote Star Wars with the Hero's Journey in mind, and so provides us with some clear examples. Here we go:
At first Luke Skywalker refuses Ben Kenobi's quest (to go with him Alderaan and learn the ways of the Force), only later going when his adoptive family are killed. Even then, he doesn't appear to be particularly motivated - until he's exposed to what the Empire are doing, and meet people he cares about who are fighting against it. 
So in alignment terms, we could say that Luke goes from the human default of True Neutral, towards Good, through a series of attitude changes.
Changing personalities in RPGs therefore should not merely be catered for, they should be encouraged. Exploring how adventuring and heroism changes your character's attitude, or the villain's personality, is an exciting and interesting thing to do. Static, unchanging characters are dull.

Making alignment dynamic

Over the years, I often tried to think of ways to make alignment dynamic and flexible - to let characters move between alignments, and give players consequences to their role-playing of their alignments.
Even before I started working on this post, I was trying out some ideas.

What the research I did for this post has taught me is what people want from alignment, and what they want to avoid.
I've pinned down the goals to the following:
Alignment should be rewarding, changeable and nuanced, and promote role-playing.
Misalignment
http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=37591
I toyed with the idea that as your drift from your moral compass points,  you become more susceptible to magical coercion, possession and so on, and less able to produce magical effects that rely on dedication to an alignment.
Mechanically, this would be through gaining misalignment points - inspired by the Dark Side points system of the various Star Wars RPGs.
Several things made me give up on this idea - it would be hard to implement, for a start, but mostly because it punishes characters for role-playing.
So, I discarded it.

Reputed alignment
After discarding misalignment  as a bad idea, I thought about rewarding alignments - granting special abilities or bonuses based on alignment. This idea was prompted by a relatively new player who said that he didn't see the point of alignment, as it didn't gain you anything, except maybe some experience points rewards.
At first, I thought these benefits would just be connected to your normal alignment - but it gradually dawned on me that your reputed moral and ethical outlook would have at least as much effect on the world than your true morals and ethics.
This then led me to think about having two alignment systems, running in parallel - letting you play characters who were hiding their true nature, or acting against their true type.
There are so many examples of this in media - Bruce Wayne isn't the self-centred playboy he pretends to be,

In summary, what I came up with is this: 

Alignments
Your moral and ethical outlook makes a difference to your understanding of others.

It is easier to understand creatures and people who are similarly aligned to you.
You gain a +1 alignment bonus to Sense motive checks against targets with any shared alignment axis.
 It is hard to understand people and creatures that are utterly opposed to your way of thinking.
You take a -1 alignment penalty to Sense motive checks against targets with an alignment on the opposed alignment axis.
 The GM applies these bonuses secretly, without revealing the alignments of NPCs. 

Reputation 
Heroes become more well-known as they achieve memorable actions - this is reflected by an increasing reputation bonus.

Your reputation bonus is equal to 1/2 your level (rounding down, to a minimum of 0).

Additional reputation bonus rewards may be granted by the GM. Characters doing conspicuous deeds may gain increased reputation. Generally, such reputation bonuses should be no more than +1 / level.
The reputation bonus sets the level of fame for your character. If NPCs have heard of you, then you gain modifiers to certain charisma-based checks, depending on your alignment. A successful check means that your reputation modifier is applied to certain social skill checks.
To determine whether any particular NPC has heard of a character with a reputation score, make a reputation check, DC15.

A reputation check is 1d20 + reputation score + NPC's INT modifier


The GM may substitute a Knowledge skill bonus for the Int modifier if he decides the character’s past activities apply to a particular field. For example, if the character were a cleric, Knowledge (religion) might be appropriate.
Reputation acts as a penalty to Disguise checks.
Applying reputation
Your reputation modifier is applied differently depending on your alignment.

All alignments gain their reputation score as a reputation bonus to Diplomacy checks with targets having the exact same alignment. Reputation bonuses stack.

Good alignments grant a reputation bonus to Diplomacy.
Evil alignments grant a reputation bonus to Intimidate.
Chaotic alignments grant a reputation bonus to Intimidate.
Lawful alignments grant a reputation bonus to Bluff.
These rules fulfill my aims of making alignment attractive, flexible, and nuanced.

2013-06-30

Running again: the recovery

The 33 miler in May was very hard work - but I was out running again for short distances just a week later.
I straight away put in some short runs in the Lake District and Highlands (where I was on business), and returned to my usual lunch time course, and later in June added some longer (just 10km or so) runs around the countryside near my parents' place in Northern France.

During the 33 miler, I'd injured my left knee - the ligaments for flexing my knee and to a lesser extent, the ankle, were strained and sore. At times in the 33 miler, in the last few miles, I was limping along in pain - but intermittently I was able to run on it.
After the run, walking was mildly painful. Driving home was horrible - every gear change was painful as I worked the clutch. But after just one day, the pain was low enough to carry on normally, and - as I said - I started running again the following week.

What's caught up with me now however, is that the knee hasn't fully recovered. Those longer runs have fired it off again - it seems that the 5 to 6 km routes were not enough to strain the ligaments, but the increased distances were.

So, I have more short distances planned, and more strengthening exercises for the knee. Something like this happened with my right knee about 18 months ago, and that recovered fine after a few months of relative rest and shorter routes.

What counts most is that I keep exercising somehow.

2013-06-13

Adventure vs Role-playing vs Storytelling

What are we playing?

 I usually talk about my hobby using the term "roleplaying games", but there are some other terms that we could use: adventure games, and storytelling games.
The Alexandrian has already blogged extensively on the differences between Storytelling and Role-playing games, so I won't repeat what he's said in depth - but I think we should add this other category, adventure games, which he doesn't cover.


Adventure games


An adventure game at first may look a lot like a role-playing game: the players assume roles in the game, and overcome obstacles. The difference is in the lack of alter-ego - the player's character is primarily an avatar of themselves; there is no attempt to portray a separate character.  
Adventure games rely on the players' abilities - it is the player that solves puzzles, investigates scenes, and explores.
In the classic text adventure, The Hobbit, you may be following the story of the protagonist of the book of the same name, Bilbo Baggins, but the game doesn't expect you to take choices based on your attempt to portray the famous halfling. You are expected to solve problems and achieve goals by making winning moves.
Similarly, in Tomb Raider, you control Lara Croft, aristocratic archeologist (and exterminator of endangered species) - but you proceed through a series of challenges and puzzles, rather than trying to act out the behaviour you judge to be likely for such a character.

As a player of adventure games, it is your insight and skill that drives your character / avatar forward, not those of the character.

Adventure games use story and character as background for puzzles and action.

Role-playing games


By contrast, role-playing games manifestly expect us to adopt the behaviour of our characters. Our goal is increasing the power of our characters through experience - gaining treasure, skills and prowess. Acting out the actions that our character would take, based on our assumed character identity - and the fallout and consequences of those actions - is the entertainment at the heart of role-playing.

Role-playing games use story, puzzle and action as a background for character progression.

Storytelling games


Storytelling games focus on narrative. In storytelling games, it is often better to take actions that you, as the player, know will put your character at risk in order to progress through the story. Preserving your character becomes secondary to the story - dramatic situations are more important than amassing character power.

Storytelling games use action, puzzle and characters as devices to move the story forward.

 

Blending:

In actual play, games tend to be blend of the above.

Players may need to feel that their insight and skill is useful - adventure game style. If character skill totally overrides player skill, this can be frustrating. Consider video game characters who cannot climb over simple obstacles. Conversely, characters who achieve actions utterly unheard of by the players - interpreting clues without a clear logical path, for example - can make players feel they are being led by the nose, or "railroaded".

Storytelling requires characters to take actions that stretch reality - investigating the noise in the cellar with a faulty torch in one's night clothes, or speaking aloud the arcane inscription on the profane temple altar. These actions move the story along.

It need not be as extreme as that, of course, but for the sake of the game, characters sometimes need to take on tasks that are outside their comfort zone.
"My character wouldn't do that" means that the game stops right there for you. A blunt GM might say, "Fine: fetch me a character who will," or even, "Fine: your character sits in his apartment while the rest of the player characters go on their adventure."

So for a game - whether that's an adventure, role-playing or storytelling game - to succeed, you need to consider all of the styles.
An adventure game dissolves into a series of dry IQ tests if there is no story or character to motivate the players.
A role-playing game needs both story and obstacles that are interesting, or it'll end up just being a grind of killing wild boars till you level up.
And storytelling games can become ridiculous if the character's actions or the obstacles presented are too unbelievable.

2013-05-26

Playing roles

It's a role-playing game! This is what we do - adopting the role of an imaginary character, and reacting to the situations those characters are confronted with - but we often have different styles and abilities.

Some players will act out every action of their character, speaking in their voice for the whole game session, while others will describe their character's actions in third person. Some players will look to portray characters with similar skills to their own, or vastly different. It's part of the escapism.
Me, I think that part of the fun of role-playing is exploring characters who are better, or worse than ourselves - I'm a weak, short-sighted nerdy type, but I'd prefer to play a sharp-shooter outlaw, or an axe-wielding mercenary. I agree, though: now and then, it's fun to play an heroic exaggeration of oneself.

Different styles

Some players are good at in-character dialogue - they will slip into the persona and speak as though they were acting in an improvised play. In grammar, that's called direct speech. Other players don't enjoy that so much, and prefer to refer to their character's speech in the third person: they'll say "Grog the Barbarian says he doesn't want to do that," rather than speaking as though they were Grog: "Grog not want to." That's called reported speech.
Of course, both these styles are valid. We're playing a game - we're really more interested in having fun, rather than pushing people's comfort zones.
Reported speech even allows you to add descriptors, rather than trying to pull off the acting for your self. "Grog the Barbarian bares his teeth and growls that he doesn't want to do that."
It also lets you put some distance between you the player and the situation your character is in, which can be useful if you're having an in-character argument, or - maybe more uncomfortable - seduction.

Social skills

Some gamers advocate doing away with social skills in games, but I don't like that approach, as I think it's unfair. Specifically, it causes problems when you have charismatic players playing uncharismatic characters, and vice versa.
For example, imagine a very forthright and centre-of-attention kind of guy playing a character who is supposed to be significantly below average in the charisma stakes. He makes no allowances for it, in game, and just plays with his own level of social ability.
Conversely, consider a player who is rather socially awkward and lacking in empathy, playing a character who is meant to be suave, cool and a ladies' man. He tries to role-play those traits - but we really have to rely on the dice results to see how cool and seductive his character is being.

To counter these examples, I felt I needed to come up with a couple of house rules:

Resolve social skill checks before role-playing
  • Where game rules include a mechanic for social skills, get players to make their dice rolls for social interactions before role-playing the outcome
  • It can be just as fun to role-play bad results, as it is to be successful
Discuss the player's social intent, then roll
  • Get the player to describe what they're trying to do, including any specific topics they want to include
  • Modify the skill check to account for good and bad points
  • This method works well with players who aren't Machiavellian masters of manipulation, but want to play such characters
Combining the two ideas above lets you get the best of both: you can adjust the difficulty of the check based on the input from the player, and then role-play the results.

Rewarding the quiet ones

Many RPGs explicitly tell you to reward good role-playing, with in-game bonuses, extra improvement points, and even treasure. I generally like this sort of thing in principle, but it can be easy to overlook players and characters who are equally contributing to the enjoyment of the game.

Off-line role-playing - by which I mean submitting in-character write ups of game sessions, drawing elaborate maps from explored regions, anything of that sort that shows deep engagement with the game - is a source of great joy to me. I find it really exciting when someone has taken time outside the game to do their write up, or make props, or whatever.
This sort of off-line role-playing should be rewarded! That's especially important if the player is shy of role-playing at the table - watch out for this sort of player. They're the ones who don't speak up much, or avoid talking in-character, but still seems to be enjoying themselves, and aren't goofing around. Remember to allow their off-line outlet to count as much as other players' exemplary role-playing at the table.

Lots of actors relish the chance of playing a flamboyant character, an insane persona, a disabled character, a vile villain - all because they get to flex those acting muscles. Look at me, I'm acting! Notice how a great many Best Actor awards go to such intense performances?
Sometimes, though, a character's nature won't allow for much overt role-playing at the table - a silent loner, or a shy youngster - it's not appropriate for these to command much attention during the social parts of the game story.
Watch out for these characters - don't let yourself get too dazzled by overt displays of role-playing from flamboyant characters to the extent that you over look these more subtle types.

2013-05-17

Taming the Chaos: probability and the heroes

Some time ago, I was discussing critical hits and misses in RPGs with a friend. We talked about how criticals, badly handled, can ruin a game.
He set me on the trail to writing this post - but being the kind of sciencey person I am, I couldn't just spew back out all he'd said. I had to go look for the facts and logic myself - which in turn led me to find other opinions...

To start with, in a survey that I ran on some RPG forums, I found that responders said they liked character skill or player choice to be the most significant part in success or failure, not the dice roll.

On the other hand, in another survey, responders said that they like the extra randomness of critical hits and misses.

So here I'll look at what we can do to marry these two apparently conflicting preferences.

Critically Random

Critical hits and misses are a staple of a great many RPGs. You rolled the biggest number on the die, so you get more than mere success - and the inverse for critical failures.

Players love criticals, because they reward those big rolls, and punish the low rolls - but are they opening up a wealth of excessively random results, where the die result overrides the skill of the character?

Yes, I believe I can show that to be the case.

Critical misses: the more you try the worse you fail
With critical failure rules, whenever you roll the dice to determine your character's success at a task, you run the risk of a critical failure.
The more often you roll, the more likely you are to screw up in this way. This punishes the player characters more than the non-player characters, because the PCs are the focus of the game. You're making all the rolls.
Further, lots of game systems have ways for powerful characters to take more actions during their turn. The more actions you can take, the more you can achieve, meaning that you are generally more effective.
Similarly, some games use dice pools, whereby you roll more dice of the same type to represent your increasing power, and count the number of dice that beat a given target number. It's common in those games to have a critical failure happen when the number of your dice that come up with the minimum result (usually 1) exceed the number that succeed. But it is also common in such games for the success number to be moveable - a routine task might need you to roll a 5, but a difficult task might need a 6, for example.

But both these systems also give you more chances to critically fail, because you're rolling the dice - and taking that risk - more often.
It shouldn't be a consequence of increased power to run a greater risk of catastrophic failure than some unskilled dweeb, should it?

Critical hits: GM loses control
Critical hits give some special result as a reward for a good roll on the dice. Where this can be problematic is that the game's progress can be altered in the extreme by a single random outcome.

For example: In 3rd edition D&D, using only the Players Handbook (let alone the plethora of Splatbooks that add so many options that the creators can't keep track of them), it is possible to create a 1st level (that is, a fresh start up) half-orc barbarian character who can deal 66 damage on a successful critical hit. (Our Strength 20 half-orc is using a Greataxe, is in a berserk frenzy [barbarian Rage], and has rolled maximum damage on a critical hit.)
To put that in context, a routine hit from the same character (no critical, no Rage, rolling average damage) would deal 13 damage. Hell, a maximum damage roll without the critical is 22.

Why's that important? Well, a normal bad guy for this 1st level barbarian is likely to have 10 hit points or so. So the barbarian can kill one of these routinely - whether they get a critical or not. Clearly this is the barbarian's job.
But the heroes aren't supposed to just beat down every encounter they meet. Sometimes - usually for the sake of plot - they need to meet something so overpowering that they ought to run. The Dungeonmasters' Guide even tells us to do this. So an overpowering challenge (challenge rating 6, to use the jargon) that the players are supposed to flee from is likely to have 50 to 80 hit points - a young white dragon, for example, has 76.

With one very lucky hit, the 1st level barbarian can reduce this supposedly overpowering monster to a mere 10 hit points - low enough for the rest of the player party to finish it off with little risk.

Similarly, RoleMaster and its derivatives, (including Middle Earth Role-Paying (MERP) and SpaceMaster, and all), had long tables of critical hit results. Often these were amusing ("arrow pierces both ears; hearing impaired" followed by some extreme damage multiplier for skewering the target's skull) - but ultimately they created the same problem: through random chance, dangerous foes could be destroyed with a single attack.

Conversely, this can easily go the other way: an encounter that was intended to be routine, or even a pushover can explode in the players' faces. That lowly hobgoblin that the mid-level party have cornered stands a non-zero chance of killing one of the player characters in a single hit.

At this point, whether it's the players who are winning big or loosing out, our GM has lost control of the game.

The overpowering encounter has been defeated, or the hero on whom the story-line has been pinned is dead. The game is most likely to grind to a halt while the GM tries to think of a new story line - or they'll be tempted to alter the supposedly overpowering encounter to add another monster to take the dead one's place, or somehow claim that the dead PC lives.

Very unsatisfactory.

What Do We Do About It?

If randomisation can ruin the game, what do we tend to do about it? Anecdotally, it seems, we cheat.

Fudging the rolls
When random rolls go against the story, the GM is tempted to cheat. This special cheating is called "fudging", and most games even explicitly advise the GM to do it.
To me, this ruins the fun. If I know that the GM is fudging to keep PCs alive, to push the story forward, then all sense of risk is lost. I feel like Superman before anyone figured out Kryptonite was bad for my health. As a player, I've quit out of few games over the years where cheating in my favour has kept me alive - and I know other players who feel the same way.

I've also found that GM fudging regarding dice rolls is a significant issue with the wider gamer world. In my survey, I found that about a third of responders volunteered that they considered GM rolls to be subject to doubt, and that they resented or otherwise felt negatively about that. The other two thirds gave no opinion - which considering it wasn't a question I'd asked in the survey, we can't really take as a positive result for GM trust.

Doing away with fudge
If fudging the rolls is a source of dissatisfaction, how can we do away with it?

Rolling in the open:
The GM can of course, roll all the dice in front of the players. That works fine if our game is under control - but if randomisation can have a negative impact on the game, then rolling in the open doesn't solve this. It can even lead GMs to extreme methods, like practising sleight of hand or loaded dice - and no-one in their right mind wants that.

But if we've got our randomisation in a place where all parties are satisfied with its results, then rolling in the open can be engaging and exciting. Players pay more attention when the GM rolls the dice in front of them.
If you adopt this method, you may need to get your players on board with the principle of dramatic irony - the players may end up knowing (or suspecting) things their characters don't know. If the players can see that you've rolled a tiny number on the dice, but announced a massive number as the result, they know the big bonuses you're adding to that roll, and may treat their antagonist with more fear than he would normally command.
Me, I like to cultivate dramatic irony in my games: giving out scenes where the villains discuss their plans, or shadowy figures stalk the player characters. As long as everyone is on board with the separation of player and character knowledge, it can be good fun to play along with the ignorance.

Players roll all the dice:
D&D's Unearthed Arcana supplement for 3rd edition included this variant rule: Let the players roll everything for themselves.

If the GM's dice rolls are suspect, then stop rolling. Instead of the monsters having a dice roll to attack the heroes, the heroes get a defence roll to avoid the monsters' attacks. Rather than the vile vizier trying to lie to the heroes, the heroes try to sense his motives.
Instead of the GM rolling for the NPCs, you assume that the NPCs' actions are always the average of what they might achieve, and let the players do the randomisation.

The great advantage of this is that the players become proactive, leading the action, even when they're defending against a horde of attackers.

Of course, this involves tweaking the rules of the game. It may take some work on the GM's part - but most RPGs give you some idea of what the average results of typical rolls are going to be. You'll just need to work out the rules of thumb for your NPCs and monsters, and apply them.

Again, this method only really works if the randomisation element in your game is sound.

Taming the Chaos

What can we do to keep the game manageable (assuming we're not going to cheat)?

Change the dice: 
If we change from a d20 to a d12, the chances of getting the maximum or minimum result increase - and vice versa. So to decrease randomness, it might appear that we should increase the number of sides on our dice.

But we can't simply swap dice types around without rescaling the modifiers. A +2 to a roll is a big deal when you're rolling a d10, but relatively insignificant when you're rolling a d100.
If we take the d20 as a base, and change it to a d100 instead, we'll need to multiply all the modifiers in the game by 5.

As long as we make sure that the point at which criticals happens stays as the maximum and minimum results of our die type, we should find that they happen far less often (one 5th of the time).

But is that really solving the issue? A less common chance is still going to happen now and then - and perhaps the increased rarity will work against us, as we become even less inclined to plan for those outside chances.

Do away with criticals?
My first instinct is to certainly get rid of critical failures, they're annoying at best and often counter-productive at worst - but critical success is a reward that players seem to resent losing.
I ran a quick poll of RPG forums again, and found that three times as many people liked critical success rewards than disliked them, and over half of people disliked critical failures.
I also found that a significant number of responders volunteered that they didn't like critical success in skills - combat seemed to be acceptable, but the outlandish outcomes of critical skill success seemed to be a randomisation too far.

While getting all this data in, there were some critical failure rules that were brought up that seems to be well-liked, and certainly appeared interesting.

So if critical hits in combat are well liked, how can we keep them? We need to retain the excitement of reward for a good roll, while ensuring they don't ruin the GM's plans (by killing the heroes, or by the heroes killing supposedly overpowering encounters).

Critical advantage
In the game I run, I make critical success in combat give advantage, instead of massive damage.
When a critical result comes up on the dice, the player (or me, as the GM) can opt for some extra effect. in my rules, I split those extra effects into Attack, Maim, or Move.
The Attack option means that the creature can get a free attack (either a simple attack, or a combat trick, like tripping the defender, or disarming them). The attack must make a new check to make this attack. There are a limited number of attacks in a round, so the player has to judge whether this is worth it.
The Maim option lets the player choose to inflict some injury on top of the damage they are deal, so that the defender starts to bleed each round, or has reduced movement, or some similar effect. The defender gets a check to resist this effect.
The Move option lets the attacker re-position themselves in the fight as a free move.

In play, these options have kept the reward of critical hits, which players like, but have largely retained control of the game. With a single additional hit, a hero is unlikely to kill an overpowering menace - and vice versa.
Also, the variety of options gives players choice

Optional failure
While we're praising options for players, I should mention one of the better critical miss rules that was brought up while I was researching this post.
In a few games, a bad roll on the dice allows the player to take the option of re-rolling - but if that second roll is a failure, something catastrophic happens.

For example: In at least one of the systems, that catastrophic thing is damage to your weapon - the game is a post-apocalypse setting, where materials to repair swords are scarce. Let's look at that in action...

Altair tries to hit the lowly goblin with his staff, and his player rolls a 1. The player can opt to re-roll, but risks breaking or damaging his staff  if he misses with the second roll. The player thinks the goblin is not worth the risk, and decided to simply miss. No critical.
Later, Altair is faced with a foul giant. The stakes are far higher, and every hit counts. Altair's player chooses to re-roll his potential critical miss, as he judges it better to try again and risk breaking the staff.

Conclusion: Chaos Tamed?

The randomness of critical hits and misses can be fun, and need not wreck the precarious balance of the GM's plans.
Options and choice for the players are good - giving bonus choices to increase drama is better than merely adding damage, or a secondary table of random effects. When players can choose how their awesome or terrible dice rolling effects the game, there's more meaningful fun to be had.