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Unfolding the Encounter

Thu, 02/02/2012 - 23:03

Do not reveal the entire encounter to the players right at its start; let it flow over several rounds.

Sometimes, it feels like an archaeologist just cannot catch a break. Just when you finally begin to feel that you have a solid grasp on things – BAM – another twist makes the scenario more complex. Life is never simple when you are Indiana Jones.

Life should never be simple for the heroes in your game, either, which is a solid reason to consider changing how you design encounters. With standard encounter design, the crescendo of battle happens right at the beginning. All of the monsters and all the heroes are at full power, and their most powerful attacks and spells fly with reckless abandon. The first round is dynamite, the next few are decent, and then combat devolves into mopping up the last few enemies and patching up your wounded. While this is tactically solid, it is completely unsatisfying from a dramatic perspective. If I watched an action movie that flowed like this, I would be bored to tears. There has to be a better way.

Our heroes need to encounter new problems as the battle progresses, much like Indy does.

Tell the Combat Narrative in Steps

A combat encounter is part of the narrative of your story, and it deserves to be treated as such. Give it time to tell its tale. Begin by introducing your players to the scenario through action, and then bring in additional challenges. Give them conflicting short-term goals that all help in achieving their long-term goal. Force them to make difficult decisions. In short, tell the combat story with action the same way you tell your role-playing story with words.

There are many ways to structure an encounter so that the drama and intensity increase from the start, and it is important to switch up your strategies so that you do not become predictable to your players. We will look at two different strategies in detail to get you started.

Tick-Tock of the Clock

The easiest method of unfolding the combat narrative is to script events to occur during specific rounds of combat. When my Tuesday night gaming crew decided to kick down the door to the Cracked Flagon tavern and bust some wererat heads, this is the approach I used.

Round 1: (Surprise round) Begins when the PCs kick down the door to the tavern. The wererats are all in human form.

Round 2: The wererats in the tavern transform on their initiative turns, leaving some human peasants on the board as well. A wererat in the back room rings the warning bell, alerting all nearby wererats to the heroes’ presence. I tell the players that they may control the peasants in this battle and give the necessary rules.

Round 3: The battle map expands to include the bottom floor of a nearby guild house, containing more peasants and human-form wererats. The wererats here transform and begin killing the peasants. A guilder calls to the heroes for help, offering 100 gold for every peasant and 25 gold for every animal saved from the wererats.

Round 4: The battle map expands a final time to the top two floors of the guild house. The last remaining wererats there transform and begin attacking the peasants.

Round 5 and Beyond: The battle continues to its conclusion.

Overall Build Round 1 Battle Map Setup Round 3 Battle Map Addition

Having a basic script for the combat meant that I could seamlessly keep adding to the fray as I went. The players did not feel cheated, because I was not just adding more monsters to a battle that was too easy to win. Instead, they players could follow the chain of events as they unfolded and grow to understand the seriousness of the situation. Saving the peasants became a competing goal with saving their own hides. They left the table that night with questions based on the story that the combat told.

You do not need to get this complex when you script additions to your encounters. Here are several easy suggestions:

  • An enemy sounds a horn at the start of the battle to call for help. Reinforcements will arrive at the start of the fourth round of combat.
  • The heroes fight on top of a wide dam during a huge storm. A few chunks crumble away every round, eventually dividing the battlefield.
  • A great sea monster attacks the heroes’ ship. Every round it gains a new attack option as more of the monster rises from the depths.
  • Lava is rising in the cavern. It rises five feet every two rounds, forcing the heroes to higher ground.
  • The goblins have constructed a bomb with a ridiculously large timer. It will explode when the countdown reaches zero.
Cause and Effect

For the DMs who like a little more unpredictability in their lives, you can hinge changes in the combat narrative to specific actions that might be taken in combat. This requires the same scripting as our other example, but you allow the actions from that script to occur in a more “organic” fashion.

The first adventure of my current campaign concluded with this type of encounter. The heroes had tracked an outbreak of filth fever and the burning of a local orphanage to a wererat den beneath the city – the origin of their wererat adventures. The battle began as a skirmish with twenty minions on two levels with an obviously magical circle carved into the top floor. It continued this way until a hero became bloodied with standing in the magical circle. The circle was powered by blood magic, and it summoned a bile archon the next round. The bile archon then began to tear into both the wererats and the heroes. What began as a simple minion-based skirmish ended as a boos fight against a powerful solo creature.

The down side of action-based scripting is that you may not get to do the cool thing you planned. That is okay, do not force it. If no one had been bloodied in the battle against the wererat minions, I could not have brought out my bile archon. Having the circle glow and then summon the archon anyway would have denied a neat accomplishment to the heroes. I would have had to just leave my brand new, awesome mini on the shelf and use it another day.

Possible uses of cause-and-effect scripting include:

  • A dragon’s breath weapon is so powerful that every square it covers becomes damaging terrain for the rest of the fight.
  • Hitting a slime monster with an edged weapon divides it in half, replacing the original with two mini-slimes at half of its hit points.
  • The first to blow the Horn of Yori becomes an avatar of the god of battle for five minutes. Both the heroes and the villains arrive to its resting place at the same time.
  • If the five animated lion statues occupy adjacent squares, they transform into a single metal golem of immense strength.

How to you allow encounters to unfold in your own game? What do you do to break up the standard combat scenario? Do you view combat encounters as part of the narrative structure of your game, or do you view them as separate from story-telling? Do the suggested scripts do enough to add dramatic tension to encounters, or do DMs need to do even more?

Categories: Blogs

Into the Third Dimension!

Thu, 01/26/2012 - 18:59

Breaking off the battle map and onto 3D terrain can bring your combat encounters to the next level.

Astriak the dragon looks down upon his prey. This moment would be far less dramatic on a flat battle map.

A big part of Dungeons and Dragons 4e, and may other RPGs, is tactical combat. Movement, range, zones of control, and areas of effect all play in to making battles that can be both exciting and highly intellectually engaging. Adding a third dimension to the standard combat encounter only increases these advantages.

It is also far superior for immersion by your PCs.

When I came in first in the DM Challenge at PAX East 2011, one thing especially wowed my players and drew onlookers to the table – my final “boss” encounter with the dragon, Astriak. For this encounter, I constructed a large glass flight grid as well as a cliff face and top that was climbable by the heroes. There was no questioning that this was an epic fight.

Once Astriak took to the air and began filling the floor ov the cavern with burning acid, the heroes lost valuable room to maneuver, unless the climbed the cliff face.

To begin the encounter, Astriak stood high above the heroes as he condescendingly predicted their doom. That moment of role-playing worked in large part because the players could actually see just how high above their heads Astriak truly was. That three-inch tall piece of plastic cut a menacing figure when it was placed fourteen inches above the base of the battle map. When combat began, Astriak could actually swoop down in his charge at the heroes. Once he discovered the heroes were a real threat, Astriak again took to the air, directly above the heads of the heroes. As one hero took several turns to climb the cliff face, the player could see the physical progress of his character better than with just using a marker to denote elevation above the cavern floor.

Why would you do anything else?

Well, frankly, the answers are time and money. You can buy ready-made 3D Terrain, like Dwarven Forge, but that is expensive. You can paint your own 3D terrain after casting it or carving it, like many miniature war game hobbyists do, but that takes boatloads of time and a fair amount of skill. If you have lots of time or money, then your solutions are pretty straightforward.

This cavern system was built using the (discontinued) CaveWorks printable terrain set by WorldWorks Games. The “pink” terrain pieces were made before I realized my printer was out of yellow ink.

For the rest of us, however, there are still options. Reasonable doses of hard work and a cash investment similar to purchasing dungeon tiles can get you far. Printable, modular terrain, like that offered by WorldWorks Games and Fat Dragon Games allow you to print, cut, and then glue together impressive 3D terrain. I prefer the terrain by WorldWorks Games because I have found it to be more modular, which I appreciate when reusing pieces. Building paper terrain does have small learning curve, but you can eventually get fairly impressive setups.

Another option is to use pre-printed paperboard terrain, like the Harrowing Halls or Desert of Athas dungeon tile sets by Wizards of the Coast. Really, any dungeon tile set can be used in a 3D environment with a bit of ingenuity. Use wooden dowels, empty thread spools, or anything else you have lying around to set up the tiles on different levels.

My current favorite for 3D terrain, however, is the Terraclips line by WorldWorks Games and Wryd Miniatures. This is pre-printed, paperboard terrain that comes with clips to assemble large 3D buildings and city environments. There is talk of more sets with more of a nature theme being released in the next few months. I used these in combat for the first time a few nights ago, and I have to say that I was 100% impressed. My players enjoyed the scenario, and it had a very “rumble in the streets” feel to it. Again, this line is modular, so it can be used many, many times over without feeling dull.

In the End

When all is said and done, it does not matter what method you choose, just get some 3D combat into your game. You do not need to use it every time you have an encounter, but it is a great way to jazz up a fight. I took the time to recreate part of the encounter from the other night using only 2D tokens and battle maps. Which would you rather fight in?

Would your players prefer this flat battle . . .

. . . or something a little more eye-popping?

My groups have a clear preference, and I am betting yours will as well.

In future posts, I will help with identifying the small issues that 3d combat can create for people who normally play on 2d battle maps. For now, here are some references to help inspire your 3D terrain plans:

  • How to build a glass flight grid, by TheSheDM
  • For modelers, Benoit at Roving Band of Misfits has several great articles on building battlefield terrain
  • Heroscape terrain can be found pretty cheap on Ebay, but you will likely need to gently modify your rules to use it (another future post)
  • Torq Stevens at Stuffer Shack has some pictures of inspiring 3D terrain he has built
  • On Google+, Mike Amend points out, “. . .what about adding some flavor with home decorations? Fish tank ruins are the perfect size for a table top map. Halloween village accessories at your local craft store is also a great way to get tomb stones, caskets and piles of skulls.”
  • Though it is somewhat harder to justify in D&D, Stephen Sanford on Google+ suggests that you just use your entire house and a ruler for a session or two of Honey, I Shrunk the Adventurers. Brilliant!

Do you ever use all three dimensions in combat scenarios in your game? What techniques do you use? Can you recommend any other links for the resources list on this page?

Categories: Blogs

Turning it up to Eleven

Tue, 01/24/2012 - 18:05

Sometimes, ten just isn’t enough. Sometimes, you need to turn it up to eleven.

Shady dealings are going on in the trading house's basement.

My home D&D campaign has two different groups of players making up two separate adventuring parties. I try my best to be awesome to both of them, but the reality is that my Tuesday night crew gets the short end of the stick.

My players arrive between 6:30 and 7:30, depending how work went that day. We always have a home cooked meal before we begin our game, since everyone had has a long day and we all need a chance to unwind. We almost never start play before 8:00 at the earliest, with 8:30 or 9:00 being common. Often, we are just too mentally tired to invest in the game, and we devolve into Wrath of Ashardalon or another board game. This is, of course, not counting the weeks we need to outright cancel because of too many other commitments.

With all of this going on, I just feel bad for my players. We always have a great time, but I generally don’t bring my A-game to the table on Tuesday nights.

Not tonight.

I have had this encounter planned for months, since the holidays forced us to take a break. My normal encounters go up to ten, which is pretty awesome, but tonight’s encounter – tonight’s encounter goes up to eleven.

If technology allows, tonight’s game will be streamed live on UStream. I will post the link if that does happen. Highlights will hopefully be put together to show some of the aspects that I feel make this encounter special. Then again, I am surprisingly bad at multimedia technology, so we will see how that goes.

Do you have a gaming group that suffers due to when it meets? What do you do to craft encounters that feel special, and outside of the norm? What interest do you have in game-session footage or audio as a portion of this blog?

The Cracked Flagon Tavern lies below a pier in a rough part of the docks. It is a know haven for criminals, and a suspected home for the remaining wererat menace. The docks is one of the busiest neighborhoods of the city. This is the one place where the destitute, sailors, laborers, and soldiers all have a reason to frequent. Gamblers congregate at a table in the trading house. They want to win some coin while drowning their troubles. If only that damnable fool would let them be. This is my first build using Terraclips by WorldWorks games and Wyrd Miniatures. In a future post, I will cover different option for 3d terrain and its advantages in encounter design. The Cracked Flagon tavern is old, moldy, and a suspected wererat haven. Shady dealings are going on in the trading house's basement.


Categories: Blogs

Skill Challenges – Needle in a Haystack

Thu, 01/19/2012 - 15:02

When you run a skill challenge, give players choices beyond which skill to use.

A young boy holds a pair of binocular up to his eyes while looking excited.

Trying to find a specific location in the wilderness is a great opportunity for a skill challenge, especially when you are an overexcited kid with binoculars.

Skill challenges provide a way to engage the entire party in something other than combat. A well-formed skill challenge can pull quiet players out of their shell, and they can also provide a structure in which more dynamic players can still thrive. Giving your players choices beyond which skills to use in the challenge makes the entire process feel more authentic and enjoyable for everyone at the table.

In my most recent game session, the players decided to kill off the chief of the gnoll raiders in the forest near their frontier capital. The players specifically wanted to find the primary camp of the gnolls and stage a raid so they could lure out the chief and kill her. Since I had made a detailed hex map of the area, I decided to put it to use as part of the skill challenge of finding the camp.

The Challenge

To begin with, I provided a map to my players of the frontier province they were exploring. Areas of note included a swamp containing friendly trolls and the path they walked to enter the forest. Each hex is about two and a half miles across – a reasonable area to inspect fully in one day.

I set the following requirements for this skill challenge:

Timeline: The heroes have fifteen days of supplies with them. If they cannot find the hex containing the gnoll camp within fifteen days, they must return home.

Relevant Skills: The following skills were of use on this challenge – Intimidate, Nature, and Stealth, each at a medium DC.

Inspecting a hex: Inspecting a single hex takes one day, and the players may choose any hex to inspect on that day. Going once around the table, the party (five players) must pass each of the skills once in order to determine if the camp is located in that hex.

Failure: Failing at one day’s checks gives no progress and increases the encounter level against the gnoll chieftain by one, since the gnolls perceive the heroes as a threat.

Success: Passing all three skill checks with the five rolls from the party reveals if the camp is in that hex. Passing for all three skills with one additional success also lets the party reveal if the camp is in either two adjacent hexes or one non-adjacent hex. Passing for all three skills with two additional successes (a full party success) also lets the party reveal if the camp lies along a specific border or allows five hexes of the players’ choice to be revealed. The first full party success will reveal the half of the province in which the camp is not located (by either and east/west or north/south split).

Special Choices: The path the heroes followed into the province could be inspected two hexes at a time, since they had already covered some of that ground. The players could also choose to inspect two hexes in a day, but that would increase the difficulty from a medium to a hard DC. Trolls allied with the PCs let them know that the gnolls were not based in the swamp.

I chose to be upfront with my players about their timeline, the minimal results of passing, the possibility that more successes would yield greater results, and everything in the special choices section.

On their first day of searching, they chose a hex to the southeast of the hills, and they passed with flying colors! With their first full success, I immediately let them know that the camp had to be to the west of where they were searching. Using PowerPoint, I marked off the hexes they knew did not contain the camp.

I should point out that allowing the players to decided where to search almost cut this skill check short. On the first day of searching, they players were strongly debating inspecting the hex that contained the camp. While this would have ended my skill challenge before it even really got going, it would also have given the players the thrill of “beating” the DM at his own game. We all love that feeling when we play, so I wasn’t about to deny it to my players if they managed to luck out on this one. Thankfully, they instead chose an “empty” hex.

A couple days of decent success let them eliminate most of the path they had traveled into the province, and a failure made the gnolls less afraid of the heroes. This allowed me to telegraph that failures would make the gnolls harder to defeat in the end.

It is another full-party success, and the heroes chose to reveal if the camp lied along the southern “river” border of the province. A few smaller successes helped to fill in more of the area. At this point, I expect them to find the camp at any point.

With another full-party success, the players decided to fully inspect the northern border.

Another couple of failures increased the threat of the encounter with the gnoll chieftain by another two levels. At this point, when they do find the camp, the combat there would be much more of a challenge. A full-party success on day fifteen allowed the heroes to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat and locate the gnoll camp at the base of the hills.


This challenge went smoothly, but failure was possible even with the luck of the dice on the players’ side. This type of challenge works best when a complete failure really does not mean a dead-end for the story. In the case, failure to assassinate the gnoll chieftain would only make it more difficult when the heroes eventually march their army into this province and try to bring settlement to the frontier.

In this case, when the payers succeeded, they knew it was in part due to the choices the made, not just their luck at rolling a d20. That type of empowerment is a great thing to hand your players, since it helps to reinforce the idea that their decisions really do matter and they are active participants in the story.

Credit Where Credit is Due

While the mechanics are different, I stole this idea for a searching-based skill challenge with a component of human decision from my friend Ian’s Dark Sun game, where he had us Templars kicking down doors in Urik as we tried to find a prison escapee. He used MapTool to show our party’s position on an actual aerial view of Baghdad, which was just fantastic.

How do you incorporate player decision making into skill challenges? What types of tools, like the maps in this challenge, do you use to show progress? How have you varied your skill challenges from the norm to add a little spice to your game?

Categories: Blogs

Back in the Saddle

Wed, 01/18/2012 - 16:05

Blood, Sweat, and Dice will be returning to a regular posting schedule beginning tomorrow.

I owe all of my readers an apology for the unannounced hiatus. I am sorry. You can find the reasons for the unplanned break in content in my most recent Google+ post. This is a blog about running role-playing games, not my personal life, so you are welcome to check out the explanation there if it suits you.

I want to say, “Thank you,” to everyone who has waited patiently for Blood, Sweat, and Dice to return. I am back.

Categories: Blogs

The Power of Surprises

Thu, 10/20/2011 - 15:28

Engage your players by surprising them, not just their characters.

a surprised "smiley"

If your players look like this when surprised, call the doctor. They have turned into a smiley.

It can be so hard to surprise your players these days. The stats on every magic item are available in a digital, indexed format. The population at large is far more knowledgeable about common literary tropes than ever before. There is a pervasive feeling of, “It’s all been done before.”

As game masters, how do we combat this growing cynicism and craft a word that is unique and full of surprises? We keep our yappers shut and do not say a dang thing to our players.

Okay, that may not be entirely true, but it is a good lesson to keep in mind. The temptation to share just a little bit of our plans and secrets can be nearly overwhelming at times, but learning to hold back and not reveal anything can greatly enhance your game.

On many weekends, I play in a fantasy LARP called simply the Realms, a persistent game world that has been running for roughly 25 years. Very, very few of the original players or game masters remain, and with 16 years in the game, I am one of the most seasoned veterans at this point. This past weekend, my in-game nation, Chimeron, marched to war.

In the first battle of the first day of fighting, our line of soldiers formed up opposite the goblins, trolls and snake men of the enemy army. The battle began and our line advanced, when from the other side of a small hillock , a lone battle cry erupted. “Fight! Fight to defend Chimeron!” Running over the hill was Sir Shane Cambeul, avatar of the god of war and former hero of the nation of Chimeron. The soldiers could not help but cheer and scream, and we broke formation and charged the enemy line with a ferocity that will likely be retold around camp fires for years.

Why was this so special? Colin, the guy who plays Sir Shane, has not been to a Realms LARP event in close to ten years. His character, Shane, is now something of a legend, with tales of his exploits and status as the ascended avatar of the god of war being told and retold to each new generation of players. This all would have made it really neat and fun to fight by his side for the weekend, but the real kicker was that no one knew Colin was even at the LARP event. When he charged over the hill, it was a complete and total surprise to all of the players.

After the LARP event was over, my buddy, the game master for the event, turned to me and exclaimed, “You have no idea how hard this was. I have been sitting on this secret for three months!” I do not doubt that it was very, very difficult to tell no one outside if his core staff about his plans, but that effort was repaid by the shock and surprise experienced by the players.

Bringing It Back to the Table

In your tabletop game, surprises and secrets are just as useful a tool for engaging your players. Just like at the LARP event, however, it is important to surprise not only the characters, but your players as well. A treasure chest turning into a mimic might surprise the party fighter, but his player is likely used to that trope by now. If you want to really engage your players this way, you need to pull one over on the players themselves. Violate their sense of normalcy in the game, and they will be engaged, even if that violation is small.

If you are stuck on how to surprise your players, these are a few tricks you might try at some point:

Write out a secret note from an NPC and leave it at the table for the players to find. This can be as simple as writing it on an index card and dropping it on the table when the player next to you is not looking. Keep playing as if nothing has happened. When the player finds the index card is when the character finds the note.

Place a new piece of equipment on the player’s character sheet. It could be a gift from an anonymous benefactor, a sign from the gods, or a manifestation of the artifact they are seeking. Alternatively, you could replace a power card with a new power even go so far as to change their race or class. You should only make such strong changes with a solid story reason, and you should be careful to choose a player who will not mind trying something new. The point is not to say, “Jim, your character is a wizard now,” but instead get Jim to say, “Wait a minute, why can I suddenly throw lightning bolts?”

Greet the players “in-character” as the local baron or similar dignitary, and escort them to a table where you have their character sheets set up as well as a nice meal. Invite them to dinner. This could be a social skill challenge or just a role-playing chance to further your campaign story.

Place a few item cards in a plastic, waterproof container and set it up as a geocache. Give the coordinates to the players as the result of a math puzzle they find in a dungeon.

Set up a blog that is actually the journal of an important NPC. Drop hints about it to your players, but do not outright speak about it. When the players find the blog, the heroes have found a magical book that copies everything the NPC writes in his or her journal.

The big lesson here is that when you do anything like this, do not telegraph it to your players. If you place a geocache, do not tell your players you are doing it, even if you insist it is for some other reason. If you set up the blog-journal, then do not talk to your players about how you have been working hard on a website. You want to surprise the players, so make it real.

How have you surprised the players at your table? What have you tried to break the expectations of the game? Do you find players to be more cynical of the traditional fantasy trappings than they used to be?

Categories: Blogs

Safe at Home

Thu, 10/13/2011 - 14:29

Giving your heroes a home base opens up new options for fun at the table.

a castle

Keeps and castles are a staple of old school "paragon level" play.

How old were you when you started playing Dungeons and Dragons? If the answer to that question ends in, “-teen,” then you probably at some point spent hours and hours hunched over sheets of graph paper, meticulously drafting your favorite character’s castle, house, grove, or ship. Homework left untouched and fingers black with graphite dust, days could go into perfecting this imaginary space. One need only look at the castles people build in Minecraft to see that for many gamers, this desire for creation and design does not really go away in adulthood.

Give Them What They Want

Do the heroes in your game have a home base? Since basic D&D, heroes have always been able to use their hard-earned loot and prestige to get fancy digs. Giving the heroes a base of operations can provide all sorts of adventure hooks. If the heroes are gifted a frontier keep by a grateful noble, then they will need to defend it from savage orc barbarians. If they take up a life of opulence and luxury in a major city, then their home may be at the center of all sorts of scandalous rumors. Basing out of old dungeon they have cleared is certainly a viable option, but what happens when the original owner comes to take it back? Giving the heroes a space to call home and then drawing it into the story can help engage your players.

cover shot of DMGR2 The Castle GuideAs a player, a big part of the fun of having a stronghold lies in the design. Make this part of your game! Let the players design their own fort, and then let them know how much time and gold it will cost to build. One good reference for this, and many other aspects of medieval life, is DMGR2 The Castle Guide from Dungeons and Dragons 2e. Wizards of the Coast released this book as a free PDF a while ago, though it is no longer on their website. You can find copies online, though I am unsure of the legality of their distribution since Wizards took it down. You can also purchase a dead tree copy from any of several used game shops online. Another option is find a copy of the Birthright campaign setting, which contained rules for building castles as part of ruling a domain.

Once the PCs have a design on paper, convert it to a full (1″ = 5′ scale) battle map. This could end up being huge, but it is also a great tool to have handy in your campaign. If you really want to have the base be a focal point of the campaign, then there are all sorts of low cost printable, customizable terrain options on the web. Pick up an appropriate set and you can really go to town, giving your players time to build their base in 3D.

The Plan for My Game

In my home campaign, one of the parties has settled down as the lord and leaders of a frontier province. They have established a capital city, which is now really just a village, and they hope to grow at the game years go by. I have been wondering how to make this work as a battle map, and I think I came up with an answer.

The base will be a very large grass battle mat. From there, all of the buildings, roads, etc. can be modular, as separate pieces laid on top of the mat. Players can design their own buildings, like the wizard’s smithy, and choose their location. Now, as the village grows and the heroes add things like a fort and maybe eventually a full castle, they can just be added as a modular piece to the map as needed. Keeping all of the components modular means that the village will take a bit more time to set up when it is needed, but I will have all of the components available for other scenarios when I am hosting a different crew. Being a bit of a 3d terrain junky, I think this could be a lot of fun.

Giving heroes a home within the game world increases their stake in many aspects of the game. Give it a try and see how your players like it. I will include any results people share with my own results in a future post, once the village terrain gets off the ground in my home game.

Do the players in your game already have a place to call home? Do you map it out, or just play things fast and loose when it comes to specifics? Are there any books, supplements, or websites you recommend for would-be stronghold builders?

Categories: Blogs

Turn-Based Dungeon Exploration

Tue, 10/11/2011 - 14:59

Running exploration similarly to combat means that all players can be engaged.

a dungeon entrance

Dungeons are the classic location for exploration.

Exploration play can be one of the most fun aspects of a good role-playing game session. Many players enjoy the sense of discovery and the apprehension of what can be lurking around the next corner. Exploration play is also a scenario where many players feel lost and confused. It can easily favor those with stronger imaginations, louder mouths, or a better grasp of the rules, depending upon the precise style you choose. Let’s level the exploration playing filed so all players can engage in that part of the adventure.

Every Player Should be Engaged

In my home game, I tried to first identify what I wanted out of exploration play at my table. I came up with the following list:

  • It should be easy for all players to engage in exploration.
  • The space should be sufficiently complex to support meaningful discovery
  • Heroes should get to move or do something every time it is their turn – multiple turns for a single action is no fun

This list lead me to the idea of handling exploration in initiative order, much like combat. We roll initiative once, at the beginning of the exploration, and keep the same order as players move and reveal new terrain. Just like in 4e combat, each player gets a standard, move, and minor action before we switch to the next. By going in turn order, every player has a chance to participate, regardless of if his or her character is optimized for exploration.

A common complaint about such structured play is that it limits good role-playing and creativity. This does not need to be the case at all. As the dungeon master, your roll is to encourage creative thinking and people taking actions that make in-character sense. You are not limiting the players’ ability to take unique actions – you are just limiting their ability to do so at the expense of the involvement of other players.

a large map of a dungeon, drawn at the 5'=1" scale normally used for battle mats

Large dungeons with many choices are the best for exploring. Having the entire dungeon pre-drawn as a battle map allows the players to freely explore as they wish.

Some Changes Are Needed

In order to use turn-based exploration, you may need to make a few changes to the game is played. These changes are specific to Dungeons and Dragons 4e, but they give an idea of what sort of changes could be needed in any game.

A round is a fairly arbitrary unit of time. Do not stick to the six-second rule for a combat round. Allow as much conversation between players as they would like, so long as it is not just a couple of them belaboring a point and preventing the others from taking their turns. Remember that the goal of this style is player involvement, not simulation.

Lessen the time needed to perform common actions. Searching is normally a standard action and applies to a limited area. Instead, make searching a minor action, and have it apply to the entire distance moved by the hero that turn. This keeps play moving and reveals new terrain at a good pace. Similarly, consider having actions like detecting magic with Arcana and some rituals only take a standard action to perform when exploring this way. No player want to miss 10+ rounds of action because his or her characters is taking a complex action, and other players at the table may resent being asked to have their characters “just sit tight” for several rounds.

Combat begins when it begins, not at the top of the order. If the heroes encounter some monster half way through a turn, just roll with it. Yes, this can slightly penalize characters and monsters who are built around going first, but they still get that bonus almost all of the time.

As your players explore the dungeon, you may need to tweak a few more rules to help them fit. No one at the table generally minds having the rules slightly altered to make the game flow easily, especially when it is in the players’ favor.

Prepare, Prepare, Prepare Miniatures are on a large dungeon battle mat. Most of the battle mat is covered in index cards, blocking the players' view of what lies beneath.

Set your map out ahead of time. Index cards make a great fog of war because they are cheap, a decent size, and can be moved easily.

For this sort of setup to work, you need to front load a good deal of your work as a DM. The advantage of this approach is that running your dungeon is a cakewalk once exploration begins.


Set up your dungeon ahead of time. Lay your dungeon out on the game table before any of the players arrive. Once it is out, make liberal use of the fog of war. I have found that index cards make for great fog of war on 2d terrain, and a light bed sheet isd’t bad on 3d terrain. Just pull back the fog of war as the heroes explore further and further into the unknown.

Make it difficult to take short rests. Maybe there are monsters trying to chase the heroes out of the dungeon. Maybe the walls are collapsing around them. Maybe necrotic energy is sucking away their life energy. The reason doesn’t matter – just make it risky to take a short rest. This is primarily to prevent abuse of certain powers, like those that give hefty skill bonuses, but it also adds a new layer of dread for the PCs.

Design most of your encounters at half or two-thirds normal power. Even the best parties get a bit spread out when they are exploring. You cannot count on the fighter being able to get to the rogue and take some hits before the rogue will go down, so make your encounters slightly easier than normal. Combined with few or no short rests, this can make for a great exercise in resource management for the players.

Include some beneficial terrain. A magic circle where leaders can use their Healing Word type power without it counting against their encounter limit is a great choice.  The real goal here is to reward the players who take the time to really investigate the dungeon.

Provide brief, but rich, descriptions for every room. Have no blank rooms or hallways. Provide descriptions of furniture, carving, the smell of the mold, and anything else you can think of for every location. Write them all down ahead of time, like you see in the older adventure modules. Exploration is not as engaging when the hero enters yet another blank room.

If you take the time to prepare an exciting, dynamic exploration scenario, your players will thank you. If you go one step further, and take actions to ensure every player can equally engage in the content, then you will have a really great adventure on your hands.

How do you handle dungeon exploration in your game? What might you change, if anything, for using this approach for exploration in an outdoor setting? How do you engage players who tune out during exploration?

Categories: Blogs

Into the Sandbox – Casting Plot Hooks

Thu, 10/06/2011 - 17:53

Quietly redundant plot hooks can push your players in the right direction.

A lone man sits on the ice. He is ice fishing.

Any moment now, the fish will come. Any moment now.

I think it is great that we try to engage our players in the stories we craft through a tool called “plot hooks”. Plot hooks make me think of fishing, and the analogy could not be more apt.

Have you ever gone fishing?

For the uninitiated, allow me to explain how fishing works. You go out on a boat/a dock/the ice and you put a hook in the water with a little bit of bait on it. Then you wait for the fish to come and take the bait, getting caught on your hook.

Except the fish don’t come.

You wait and wait and wait, and no fish ever take your dang hook. Sure, some people get lucky in the first five minutes they are at the lake, but they are by far the exception, not the rule. You could be here all day, and you might not get so much as a nibble.

Plot hooks are like fish hooks. Even the best DMs sometimes just cannot get the party to take the bait on a particular plot point. Knowing your group well helps, as does general experience at the table, but sometimes you just cannot get the players to bite.

How can you get the players to grab the hook and move the story forward without forcing their hand? You can troll them.

Trolling: Maybe Not What You Expected The trollface character is fishing off the side of a dock, with a trollface hook, trying to catch angry face "fish".

If this is your idea of trolling when fishing, you may want to go outside more often.

Trolling is when you go out on a boat and drag several lines behind you, each line with a baited hook. It works because it is not much more effort for you to troll with several hooks than it is to troll with just one. The fish, however, never see that you are dragging several baited lines. They are just more likely to see a hook and go for it. The fish is oblivious to your strategy – it just likes bait.

One way that our games do a very poor job of mirroring the nature of the real world is that the players can only know what we tell them. In the real world, people are being bombarded with constant data from their surroundings, and their brains can put together a complex understanding of the universe from this information. In our games, the players get, “You search the room carefully and find a small golden pin underneath one jar of alchemical reagents.”

You will frequently hear DMs talk about how their PCs are dumb. This usually is not the case – the players are just not mind readers. Even when we give them all of the information they theoretically need to advance the story, they may not realize it. If they do realize it, they may be wary for other reasons. If we want to catch the players with our plot, we need to cast out multiple hooks.

In my first article about playing in a sandbox environment, I provided an example of how to use flow charts to plan a campaign story arc. Looking back on this example, I had several hooks that could lead to a confrontation with the Manslayer. Over the course of five levels, the heroes actually grabbed onto a few of these hooks. By the time the Manslayer began massing his army, the heroes had plenty of reasons to stop him. Setting the hook and reeling them in was easy.

Let’s say you want the heroes to investigate the abandoned Keep of the Scarlet Torch and discover a hidden sect of Vecna cultists that live there. Do not just have them overhear about the keep while staying at the local inn. Plan out a few different hooks for them to grab onto if they wish.

  1. A young woman has gone missing – her best friend says she planned to meet a handsome eladrin man at the old keep and never returned.
  2. The brewer’s hops vines have caught the blight and died. The hops at the keep were said to be blight-resistant, but they are jealously guarded by goblin brewers who have taken up in the barracks.
  3. When riding past the keep at night, the party wizard sees a red light shining in the uppermost room of the tallest tower. This is odd, since the other heroes see nothing.
  4. A local family had a recently deceased loved one disinterred because he was accidentally buried with an important heirloom. Imagine their surprise when they find the body is missing. If the PCs investigate, they will find that missing bodies have recently become common in all the villages surrounding the keep.

You do not need to share all of these hooks at once; you do not need to share them all at all. The real advantage of having these hooks is that you can give a story tie-in no matter what the party chooses to do in the area. Since none of the hooks tie in directly with the Vecna cult, you can flesh out others if the PCs decide to pursue them once the Vecna cultists have been dealt with.

By setting out many hooks, you increase the odds that the players will find one interesting and run with it. By making the hooks only indirectly related to the central story element, you do not risk the players getting annoyed when you repeatedly smash them over the head with a clue-by-four.

If you are also using a flow chart, then come up with a few hooks that fill the gaps between any two connected spaces on the chart. If the elf’s mother has important information for her, then have several reasons ready for why the elf might need to travel back to her homeland. If war is brewing, then plot out a few different ways by which the heroes can get to the climactic battle. You are not reducing choice to an illusion – you are simply stacking the deck in response to the limited information the players can glean about the game world. It all comes back to that idea that in the real world we take in and process far more information than any DM could ever provide to a player.

If you have a plot point that you want the heroes to find, make sure you set out plenty of varied hooks to get the players running in that direction. If you rely on a single hook, you may end up like that guy on the ice, waiting for fish that are not going to bite.

Do you use multiple plot hooks in your sandbox-style games? How do you avoid the problem of the PCs simply not knowing what they can or should do next? Is it “cheating” to give the players more than one shot at discovering something, or is it just good practice?

Categories: Blogs

Making Magic Items Special Again

Tue, 10/04/2011 - 16:01

Use inherent bonuses to make magic items feel special in your game.

A hand rises from a lake, lifting Excalibur from the water. A knight looks on.

Arthur earned Excalibur because he was great. He was not great because he wielded Excalibur.

Fantasy literature is rife with magical swords, amulets, cloaks, and many other enchanted items, but there is a unifying theme to most all of the magical objects in our favorite stories: they are special. Bilbo did not find his bravery fighting spiders with his +2 dagger of goblin slaying, he wielded Sting. Richard Cypher faces his foes with the Sword of Truth, not a Holy Avenger +5. Even the quasi-magical Valyrian steel blades from Game of Thrones bear unique names and storied histories.

Contrast this with the standard swords and sorcery fantasy game, where magic items are ubiquitous, mechanical tools for character progression. In both Pathfinder and Dungeons and Dragons 4e, magic items are a necessity for a character to “keep up” with the monsters and bad guys as he or she levels up. In many ways, a 15th level warrior without his or her +3 magic sword is really a 9th level warrior with a couple more feats and hit points. The equipment makes the hero.

This progression-based necessity of magic items makes them feel much less special. Monte Cook wrote a great Legends and Lore article about this very topic (and the inspiration for this article), which I strong recommend you check out.

Keeping Up with the Joneses Goblins

You can activate the inherent bonuses in the 4e Character Builder by clicking on the "Manage Character" tab and then the "Inherent Bonuses" check box. The check box is highlighted in this picture (click to enlarge).

By far, the best solution I have seen for this problem is through the use of inherent bonuses. Simply award your players with the proper bonuses to their attack rolls, defenses, and anything else necessary as part of the leveling-up process. For Dungeon Masters in 4e, this is an easy task. Pick up a copy of the Dungeon Master’s Guide 2 – the math is all in there. You can also check a box in the character builder that does this automatically.

This may not be news to experienced 4e Dungeon Masters, my experience on Twitter tells me that those who joined the fold via Essentials never learned about this great feature.

Inherent bonuses can be done in Pathfinder and 3e, but it may require a bit more finessing on the part of the game master. Since each class progresses differently with regards to expected defense and attack bonus levels, you would need to do some simple math to get your numbers to add up in a way that works for the system. It is worth the twenty minutes it might take you to figure this out for your party.

Why Do This?

Congratulations! With this simple change to your campaign, you are now free to do whatever you would like with magic items. Do you want to run a low-magic game? Now you can do so without worrying about the character power level falling too far behind the monsters. Do you want to reward to reward the party with a hugely powerful sword? You can now give a very “powerful” weapon to them without them going, “Yeah, it’s cool and all, but its bonus is only a +2.” This lets you focus on the fun aspects of magic items – the unique powers and special attributes. This solution even lets you get rid of the magic item shops that seem to be a requirement in every major city.

Besides allowing me to run my game in a low-magic setting, my favorite part of inherent bonuses is that they have allowed me to completely ignore the magic item lists when delivering loot to the heroes. If I want them to get a fun item, I can just design one that is interesting, rather than worrying about the mechanical bonuses of the object.

Give this a try and be open with your players about why you are using this approach. Be clear that they will still be just as “powerful” as before, but now you can focus on giving them items that are interesting and carry more flavor. I have not yet encountered a player who got upset that I gave them their bonuses automatically, rather than attached to an item that will be useless in a few levels. You can even consider allowing the players to earn magic items far above their current level, since the bonus is no longer a factor. No matter what, separating magic items from the numbers treadmill is a choice for your game you are not likely to regret.

Do you use inherent bonuses in your game? How could they impact the feel of your campaign? Do you use a different method of making magic items feel special again?

Categories: Blogs

In Favor of the Shorter Adventure

Thu, 09/29/2011 - 15:11

Shorter adventures break up the campaign story into chunks that are easy for the Dungeon Master to run and easy for the players to understand.

The Demon Queen's Enclave adventure cover

"Behold for it is I, the demon queen . . . who is really a drow . . . or maybe I am one of her lieutenants. I suddenly wish my picture had more context."

My first experience with Dungeons and Dragons 4e was as a player in Demon Queen’s Enclave. One of my buddies had picked up the adventure, and he wanted to give a shot at DMing a paragon tier adventure. Two years and three more levels of twice-a-month gaming later, we had vanquished the evil drow queen and what seemed likely to be every other drow within a five hundred mile radius. The adventure was fun, and it served its role well as a stand-alone paragon mini-campaign. Outside of that context, I would have hated it.

This is not a review of Demon Queen’s Enclave, nor is this a criticism of my friend’s DMing skills, which were solid. This is a critique of the long adventure as a tool that is frequently used by both game designers and game masters.

The adventure is probably the core trope of swords & sorcery style games. Heroes get a quest, go on the adventure, and then come back home with loot in hand and experience under their belts. It is classic, and it provides a solid narrative framework on which to hang the story. Problems can arise, however, as stories grow more complex.

At its core, Demon Queen’s Enclave is a neat story about warring factions within a drow city. The heroes travel through the underdark to the city, explore the city, and then navigate another plane in their quest to destroy the drow matron. Along the way, the heroes must negotiate or fight with the different factions who wish to use them as pawns. By itself, this is not a problem – it is, in fact, a pretty solid adventure concept. The problem lies in the details, and the details are what made this adventure worth three levels of encounters.

When in Doubt, Cut it Out

Typical of many adventures, Demon Queen’s Enclave was rife with encounters that contributed little to the story. Fighting spiders on a bridge over a chasm was certainly heroic, and it was a fun encounter, but at the end of the battle we had progressed the story no further than simply conquering another challenge. The encounter itself was story-neutral. This was true for many of the encounters. Truthfully, these encounters often did reveal some small bit of culture or interesting flavor, but these bits could have been communicated just as easily through narration or a briefer exploration segment.

Taking this lesson to our own tables, it is important that we look at each encounter we design and consider if it is really necessary. Some adventures need a few filler encounters to make the challenge sufficient for the players. In long, complex adventures, however, filler encounters rarely help things. Instead, they just take time away from the real meat of the story.

Make it Fast and Difficult

As GMs, we should look for ways to make our adventures exciting and challenging. No one gets upset that an adventure only has three encounters if they are three great encounters that leave the party hanging by a thread at the end. Players appreciate a story that is told with brief, meaningful, powerful segments.

The mid-heroic climax adventure for one of the parties in my campaign had only four encounters:

  1. A battle between the elven army of Rhuobhe Manslayer and the army of men under the PCs
  2. A large combat encounter where the heroes began isolated from each other and engaged with elven skirmishers and soldiers
  3. A skill challenge to represent the heroes lead their army into the elven tree city
  4. The climactic battle between the Manslayer and the heroes’ mentor in the narrow walkways and rope bridges of the tree city, where the heroes had to use that distraction to accomplish another goal

Two encounters, an army-scale battle (using house rules), and a skill challenge – that is it. I told my entire story in two game sessions and with roughly half a level’s worth of experience award. The action was fast and furious, and then it was over.

The big advantage of this strategy is time. The group had plenty of time for role-playing, debating strategies, and doing all sorts of things besides the “required content”. They players got a full narrative arc in a brief period of time, and they could easily follow the story through the adventure.

Dealing with Complexity

Not all stories can be easily crammed into a single adventure of four challenges. Most good stories need much more time and complexity to be addressed in a meaningful way. How can we tell complex stories using shorter adventures? The answer is chapters.

While each adventure should be a full narrative arc n its own right, those arcs can be assembled into a larger picture. The adventure I describe above was the climactic chapter in a story that lasted over many adventures. The players got to make difficult choices, plan out long-term strategies, and explore the world while still knowing that any given story chunk would remain a digestible size. Authors use this technique in novels and in plays; we should do the same in our games.

The Tomb of Horrors book cover

Raiding Acererack's tomb never gets old.

More recent “super-adventures” published by Wizards of the Coast follow this strategy. The most recent iteration of the Tomb of Horrors provides for several adventures that move its plot forward, with space available in between for the DM to add in custom campaign content. Madness at Gardmore Abbey is similar, but it goes one step further and weaves a framework where there is no one set path to the conclusion – adventures can be accomplished in different orders and with different approaches.

Breaking up stories into multiple adventures makes the entire structure easier for the players to wrap their brains around. It helps avoid the feeling of, “Are we still in this dungeon?” Most importantly, it pushes the DM to craft scenarios whose challenge takes place in a limited, more intense range, which is more fun for everyone.

How do you craft adventures in your home game? Is there a certain number of encounters that you find to be ideal? What has your experience been with pacing when running published adventures?

Categories: Blogs

Winter is Coming – Terrain Powers in a Guest Post

Tue, 09/27/2011 - 05:34

 An RPG Blog Festival"

The Winter is Coming blog festival is in full force, organized Jim (Wombat) White. You should really check it out. Many skilled writers and game designers have contributed all sorts of winter-themed content. This is a great opportunity to introduce your players to the harsh realities of a frozen adventure.

Instead of writing my usual post here on Blood, Sweat, and Dice today, I encourage you to drop by Wombat’s Gaming Den of Iniquity and check out my guest post there. By now you know my love for terrain powers, and this guest post give you three new terrain powers for a snowy and icy environment. These powers are useful on any wintry battle map, but they are specifically designed to be compatible with the Caverns of Icewind Dale dungeon tile set.

Please, check out my guest post and take a look at the other articles  in the carnival. I will monitor the article and try to respond to any comments or questions, like I always do. Thanks for reading!

Categories: Blogs

Skill Challenges – The Woodland Sneak

Thu, 09/22/2011 - 15:00

Skill challenges can vary from the norms established in the Rules Compendium. Pass-or-total-failure checks can make for intense moments.

a gnollThis past week, the heroes in my game decided to sneak through a forest occupied by gnoll raiders. This seemed like a great opportunity for a skill challenge, but I always try to deviate from the proscribed norm in my skill challenges. I want every skill challenge to be different and feel unique in some way. Some level of mechanical repetition cannot be helped, but I do try to keep it fresh.

For this challenge, I took a moment to consider the culture of the gnolls in the area. Gnolls, at least in my game, rarely manage to band together into anything larger than a pack. Any groups of gnolls patrolling the woods would likely be much more interested in saving their own skin than in alerting the others or sending for help. If the party acted tough enough, they could probably discourage the cowardly gnolls from harming them.

For skills, I ran with:

  • Nature - for navigating the forest and finding their goal within
  • Athletics - for setting a brisk pace and helping the party to traverse the difficult terrain
  • Stealth - for avoiding the gnoll packs that patrol the woods

In a skill challenge, I require every player to contribute before anyone can try a second time, so I set my DCs to Medium. That would be enough of a challenge for untrained players, but it would give players that excelled in that skill a chance to shine. Eight required successes seemed like a fair number and would keep the challenge going for a bit without taking up too much time.

I did not want to use the normal failure mechanic in this challenge, so I decided to change it up. Failure at any skill would induce an immediate pass-or-total-failure skill check. In this case, I figured that a gnoll pack would get too close for comfort on a failed skill challenge roll, and the next hero would need to frighten the cowards off immediately or else the challenge would end. Play ran something like this:

Matt: “Liriel, how are you helping the party?”

Leanne: “I am going to use my elven grace to walk ahead and try to find the easiest path for the humans.”

Matt: “Okay, roll a Nature check.”

Leanne: ::rolls:: ::sighs:: “I got a thirteen.”

Matt: “This is just taking too much time – you cannot find an easy path for your friends to take, which slows down the party. The pack of gnolls you saw in the distance has decided to close on you while your movements are limited by the terrain. Miri, if you want to keep the party safe, you need to scare off these gnolls right now. Rolling an intimidate check can do that.”

Janna: “Oh yeah, I have got this. Miri lifts her spear high above her head and lets loose a blood-curdling cry.” ::does a fantastic Xena-style battle cry:: ::rolls:: “Twenty-nine! Who’s your barbarian?”

Matt: “The gnolls stop short of reaching you, thinking better of a confrontation. You are safe, for now.”

Failure on a skill check during the challenge meant that the next player needed to pass a difficult skill check for either intimidate (stated by the DM) or bluff (if suggested by the player). Failure on that second check would end the skill challenge, with a consequence based on the check that failed the challenge.

This challenge ran well. I am overt about when my players are in a skill challenge, allowing them to view it as tactical role-playing. I also have the players roll a simple initiative, with the highest player going first and then just going around the table from there. This meant that not every character was well qualified for scaring off the gnolls, and failure was a real possibility. They passed in the end, but only after two near-failures.

How do you mix up the skill challenge mechanic? What types of skill challenges would you like to see addressed in the future? How would you have handled this scenario differently?

Categories: Blogs

Into the Sandbox – Flow Charts

Tue, 09/20/2011 - 20:09

Flowcharts provide great flexibility when planning your campaign, but they also afford enough structure to make sure you never feel lost in your own game.

A young child plays in a sandbox.Sandbox-style game play, where players are free to explore and engage in the game world in a non-linear fashion, is often held up as a sort of ideal to which game masters should aspire. Done well, it is highly engaging for the players because they feel they have a real impact on their environment. This would all be wonderful, if it were not so gosh dang difficult to manage.

The single biggest obstacle to sandbox play is that you cannot predict every possible player action. Infinite options for player choices leads to an infinite amount of work for the game master, and that is no good at all. How, then, can a game master allow for sandbox style play without increasing prep time to unreasonable levels? My solution to this problem has been flowcharts.

Flowcharts are nothing new in the world of campaign design. Masterplan is a great software tool for campaign designers in Dungeons & Dragons 4e, and it has the advantage of being able to nest flowcharts within other flowcharts. This means that you can have one flowchart for your campaign, and each adventure on that chart can have its own flowchart, connected by a clickable link. It is a pretty solid choice, and I have enjoyed using it in the past.

If you are at all familiar with Dave Chalker’s 5×5 Method, then you may have realized that it is just a different approach to flowcharts. This big advantage of the 5×5 Method, to my way of thinking, is that it balances the competing narrative forces within your campaign. If you sometimes struggle with certain parts of your narrative arc overwhelming your campaign while others remain underdeveloped, then I strongly recommend you check out Dave’s work. Wait, scratch that – check out Dave’s work anyway. You will not be disappointed by it.

I prefer to use flowcharts when designing my campaigns because they limit the amount of extra prep I need to do when creating a sandbox environment. When designing my current campaign, I found that making a flowchart of the likely PC actions gave me a good idea of what I needed to be ready for.

To begin with, I saw no reason to make the start of my campaign sandboxy. Just like in a video game tutorial, I intentionally sacrificed player choice in favor of encouraging a specific feel. Beyond this, I feel like it is just sort of cruel to force the players to begin making decisions as their characters before they even have the chance to really get to know their characters.

To this end, I knew that there would be three major steps to the start of the campaign. I wanted the players to get to know each other’s characters, I wanted the characters to gel as a group, and I then wanted a semi-controlled environment to introduce the players to the open-ended nature of the game.

This leads to the first three sections of my flow chart, so I loaded up Masterplan and began my work. At this point the flowchart was really nothing more than a simple list, but I knew it would flesh out as I went forward.

After I had my initial steps, I knew that I wanted to introduce the sandbox nature of the campaign. Since the heroes had a mentor who employed them, I knew I could likely rein in any ideas they had that would not fit within the scope of the campaign or my GM style.

I immediately identified my main plot arc – a war would be fought against the wererats that were infesting that part of the continent. During the war, it would become clear that the wererats were really a diversion set up my Rhuobhe Manslayer, an ancient elf famed for his hatred of humans.

I wanted to add in a side plot, so I included a small, two-section plot arc that could revolve around the party wizard trying to tap some of the unclaimed, world-changing magics inherent in the land.

At this point, it became time to start fleshing out the main plot arc. I figured that I could plant evidence of Rhuobhe’s involvement during the war, which would probably lead to the need for confirmation. The heroes would not be able to convince armies to march against the Manslayer without real proof.

At this point I felt like I had a good couple options on the table, but I wanted to stay flexible. What if the heroes did not want to pursue the connection to the Manslayer? I needed another hook or two.

I knew that my players had been talking about trying to find a cure for the magical disease that turned people into wererats. Why not follow up on that lead? Developing a cure for lycanthropy seemed a bit powerful for early or mid heroic tier, but why not allow it? All it would do was prevent me from making wholesale use of lycanthropes as a recurring enemy theme, and I figured I would be sick of them once this arc was completed, anyway. Knowing all of this, I added in steps for creating and administering a cure for the wererat disease. A cured wererat could easily point the heroes at the Manslayer, so I used that as another approach to my expected climactic conflict.

At this point, drafting my flowchart had given me a good idea of what was happening in my campaign world, independent of the PCs. I knew that war would erupt in the frozen north, and the heroes might be there researching the cure for lycanthropy. This gave me an entirely new possible approach to the climax of the arc, where the heroes could get caught up in the war and eventually prove themselves so well that one would be rewarded with a frontier barony. Surely, the PC baron would help if his former mentor called on him for aid in battling Rhuobhe Manslayer.

At the last minute, I remembered that one of the players specifically wrote into her character’s back story that her father was a follower of the teachings of the Manslayer. If she returned home, then her mother could tell her about how her father left to go and fight by Rhuobhe’s side. Adding this final piece to the flowchart, I felt like I had addressed most any of the choices the PCs seemed likely to make.

The best part of this process? It took virtually no time, at least not when compared to crafting encounters, making interesting terrain for combat, and planning out original skill challenges. I had drafted not only the first half of the heroic tier of my campaign, but I had several options to pick from when the PCs decided to forge their own path. I would have been able to add a new path to my flowchart if the PCs had done something completely unexpected, but it seemed highly unlikely that they would take a course I had not thought about. In the end, they moved at least part way down all of the paths as they made their choices. If they moved too far off the path, I had a mentor character I could use to nudge them back in the direction of the final conflict.

This flowchart proved invaluable to me as the first part of the campaign went on. Since I was careful to address what seemed to be all of the likely concerns, my players never really had an idea that pushed them away from the directions I had already mapped out. Instead of railroading them, I had enough story options planned out that I could respond to their actions in a meaningful way. This meant that by the time the heroes and their mentor confronted Rhuobhe Manslayer, they were well aware that he appeared to be pulling the strings of puppets all over the continent. His deceptions ran deep enough that they knew they had not yet discovered everything.

I like using the flowchart method for planning campaign arcs, because it provides flexibility within enough structure to make organization fairly simple. If you take a reasonable amount of time to predict the likely actions of your heroes, you can be prepared and offer them a meaningful method of interaction when they start to really dig in the sandbox.

How do you plan your campaigns? What programs are helpful when you sit down to design a story arc? Is your home game a sandbox, or do you prefer to run a game with a more direct goal?

Categories: Blogs

Extra-site Participation

Mon, 09/19/2011 - 13:07

 An RPG Blog Festival"

I have a couple of news pieces I am excited to share with you.

First, I need to let you know that Winter is Coming. Jim White of Wombat’s Gaming Den of Iniquity is hosting a blog carnival to lead us into the colder months. I will be participating in this carnival, bringing you several wintry-themed terrain powers. There are many good writers in this carnival, so you should enjoy it.

Secondly, I have a new monthly article at This is My Game. If you like my writing, check out A New Game for the Mundane. In this series, I explore the potential of the old standbys that fill every hero’s equipment list.

If you have enjoyed the content on Blood, Sweat, and Dice, be sure to check out these other blogs as well. There is a lot of really good RPG stuff on the web now, and active participation can plant the seeds for excellent DMing.

Categories: Blogs