Campaign Design

A TimerLast week was the first session of my Wednesday night Roll20/Discord group’s new B/X campaign (a continuation of a long-running AD&D campaign that went on hiatus last year). Overall, I think it was a successful revival of the game with both the players and myself quickly falling back into both our roles and the lore of the setting.

There was one aspect of the group’s typical play-style that I was hoping to pre-empt, though: the tendency for the players to over-analyze and debate decisions both large and small so that the balance of any given session is 90% preparing for action and 10% action. While this interest in intense discussion can be taken as a compliment — they’re clearly invested! — it can cause things to drag out unnecessarily.

In the past, I had tried the typical solutions to such issues: random encounter checks, careful tracking of time, and depletion of exploration resources. These were useful tools, but not complete solutions because of two factors: (1) situations often arose where it would not be realistic to interrupt the party’s planning with random events or deplete resources (i.e., the characters are in a secure location with hours/days to spare); (2) any one player could prolong debates with clarifying questions about the situation directed at the Dungeon Master (sometimes relevant, sometimes not) even when a consensus to act had been built.

My solution to the problem of moving things along when the party could realistically be dilly-dallying within the game’s fiction has been to implement strict time limits on decisions on a meta-game level: ten seconds during combat rounds, one minute during exploration turns, five minutes while camping or in a secure location. Failure to make their decisions within those limits means time passes regardless of whether their debates and questions could have “realistically” fit within the time available to the adventurers. After all, we’re playing a game that makes abstractions all the time and there is no reason this approach shouldn’t extend to time management.*

That’s well-and-good as far as it goes, but I also needed to preempt any one player using up the party’s precious time — after all, if individuals are asking me questions and declaring intentions during an exploration turn, there is no way everything is getting resolved within one minute! It was then that the genius of the traditional party caller role become clear to me: a person that was responsible for facilitating a quick discussion of intentions amongst the party members — reminding them of the time limits and reining in those who would use up that time on their character’s individual actions — and then conveying that succinctly to the Dungeon Master for resolution. In short, the caller acts as the editorial voice for the party’s collective Id so that decisions can be made within the time limits imposed by the game’s referee.

The benefits of the caller role are numerous. First, having one person speak for the group means that the whole adventuring party will not be punished for any one player’s use of time unless that player happens to be the caller (in which case the party probably needs a new caller). I can also affirm that, for the Dungeon Master in terms of workload, this system is great: I just need to track the passage of time and not worry as much about making sure no one player is hogging the spotlight during what should be group endeavors. If the group decides to rotate the caller roll, it also becomes an effective way of gently pushing more passive players to step forward and find their voice.

It’s a bit early to give a final verdict on the system since it was our group’s first time trying both time limits and having a caller. There were definitely times the other players forgot to channel their intentions and questions through the caller and times I let them do so. Things did move along at a faster clip, though, and we will almost certain become better at this with practice. I’ll report back on this experiment after a few more sessions when it is clear whether this is a sustainable solution to issue of time management in game sessions.

* I’m not a complete monster, though. My time management rules allow for one thirty-minute discussion each game session without penalty for the purposes of detailed planning or debate during camping/party downtime.

 

An Ancient Dwarven Space Station Explodes

A scene somewhat similar to the explosive conclusion of the previous campaign

After a hiatus of more than a year and a half, my regular Wednesday night RPG group is returning to the campaign world in which they spent almost five years adventuring. During that time, they explored at least three mega-dungeons (depending on your criteria), had substantive interactions with nearly one thousand NPCs, thwarted at least four intricate conspiracies involving criminal enteprises and antagonistic polities, and finished things off by traveling to space where they defeated an ancient AI before it could open a stargate to unleash an armada of resource-hungry space dwarves. It would be accurate to say that I feel a bit of pressure to deliver an experience worthy of that legacy.

Fortunately, a combination of the choices made at the end of the previous campaign and in my work preparing for this continuation should help these new adventures feel like their own story rather than some kind of nostalgic echo of an epic that had reached its natural conclusion:

  • Within the campaign, the players’ solution to the main threat against their world — that AI-controlled space station and the imminent invasion by space dwarves — introduced a new problem on the same scale that is clearly their characters’ fault. To summarize quickly, the sentient sword that they carried for hundreds of sessions manipulated them into replacing the dwarven AI with Asmodeus, Lord of the DVLs (Dedicated Virtual Lifeforms). Asmodeus then preceded to use the stargate to open a portal to hell and unleash his hordes. Meanwhile, since DVLs powered just about all known magic, spells and enchanted items ceased functioning. The last decision the players made was to begin a search for an alternate source of magic to combat the evil their actions had brought into the world.
  • Outside the campaign, I decided that it would be interesting to try the B/X rules as reformulated in the Old School Essentials publications in place of the original campaign’s AD&D 1E ruleset. All the existing player characters were converted to the new system.

These two factors mean that this new campaign should be able to manage a full reset in terms of both content and form without losing the player buy-in established during their previous exploits. There’s obviously a clear goal to inspire and focus the returning characters — to fix what they broke — but there’s no obvious solution to that problem that would throttle player agency. Meanwhile, the sudden change to the in-game rules of the campaign world is echoed by the exterior ruleset change: the loss of magic is reinforced by the decrease in the power-level represented by the move from AD&D to B/X — it’s a brave new world in both realms!

Tonight is the first session of this new campaign, so it will be clear very soon if these factors help with the transition back into the Curabel campaign setting. For those interested in following these new adventures, check out the background documents on my campaign wiki — soon to be joined, I hope, by session summaries written by my players.

Temple Ruins

Temple Ruins – One of the Original Inspiration Images for the Curabel Setting

My plan to post my player’s session summaries with commentary hasn’t progressed much in the last few years. However, I have managed to put together a mediaWiki installation that includes those summaries — all but five out of two hundred and twenty-one! — along with much of the other campaign materials that were originally hosted on our group’s G+ community page. Here are the links to the relevant pages on the wiki, along with a quick description of what you can find there:

I hope to add the Excel spreadsheet of NPCs created by the players shortly (the DM version will need to remain secret a bit longer).

Readers might also be interested in the documents hosted on the wiki related to my group’s recently concluded Stars Without Number campaign and our upcoming return to the Curabel setting for a Old School Essentials (B/X D&D) campaign that I’m calling “Graveyard of Empires: After the Fall.” I will have more to say about both of those campaigns, especially the latter, in the coming months.

Detail of illustration by Luka Rejec

Let’s take a look under the hood … (Art by Luka Rejec)

Last week I published my first RPG product, an OSR module entitled Automata Run Amok designed to be an introductory adventure for low-level characters. I’ve been pleased with the reception so far and, barring unforeseen circumstances, there will be a much more substantive follow-up publication next year. Before going to work on that new project, though, I thought it might be good to discuss explicitly some of the design choices that shaped Automata. This post is the first in a series to tackle that subject and it focuses on that topic of perennial debate at the heart of most modules: map keys.

Platonic vs. Aristotelian Map Keys

There seem to be two schools of thought on keying maps for published RPG adventures. In more traditional products, like many of those created in the early days of the hobby by TSR, map keys read like the authors were transcribing the platonic ideal of a play-through for that module: copious text lays out the details of each location with the assumption that every Dungeon Master aims for the same tone and style of information management, that the DM has carefully read and at committed much of the product to memory, and that the group consists of well-behaved players who will dutifully listen to and absorb those details before acting. Everything needed to run the location is present, somewhere in the text, but there’s very little indication that the writers concerned themselves with the realities of variable humans interacting with their creations in real-time. An example of this would be the key entry for the Earth Temple in The Temple of Elemental Evil:

Example Page for The Temple of Elemental Evil

May Zuggtmoy help you if you need to know who and what is in the Earth Temple quickly while running ToEE …

The alternative to this ‘Platonic ideal’ approach is what I guess could playfully be described as Aristotelian — an empirical approach to map key information design based on observation and direct experience of what really happens at the gaming table. There have likely been examples of this throughout the history of the hobby, but the explosion of small publishers and other hobbyists dissecting and philosophizing about RPG design has intensified the drive to innovate the map key. Of course, like anything based on observation and direct experience, this innovation has led to a number of competing and idiosyncratic approaches. I will not even attempt to describe this variety except to say that, generally, these methods favor the hierarchical arrangement of information based on its perceived importance to play and the use of formatting to provide visual cues so DMs can quickly parse what is being presented. My work in Automata Run Amok borrows shamelessly from what I feel to be the best examples of this ‘Aristotelian’ map key design, distilling the practices and recommendations I have encountered over the last few years into what I hope is something solidly useful if not innovative.

Dissecting a Map Entry from Automata Run Amok

So, what does it mean in practical terms for my module to employ ‘Aristotelian’ map key design? That will be easier to explain by grounding the discussion in a specific example from the publication and then explicating how it embodies my design philosophy. Let’s look at the first entry in the key, which describes the public part of a tinkerer-wizard’s shop that has been overrun by out-of-control automata:

Map Key example for Automata Run Amok

Some Aristotelian Key Entries (Click to Enlarge)

This makes an excellent example for three reasons: there is quite a lot of stuff for characters to investigate, its default state is rather static in terms of opposing NPCs and monsters, and it integrates some non-key elements of the module like its random tables and timeline. Even before diving into those details, though, notice how certain items are called out using color or styling (i.e., italics and bold-face) while the key entry largely consists sub-headings and bullet lists to create a clear hierarchy of information. Comparison with the entry for the second room shows that this layout is consistent so that, once the Dungeon Master learns the module’s visual vocabulary, he or she knows everything necessary to parse subsequent entries on-the-fly.

Now let’s walk through each element of the entry:

  • Room number, name, and dimensions (larger red font): As the only non-black font in the module, the red titles for each entry clearly divide up the key’s entries instead of relying on spacing alone to convey this information. This allows the DM to find the entry’s beginning quickly and jump back-and-forth between the text and map without losing his or her place. The number’s purpose should be self-explanatory, while the name of the room simultaneously provides a shorthand indication of what kind of location is being described and makes sure there’s enough text for the red font to stand out. Finally, the dimensions are given in the top line since the player group’s mapper (remember, this is an OSR module!) will need this information. My habit when Dungeon Mastering is to give mappers the information they need early in the description unless there is a logical reason — such as a huge chamber or attacking monsters — that would prevent someone from quickly eyeballing the size of the room. That allows them time to sketch and revise even if the party is prone to moving along quickly from location to location.
  • Brief evocative phrase (italic font): Quite a bit of the debate surrounding RPG map keys involves boxed text and I tend to agree with the argument that blocks of read-aloud for the DM are largely useless or even counter-productive at the table. It constrains the tone of the game to whatever the module author thinks is appropriate for a “typical” group and assumes a level of patience and attention to detail among players that I have rarely encountered in an individual let alone an entire party. However, ditching boxed text does limit the module author’s opportunities to convey the non-visual elements of a room that would be immediately evident — its smell, sounds, and general feel. My compromise is this evocative phrase, which describes the flavor of the room yet still allows the DM to couch that information in whatever tone or style fits their gaming group. For example, this particular room has “shelves of arcana and pungent herbs” — in other words, it’s a crowded shop of curios of mysterious origin suffused with the smells of magical ingredients. My opinion is that a DM doesn’t need more than this to describe the room in appropriate terms according to the needs and attention span of their player group.
  • Subsection detailing room occupants (if any; bold-face header with bullet list of details): Once the DM has been given the top-level information about the room’s dimensions and feel, the module’s key consists of subsections presenting information in a hierarchical list from most to least important. Since the first thing players (and DMs) will want to know is whether a room contains living creatures to either speak with or kill, those are covered in the first subsection entitled “Occupants.” The shop room in the key above is typically unoccupied, but this subsection is still present because there is a chance of encountering monsters (monkey automata) or NPCs (robbers) as the adventure’s timeline, as outlined earlier in the module, advances. When appropriate, this description of the room’s occupants will also cover the likely reactions along with references to the module’s bestiary. A good example of this comes from the alchemy chamber later in the module:

Occupants:
• The first time the party enters the tower, a single monkey automaton (AC:6; HD:1+1; #ATT:2; DAM:d6; Bestiary 1) is in this chamber collecting the last two acid vials (the remainder are already piled on the catwalk near the ladder). Hearing the group enter, it will climb the wall and perch above the door – making a last few squeaks in the process
• When the first party member enters the room, the monkey will attempt a surprise attack and toss one of its acid vials (2d4HP direct damage; 1HP splash within 1’). Any counterattack will cause it to scamper over to the other side of the wall and toss another vial; a successful counterattack will cause it to leap onto the catwalk (which provides 25% cover from missile attacks)

  • Subsection listing and describing exits (bold-face header with bullet list of details): Once the players know whether there’s anything in the room, the next thing they need to know is where the available exits are located and whether those exits are barred, locked, or otherwise impeded. This is also the next thing the party mapper will need to know once the outline of the room is sketched and therefore appears towards the beginning of the entry.
  • Series of subsections listing items of interest (bold-face headers with bullet lists of details): The last thing a DM must provide players is a list of miscellaneous items within the room that can be interacted with or investigated. My intention here is that only the headers would be shared during the initial room description and that the additional information detailed in the bullet lists would only be disclosed if the party spends time (i.e., expends resources) to look more closely at the item in question. So, in our example, the DM would let the party know that there are shelves covered in items, a counter, and a closet in the shop. In most cases, I imagine, the party will be interested in seeing exactly what’s on the shelves and choose to spend a turn investigating those; at that point only they would learn that these contain objects “artfully arranged to look cluttered with no labeling,” including several large crystals (one of which is valuable), spell components if a magic user is doing the searching, and something special from the random magic item table. Similarly, if the party or member thereof spends a turn investigating the counter, they will find the shelf underneath with the book and money-box.

So that basically demonstrates my Aristotelian style of map keying, which leverages visual cues and the hierarchical presentation of information to make running the adventure at the table a smoother experience requiring less preparation. The page layout supports the structure of the key entries, with each two-page spread in the module containing all the entries relevant to the map (an innovation lifted from Maze of the Blue Medusa) and trackers with check-boxes and blanks for the DM to note the passage of time, defeat of enemies, and other changes to the location (suggested by my editor and illustrator, Luka Rejec). When printed out, all of this information would be visible at once and (hopefully) easy to interpret even with the reality of excited players, imperfect recall of module details, and a tone that in my experience inevitably oscillates between epic and farce.

Quick Summary of Map Keying Practices

  1. Consistent ‘visual vocabulary’ across all map key entries
  2. Hierarchical presentation of information (from possible threats to miscellaneous objects to investigate)
  3. Front-loading of information for mapper (dimensions and exits)
  4. Use of ‘evocative phrase’ as substitute for boxed text to convey non-visual information not specifically associated with items in the room (i.e., the ‘flavor’ of the location)
  5. Subsections for each item in the room with which players can interact; bullet list details only shared with players if they expend resources (time, light source, random encounter rolls, etc.)
  6. All key entries appear on same two-page spread as map that references them along with visual tracking tools to keep track of monsters defeated and similar things

[If any of this sounds interesting, please pick up a PWYW copy of Automata Run Amok at DrivethruRPG; if you have any feedback — including reviews — please let me know!]

Earlier this week, Richard LeBlanc shared his OSR time tracking tool on G+. It was an excellent resource, but not quite what I needed for my current campaign. Using his sheet as a model, though, I decided to create my own version optimized for dungeon exploration in the ongoing AD&D 1E campaign detailed elsewhere on this blog (I will likely create another specialized sheet the next time the group embarks on wilderness adventures). Creating the tracker specifically for my campaign allowed me to highlight those exploration activities I find myself most often needing to record as well as add sections for tracking rounds.

CurabelTimeTracker

Link to PDF: CurabelTimeTracker

Link to Adobe Illustrator File: Google Drive

Here is a quick explanation of the document’s contents:

  • The header allows the DM to record the date (both real and according to the in-game calendar), adventure location, and campaign session number. My own inclination is to use a new sheet each session. I make a quick G+ community post with various bookkeeping information the day after a session, and this tracker has already proven easier to use then tally marks on notebook paper (not to mention the greater granularity of information).
  • Below the header is the first major section of the sheet (each section being indicated by double horizontal lines). This first area is for recording the time spent on activities typically measured in turn increments. As with Richard’s sheet, I use six-piece pies (each representing one hour of in-game time divvied up into ten minute turns). However, instead of generic recording forms that could used for any activity, I went ahead and created dedicated subsections for the specific activities I tend to track: Exploration (i.e., movement), in-depth area searches, casual examination of areas, resting, treasure collecting, destroying doors, memorizing spells, ten round combats, and spells. A few of the activities I am less likely to mark as distinct activities are grouped based on the typical time they take to complete.
  • Next, the middle section of the sheet has areas to record activities that most often take place in increments of one round (i.e., minute) divvied up into blocks of ten — which would be equivalent to a pie slice in the upper area. I wanted somewhere to record this information in the tracker document because these one minute activities tend to add up but often happen in fractions of one turn. A great example of this are listening checks — if you have six rounds of combat and four listen checks spread across a four-hour gaming session, that’s equivalent to a turn and there should be an easy way to track that alongside those activities that are normally a full turn in length.
  • Finally, the bottom section of the document has places for recording the use of limited resources such as light, rations, water, and spells. Light and spells are setup to allow turn-based recording, while the rations and water are simple check-boxes since they are normally exhausted at a rate of one per day for each adventurer.

Fully aware that this document is derivative of Richard LeBlanc’s original and specialized to reflect the peculiarities of my campaign, I still hope there are some who find it useful.

Jungle River, by i_netgrafx

Jungle River, by i_netgrafx

[This is the seventh post in a series dissecting the campaign ‘bible’ document I drafted while planning my AD&D 1e campaign. See here for an introduction to this series of posts.]

Island Hopping: Adventure Locales

The last section of the campaign ‘bible’ detailing the physical aspects of the Curabel setting consists of a collection of minor islands that were intended to provide several different adventure locales for my players. However, I have not done much with any of the setting’s locations outside of Curmidden (the central island) since it has provided more than enough room for adventure through seventy-six sessions. This means that, with the exception of Lonely Isle, there is not much to say about these locations other than in terms of my original intentions in creating them.

Curabel

This island is where Imperials first landed. Now called Watcher’s Island, though no permanent settlement has existed here is more than a century.

My campaign has featured some intrigue involving the human empire located across the ocean to the east (albeit not as much recently), but the Watchers mentioned in this brief description have not been a presence at all. It was my thought that, if this semi-secret cabal dedicated to protecting the islands from Imperials had interacted with the party more, the existence of an unsettled island that this group intermittently occupies and located at the eastern end of the archipelago might prove an interesting adventure locale.

Serpent’s Tooth

This island is one of the most inhospitable of the islands, although ancient ruins still draw adventurers. There is one permanent settlement on the island’s western coast called “Poison Spit” that serves as the launching point for most expeditions into the interior. Most residents of this town are native humans who have been fishing the waters here since the ancient dwarven empire, although each failed expedition tends to add a few survivors to the local population.

Conceived as an area for higher-level adventure in a truly wild jungle setting, it hasn’t been necessary to flesh this island out any more than the above blurb. The dwarven ruins, imperial forts, and jungles of Curmidden have been sufficient to occupy the players to date. A secondary campaign that I run for middle school students (my wife is their teacher) will be headed here soon, though, so I will have a chance to fill in some of the blanks.

Crescent Isle

This is the breadbasket of the islands and home to the second-largest human city-state, Feldmark. Compared to Midmark on Curmidden, Feldmark is a small town with a modest harbor. There is not the same strict division between districts and modest residences can be found side-by-side with industrial and civic buildings.

The Feldmark city-state was intended to serve as a foil to the larger metropolis of Midmark — an agrarian society with stronger democratic (as opposed to aristocratic) traditions. However, neither of my campaigns have delved much into the tensions between the various human city-states. It is possible that this will change in my primary campaign, though, when the United Council of the Marks (mentioned later in the campaign bible) has their annual meeting in two months in-game time.

Agmar’s Folly

This island was a thriving rival to Midland and Crescent Isle until all the settlers disappeared under mysterious circumstances several decades ago. It is now avoided by all but the most desperate scavengers and pirates.

Somewhat of an homage to the Lost Colony of Roanoke, this locale was created as a straightforward adventure hook — a mystery for the players to solve, whether they sought it out on purpose or found themselves there while interacting with “scavengers and pirates.” I strongly suspect, though, that my players feel they have more than enough mystery on their plate right now between imperial spies, ancient dwarven gods that are less dead than previously thought, and slavery rings tied to corrupt guild, companies, and politicians on Curmidden.

Lonely Isle

This is a blasted and desolate island is often subject to geological instability.

It figures that this blank slate of an island, which just has a vague hint of adventure related to its “geological instability,” has become the one location on this list that figures prominently in my primary campaign. Part of this was anticipated during the initial design of the setting when I decided this island was an important location for the ancient dwarven empire that my players have been doggedly investigating. However, there was also a bit of serendipity owing to collaboration with one player who wanted to play a monk. Originally, this class was not part of my conception for the setting, but, since it was never explicitly banned from the campaign, I let this player help integrate it into the world. During that process, we decided together that this island would be the original headquarters of the Order of the Celestial Dragon, a fierce anti-imperial counter-espionage force. This Order recently abandoned their headquarters, though, in a diaspora intended to be an opportunity to find a more appropriate home after the island was overrun by a company interested in mining its resources. This company is the same one involved with the slavery ring and other shady business and its very likely that the campaign will eventually make its way to this location.

One last note on this collaborative world-building: typically, I am not a fan of letting the players contribute to the design of a campaign setting. The world and how it works is part of the mystery that players uncover as they play and that mystery is impossible to have if the eventual investigators design it. In this case, however, I was able to give the player the ability to make certain choices — like the name of the order and its headquarters — without telling him the significance of those choices or how they fit into the world (i.e., that the location was an important site already and that the order was a ‘reformed’ offshoot of the dervishes who served the human empire). In essence, the player chose some facts but I gave them the significance. This has happened a few more times in the campaign since then and I will definitely be experimenting with this approach more in the future.

Detailing the Heavens Above: Basic Cosmology

  1. Meidia has a single sun that travels east to west. Curabel’s days and nights are roughly equal year-round given its proximity to the equator.
  2. Meidia has two moons:
    1. Imperial: Cinthal, Cinmar (Shadow-son and Shadow-daughter)
    2. Dwarven: Fathil, Fatha (Dark hunter and Dark huntress)
    3. Elven: Mithilun, Cithilun (Silver-lady and Dark-lady)
  3. Currents and winds run east to west; since Midland straddles the equator, currents break to the north on islands north of that island and south to the south (on the eastward side) and flow around the top and then back either south or north (on the westward side)
  4. Storms are frequent but generally mild in this equatorial region

Suraya Bay at Night

Suraya Bay at Night

There is not too much to say about this bit of the campaign bible. With the exception of the double moons, most of these details reflect with information taken from the Wilderness Survival Guide or my own research into the tropical islands/climes. Looking back on the names of those moons, though, I am reminded of a linguistic connection intended between the imperial and Elven nomenclature — specifically the purposeful similarity between the “Cin” element in one and “Cith” in the other. This builds on the bit of historical lore I drafted about how the empire’s home in the east originally belonged to the elves before that latter groups conquest and exile to Curabel.

Quick Note About Upcoming Installments in this Series:

The next section of the campaign bible is about the setting’s various races. This is information I have covered already in my discussion of the individual islands in Curabel (see the posts on humans, elves, and dwarves). Rather than skip this section, though, I will be revisiting the peoples of Curabel and posting some tables of random backgrounds for new player characters that take into account both race and island of origin.

Temple Ruins (Ta Prohm in Cambodia was built by the Khmer King Jayavarman VII as a Mahayana Buddhist monastery and university)

Temple Ruins (Ta Prohm in Cambodia was built by the Khmer King Jayavarman VII as a Mahayana Buddhist monastery and university)

[This is the first post in a series of session summaries (i.e., play reports) for the first campaign I have run in the Curabel setting. Each summary was written by one of the players, but I am adding my own ‘DM Annotations’ on these write-ups before uploading them here. These annotations will mostly call attention to bits of the summaries that will be significant later in the campaign (with links to relevant summaries to follow as they are posted) or else explain my rational for my game-mastering choices.

Please note that the summary will be displayed as regular text and my annotations as block quotes throughout.]

Session 1:

This summary was written by Larry, who plays the dwarf Thorfus. This was fortuitous because his detailed notes set a high standard for subsequent summaries and (I think) inspired the other players to be more observant. He has a blog on old school role-playing at http://followmeanddie.com.

Wednesday, March 19, 2014.

With the exception of a couple of vacations and one or two weeks when there were not enough players for a quorum, we have played every Wednesday for four hours since the campaign’s inception over a year ago. I don’t like cancelling sessions because I want the expectation on the part of players to be that the game is happening regularly and that nothing less than an extraordinary circumstance will keep me from being there. Since I’m not one to harangue players about attendance, this is my way of making the point by example.

Starring:

  • James: Sthorm (thief) dwarf

Australian who stayed with the campaign for the first dozen or so sessions. He had some role-playing experience, if I remember correctly, although not necessarily with AD&D 1e.

  • Brian: Ir’Alle (cleric) Human

U.S. player with a good bit of RPG experience, although not necessarily old school AD&D. He stayed with the campaign for at least the first twenty sessions and returned for another five or so later on.

  • Riese: Galron (paladin) Human

Youngest player who had tried various RPGs, but also had some bad experiences. He is still officially part of the campaign 70+ sessions in, although he hasn’t attended recently since starting college.

  • Larry: Thorfus (fighter) dwarf

U.S. player with quite a bit of experience with 1e AD&D (the most in the group). He is still playing and quickly became the closest thing to the party’s leader/caller.

  • Antony: Axel (fighter) dwarf

U.K. player with no tabletop RPG experience that is still playing. He quickly picked up good habits, though, and I often forget that he hasn’t been playing for decades.

  • Scott/tzx: Uthruk (fighter) half-orc

U.S. player with a good deal of RPG experience who disappeared after the first session. He came back a year later, though, and rejoined with the same character for another dozen or so sessions.

Summary

The hearty adventurers met on a ship going to the island of Midland and its capital and largest city, Midmark.

The hearty adventurers met on a ship: A useful introductory gambit: no one is from the starting location or has unique background knowledge immediately relevant to the campaign (everyone is a greenhorn); not quite the cliché that the tavern meeting is but still provides a logical reason for the party to form – they’re trapped for at least a couple of days on the ship and so talked about their plans in the big city.

We were awakened to what we thought were sailors making ready to dock, but it was actually the crew rescuing the 4 survivors of a wrecked and burning ship. The wrecked ship was attacked by a devil fish not more than an hour before our ship came upon them.

The wrecked ship was attacked by a devil fish: A couple of things here: first, this signals that the world is alive and that things happen even when the party isn’t there to do anything about it. By the time the group arrives, there’s nobody to fight, just miserable people who were victims of some monstrous evil. Second, this foreshadows likely events in the campaign (assuming the party bites on the “starter” dungeon I’ve created) and provides some context for a decision they will need to make there.

After a few more hours we entered the great harbor of the biggest city we had ever seen. The harbor was a forest of masts and rigging and ships of all sizes. The first thing we noticed about the harbor was the smell of tar, giving it the popular name of the Tar-Water.

In the middle of the harbor is an artificial island with foundries belching smoke and dry docks building the ships that make Midland the merchant power of the islands.

Medieval Port by Kurobo

Medieval Port by Kurobo

The docks were packed with people milling, walking and boarding and de-boarding ships. There are huge cranes for loading and offloading cargo. The docks are very high above the water, since with two moons there is a rare double high-tide.

the great harbor … for loading and offloading cargo: I actually wrote out the initial description of the city and its harbor long-hand – this was going to be the base of operations for the party for a while in all likelihood and this was my chance to introduce what was the equivalent of a key NPC. The description itself borrowed heavily from both historical and fictional accounts of Amsterdam during the eighteenth century – especially Neal Stephenson’s work in the novel Quicksilver. As the kind-of sort-of capital of colonial humans in Curabel, who can be described as being like former employees of the world’s Dutch East India Company who became revolutionaries, this seemed appropriate.

docks are very high … rare double high-tide: I did want a little bit of the fantastic to show in the description – although, keeping with my penchant for Gygaxian realism, this expresses itself in terms of how the forces of civilization normalize and assimilate the fantastic in order to function.

A sailor on our ship told us that people at the docks were all the time putting together expeditions to the other islands.

Before we docked, we were met by a boat with one of the customs agents of the Harbor Master, Baswick (something). He told us the rules of the city, which sum up to stay out of trouble, no murder (self-defense is OK), and find work or we will find it for you. We noticed lots of indentured servants on the docks. Baswick then recorded various facts about us, name, where we are from, etc.

He told us the rules … find work: Setting some expectations in game – first, there will be consequences for the characters’ actions; second, the party needs to find something to do (no hand-holding or pre-canned adventure paths here).

We debark to the docks and notice lots of dirty children looking for work.

We asked around and were directed to a grizzled dwarf at a desk by a ship and a tall man next to him. The dwarf, Mortimer, had a golden helm with a built-in eye patch for a missing eye. He was readying an expedition to (the dangerous island). We decided not to sign up and he told us he wouldn’t hire us anyway. We decide to stay local to the island.

The dwarf, Mortimer … wouldn’t hire us anyway: More expectation setting: not every adventure hook is appropriate at every level. If the party had tried to sign-up, they would have had to beat Mortimer’s 5th-level fighter associate in wrestling/grappling. Given the house rules, this is almost (but not quite) impossible. If they had won, I would have let them join the expedition – and they probably would have died very quickly on that “dangerous island”.

We hear of another dwarf, Desric, who sends adventurers locally for dwarven artifacts. There is a hint that he can’t be trusted.

Galron, our paladin, picked out the dirtiest child he could find, who we couldn’t tell if his skin was black or he was just that filthy. Galron gave Efram a gold piece to lead us to Desrick’s. He said it was about an hour into the city. Other boys argued with Efram that he didn’t know the way, etc. Galron made clear we were going with Efram.

Other boys argued with Efram that he didn’t know the way: They said this – they also said not to trust Efram (much like the hint that Desric could not be trusted provided by his business rival, Mortimer). My goal here was to highlight the fact that the party was making a choice and weighing options. I was also showing them that my job wasn’t to tell them what to do or who to trust; they needed to decide based on what their character could see. In this case, they gave the NPC the benefit of the doubt – although they were also on guard for betrayal (which helped them anticipate the ambush mentioned below). Their paranoia has only increased since the beginning of the campaign.

We journeyed N/NW and noticed to the east the town had hills, cathedrals, castles, government buildings, etc. The area where we were had numerous warehouses, narrow streets, and few people.

Unfortunately, Efram appeared to get lost. We soon learned that this was a ploy and that his older brother, Gartric, and some friends had him guide the unwary into a tight street. We did not go down the dead end alley, but met them in an intersection.

Five of them came up to us demanding gold, thinking we were rich. We refused and battle ensued. We dropped three of them and the last two surrendered, but fled at mention of the constable. We patched up the wounded thieves, Galron healed the leader who we soon learned was Efram’s brother.

We patched up the wounded thieves: This turned out to be a serendipitous opportunity to show the group how their actions would have consequences. They could have simply killed the bandits, but instead made sure they would live (even leaving them at a temple for care and healing). Later, when the group’s thief, Sthorm, needed training, the gang/guild these ruffians belonged to would know about the group and have a better opinion of them because of these actions. Instead of making an enemy of “Cutter’s Mad-dogs,” they had a potential ally and resource.

We learned that there was a great canal running through the city, and there are only a few bridges where it can be crossed.

We encountered another shrine of the Ark and a cleric was present. We were all healed for some of our damage. The note entitled us to free healing for a service to the Ark. Normally, there would have been an expected donation.

The note entitled us…: This was an even more immediate consequence for the group’s merciful actions – which also happened to get healing to a low-level group with limited resources.

We finally reach Desric’s. It looked like a junk yard, with ancient dwarven artifacts in various states. Across from it is the Cock & Bull inn & tavern. We banged on the door until Desric let us in, it was early, but other businesses were open. He place was fulls of bits and pieces and lots of books. He told us he got word of an emergency at Talisin’s place. He told us that he was too old and tired to go out in the middle of the night. Desric said that Talisin was doing dangerous things and shouldn’t be meddling with what he was. Desric offered us 50 gold to bring him papers that explained the ancient dwarven automata that he was working with.

Desric offered us 50 gold…: Here is the introductory adventure’s hook – some quick money for looking into some shady business across town. It also introduces the first hint of politics of the world (in this case within the Tinkerers’ Guild) and the fact that there is quite a bit of interest in recovering and messing around with ancient doodads.

Desric told us that Talisin would probably be found at the Lucky Gam, if he was not at his place. He gave us directions to the Lucky Gam.

We find the tavern, and Talisin and two of his three students were with him. The missing student, Osric, has not been seen since last night.

Talisin explained that he and Desric are member’s of the Tinkerer’s Guild and that Talisin is secretary and that Desric wants his office. Talisin has hopes of doing something wondrous with the automatons and becoming president of the guild. We get the impression that Talisin is more honorable and tell him what Descric wanted. Talisin offers us 150 gold (was that right?) for each automaton that is not destroyed.

Talisin explained …: The party is now coming to expect that the initial story isn’t always the whole story and that they need to make judgement calls (see the Efram bit above). They are completely wrong here, but they’re at least being thoughtful (and trying to play NPCs against one another to get a better deal – a fine and profitable art in itself).

What happened is that he built three monkey creatures and two dwarven warrior [automata] without issue. The automaton he was working on last night needed one final piece. Often he has custom pieces made. This one was a custom piece and when put in place the automaton took over the others, he called it an Overseer. He said that if we removed the circlet from its dome, it would cease to control the others. Talisin said that it was directing the others to build more automatons.

This one was a custom piece … to build more automatons: I thought this was suitably unconventional, obviously worth the party’s time, but not too overwhelming “quest”. It also further added to the foreshadowing and preparation for the “starter”’ dungeon and what they would encounter there.

He gave us the key to his place. We explored his shop front and the lower level of the tower, then made our way up the stairs. We encountered a monkey creature in one room and it threw acid at us. Thorfus was the only one hit, but water stopped the acid from doing more damage. The rooms had no ceiling, so the monkey came over the wall, but did not follow us when we went through double doors that took us in to a workshop.

The rooms had no ceiling: It’s not so clear in the summary, but I wanted to make the first “adventure” location tactically interesting. Therefore, I imagined a multi-room workshop with ten-foot walls but a 30’ ceiling above all those smaller spaces. Above the walls was a metal walkway that Talissen would have used to watch his apprentices while they worked below without needing to go into each workshop room. Now, though, this openness became a tactical challenge when fighting mechanical monkeys that could climb the walls and gangway and throw acid.

We heard noise on the other side of the door, but as soon as we entered the noise of work stopped and we were faced with a monkey creature and a dwarven automaton. We could tell the monkey had been trying to put some gears together.

dwarven automaton: In this context, a automaton shaped like a dwarven warrior but taller (just a bit more than man-sized).

We tried to run past the dwarven automaton, some of the party made it, but Thorfus was hit and went down. Others in the party attacked. I believe it was Sthorm that hit the dwarven machine for a little damage, but Uthruk jumped off the gangway above us and hit it for enough damage that it stopped attacking, Galron lept down and grappled with the monkey creature and others helped him tie it up with wire that was there. Ir’Alle came to Thorfus’s aid and cast cure light wounds.

Uthruk jumped off the gangway … Galron lept down and grappled: This was a fortuitous event, as well. The first player, Scott, described what he wanted to do even though there were no clear 1e rules for “jump down off a gangway to stab an enemy.” We talked about it, though, and decided this would be a kind-of charge except that Uthruk would face more dire circumstances (being prone, fall damage, etc.) if he failed to hit. It worked, showing the group that creative thinking would be rewarded and that we would negotiate resolution mechanics for situations the books didn’t cover rather than artificially limit choices. This immediately inspired Riese (playing Galron) to try the grapple maneuver described next and many similar events in subsequent sessions.

Play then ceased for the night just after midnight.

A glorious time was had by all and we can’t wait to continue the adventure next week.

Colchester Castle under Construction

Colchester Castle under Construction

It’s been quite a spell since my last post, so I thought it might be a good idea to check-in to confirm that this blog is still a live project and to outline some plans for the next few months. There has been a logical reason for the prolonged delay since my last update, leaving aside general laziness and a busy summer schedule. This issue was that the next section of my commentary covers the Dwarven people and there were too many spoilers for my ongoing campaign to address that subject. While some of those secrets have yet to be discovered, my players have made significant progress in their investigation of Curabel’s Ancient Dwarven civilization and it will now be easier to cover that subject here without spoiling the campaign.

With this problem no longer holding things up, I will relaunch the campaign setting Bible annotation shortly. In addition, a number of additional random generation scripts written in Perl are almost ready for upload here — these will cover non-classed NPCs (compatible with just about any system) and treasure package generation (potentially useful in other games, but designed for AD&D 1E). Based on the site traffic, the random weather generator has been the most popular post on this blog, so I think these might also be of interest. Finally, I will also start posting annotated play reports from my ongoing campaign that has just reached its 66th session (covering 264 hours of weekly gaming).

Anyway, that’s enough planning — now it’s time to bring some of these ideas to fruition.

[A short digression on my preference for custom sandbox settings suggested by the previous post on the Curabel campaign design. My apologies on the lack of updates since the initial flurry of posts. My hope is to get back on at least a weekly posting schedule starting with the next installment of my campaign design series this weekend.]

sandbox

Thematically appropriate and usefully annotated.

I’ve always run sandbox campaigns, even back in the 80’s in school when I wouldn’t have known what that meant. This wasn’t a conscious choice, though, just an accident dependent on my interests and limitations as a DM:

1. I have never been able to run someone else’s campaign or module — they’re the projections of someone else’s imagination and always feel foreign to me. I can borrow a general theme, minor detail, or random table and rework it so that it becomes mine, but that’s about it. For instance, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed reading through Zak S.’s Red & Pleasant Land and David McGrogan’s Yoon-Suin settings recently and could see myself playing in them or even stealing individual ideas for my own use, but those are not my worlds and I don’t have that gut feeling for their ‘reality’ that I get with my own creations.
2. I have always loved creating campaign milieus and explaining how everything got the way it is before the players start breaking/interacting with it. I do this for myself, though, so never feel compelled to ram it down the players’ throats — it’s a largely invisible (from the players’ perspective) web of causes and effects.
3. Determining the why and wherefores of a campaign world has always highlighted for me the underlying concepts that are firing my imagination. Knowing that makes riffing on player choices off-the-cuff much easier. They can yank on any adventure string they want, but I know the thematic ball of yarn to which they ultimately connect.

So, to run through the process backwards: I’ve always had a knack for improvisation based on player choice (the bedrock of sandbox play) because I have a good sense of my campaign worlds’ themes and history. I have a good sense of those themes and history because I only use my own material and spend a good bit of time rationalizing the components of that material. I only use my own material because I delight in creating it for its own sake and suck at empathizing with or ingesting the finished ideas of others.

paladinI have published a random generator that creates leveled NPCs (also linked above) using the rules in the AD&D 1e Players Handbook and Dungeon Masters Guide. The output, which can be downloaded as a plain text file, includes the usual stats along with the (sometimes very odd) random personality fields from the DMG. Users of the script can choose to create random NPCs, or choose specific classes, races, and/or levels. One caveat: choosing a combination not allowed in the 1e rule-set can generate malformed NPCs. As with the weather generation script, I would appreciate any feedback about the usefulness of this tool and/or improvements that could be made.

One last note: I have separate random generators for creating non-adventurer NPCs and populating city districts that I will post at a later date (they are a bit more complex).