RPG Night: A Gamemaster's Journal

The Appropriate Amount of Time

2015-06-22T21:59:00.000-04:00

For the longest time, our little group of role players suffered from severe short attention spans. Quickly distracted by shiny stuff, spending more time on YouTube than on the game, and setting ourselves up for failure every week. We'd build characters, start a campaign - sometimes from module, sometimes off the cuff - and it would barely last a month before we were itching to give it up and try something else. This was by no fault of the storytellers or the players, but rather this strange unspoken consent. Nothing felt right. It was very much like flipping through your Netflix queue and not being able to find anything to watch, trying a pilot episode of something new, and deciding "nah" and moving on before really giving it a fighting chance to prove itself to you.

So then along comes our current campaign - Star Wars: Dawn of Defiance. It's big, it's Star Wars, and it's going to carry characters from level 1 to the cap at level 20 - which is a pretty bold statement considering we haven't leveled anything in any game for the past few years. Lo and behold, it's a huge success. I've not seen this kind of teamwork out of my players in a long while. 14 levels of advancement through waves of story and adventure means players can become emotionally invested with their characters, develop quirks with other player's characters, and grow from a mere mercenary-style annoyance to the Galactic Empire to becoming an honest-to-goodness powerful Rebellion Army. We have paved our way through the galaxy, gaining renown and glory, making it through 7 out of 10 books in the campaign module, and we are rounding the corner towards the third and final chapter in this big, epic trilogy. There's just one tiny, ever so problematic little thing wrong...

Yeah, I'm gettin' bout sick of this genre, buddy-boy!

We're over a year into this campaign, and I'm starting to reach this point where, even though there's more to do, and we're so near the end of the story, I kinda want to move on to something else. Those D&D 5th Edition books are calling out to me, and Hoard of the Dragon Queen looks like it'll be amazing. Not to mention switching from science fiction to high fantasy will be like a refreshing glass of Hell-Yeah Ice Water. Let me put it like this: imagine if you were only allowed to watch one television show, ever, for years. Just the one. Even if you picked a really cool one - it's still just the one, in that one genre you picked, with that same batch of characters, in that same world, week after week, as other shows came and went. I'm not saying I dislike the game - far from it. But at what point do you stop, take a step back, and say "okay, television shows get to take a season off, and maybe it's for this very reason." I think it's time for a break, but I have two fears with this. Fear One: we'll switch games but fall back into old bad habits, which believe me no one wants. It's the less likely of the two, but experience forces me to consider this as a possibility. Fear Two: we'll stick with this game to finish it, but a lack of enthusiasm will make for rushed story and half-assed game sessions resulting in a less-than-spectacular ending. Oh I think we all know what that feels like...

You should all be ashamed of yourselves.

I'll let you know what we decide. So tell me how YOUR group handles campaigns that feel like they're starting to slow down or have maybe stretched on past their expiration dates. How often does your group change games or genres? And how does it feel to go back to complete a campaign after taking an extended break in a different game? Comment - subscribe - all that...

The Critical Fail

2015-06-01T22:13:00.002-04:00

Everyone gasp in horror. Players, sigh in dread at the GM's delight. For you have rolled a Natural-One - and something prolifically stupid is about to happen. In the past, I've seen everything from player characters "accidentally" shooting or stabbing themselves and each other, to spells and bombs blowing up in our faces, and more than once has it resulted in the death of a character. Also more than once has it resulted in arguments, frustration, dice flying in the air...

You're telling me my level 8 fighter, who's trained and experienced and has wielded a sword since he was a kid, somehow 'goofed up' and stabbed himself in his own leg? How does one even do that?! John McClane never accidentally shot himself. Luke Skywalker probably should have run his lightsaber through a limb or two, but he managed to avoid self injury. No one in Lord of the Rings ever swung a sword, missed, and chopped off their own heads. So you're telling me the best we got when I roll a critical failure is I've stabbed myself and now I'm bleeding to death?

There had to be a better way - a solution that was less likely to cause players to want to cheat, felt more in-game and less like a punishment. While watching Star Wars Episode III (don't judge...), during the dramatic lightsaber duel at the end when the bridge collapsed and the tower fell, I thought, "Huh. Someone rolled a 1." - and that's when it hit me. A new concept that would later become a house rule and forever change our gaming group's view of the Natural-One / Critical Failure. No longer would anyone dread the failure, fearing their character was about to act completely out-of-character and do something monumentally stupid. I give you THE ENVIRONMENT CHANGE.

Maybe we should get down first? No? Yeah, let's just keep going.

The house rule is simple, and I encourage you to try it yourself at your next campaign. When someone rolls a natural-one on the D20 (or whatever the equivalent of a critical failure is in the system you're playing), something dramatically changes in the environment to make things more difficult. It effects everyone, and increases the challenge just a little bit, but that's usually enough to make the players pause and re-think their strategy. Maybe your arrow triggered a rock slide, and now some people are stuck while the area is "difficult terrain". Maybe your wild shot ruptured the water tank, and now everything is flooding. Maybe the bridge is crumbling and about to fall. Maybe your sword shattered a lantern and started a fire, and it's quickly spreading. Make it dramatic, make it feel like that cinematic moment when the heroes go from the frying pan into the fire, get creative. It makes victory feel so much more rewarding.

Just don't go overboard.

I welcome your comments below. If you try this technique, let me know how it goes and what your players thought of it. If you have your own methods for dealing with the critical failure, let me know that too.

The Guest GM

2015-05-25T17:57:00.003-04:00

Over the past year or so, my little Friday Night Gaming Group has been locked in ferocious combat against the overwhelming forces of the evil Empire in "Star Wars: Saga Edition - Dawn of Defiance". For those who don't know, Dawn of Defiance is one of only a handful of adventures released for the Saga Edition game set before WotC sold the rights off to the folks at Fantasy Flight Games. Since I didn't have those books at the time, but I did have the full library of Saga Edition games, I went with that. Really there was no other reason. And I know Saga Edition gets a bad rep for poor mechanics, unbalanced combat, and ridiculously overpowered d20 characters - we still manage to make it work. It's all in the storytelling, and Dawn of Defiance does not disappoint in that regard. Every element you love of Star Wars exists in this lengthy 10-book-long campaign designed to carry your players from level 1 all the way to level 20! Space battles, lightsaber duels, infiltrating a Hutt palace, visiting a Jedi temple, it's all in there. They wanted to build something that encompassed as much of the Star Wars experience as possible, and I have to say they succeeded like none other, and none since.

This moment totally happened in our game, too!

We're not done. Like the movies, Dawn of Defiance is broken up into 3 main parts, and we're just about to embark on the third and final chapter in our saga. But before we moved on, an interesting concept was brought to my attention while watching the Star Wars cartoon - because yes, I do still watch cartoons, that really shouldn't surprise you by now. Anyway, I noticed that while the entire season might have a specific goal or overall story, they made room for episodes that allowed everyone to really get familiar with the backgrounds and motivations of a single character. What a neat idea! We could do that. Have a series of short mini-adventures, that may only last a day or two, that allowed us to get to know everyone else's characters a bit more. Rather than put that burden on me, as my attention was focused on the bigger picture, I thought - who knows the player's characters better than the players?

Hell, I can't even remember your character's name half the time...

Getting the players involved at this level, letting them create their own mini-adventure to really play out their backgrounds, letting us get to know their motivations and quirks, has been a great experience. Several players got an opportunity to be the Game Master for the first time ever. Others used it as a chance to inject a little of their own unique imaginations into the world. It made the universe bigger, and it allowed for a level of character growth I don't often get to see in a campaign. I know it's not easy for a GM to give up his throne, let alone his world, to the destructive and often malicious minds of the players. But I for one recommend it, especially if you're into the whole "character development" thing. Players just be sure to run your entire mini-adventure story past your GM first, so there's no conflict between what you want to do and the bigger campaign storyline.

"So my character's background is like this..." No. Just, no.

Returning To The Pen

2015-05-18T16:21:00.000-04:00

I feel I owe you all an apology for being gone for so long. Life happened. That's all the excuse I can offer that doesn't make me sound like I'd abandoned my writing like a neglectful parent abandoning his kid in a car seat... for years... But now that I'm back at the keyboard, my fingers shuffling along at a moderate yet familiar pace, I'm hoping muscle memory will return my creativity to its former glory, newly expanded by life's experiences.

"...damn"

I know getting back on the cliched bicycle won't be easy, but if it were easy we'd all be best sellers. My new writing schedule begins this week, and has me diligently working on new literary pieces of fiction that will hopefully allow me to regain some trust with my fans - because there's not many of you and I love you all please don't leave me - along with new blog entries every Monday to let you know how my game is going. That's right, we still game. Every week.

"Vin Diesel still plays D&D, your argument is invalid."

What exactly am I working on? You mean aside from a certain fiery redhead that people have been asking for? Oh it's way too early for me to say. I just wanted to let you all know that I'm back, in earnest, with my heart set on sharing my stories and a mug of coffee at the ready.

A huge thank you to everyone who picked up a copy of my book. Your responses were overwhelming and continue to surprise me and humble me. 70+ reviews on Amazon (as of today) for an unknown first-time self-published author? That's unheard of! You're all awesome, and you've inspired me to get back to the keyboard and finish what I started. I look forward to sharing my next adventure with you!

A Pulp Adventure in the 1930's

2013-01-25T12:40:00.002-05:00

Thought I'd take a moment to let you all know what we're currently playing, and how it's going so far. Because yes, we are still playing.

I started this new campaign letting everyone know I'd already created their characters. This caused a bit of unrest as I normally let the players make their own characters or at least be a part of the creation process, but this time I made them all in advance. "This will be a pulp adventure," I said. "It takes place in the early 1930's. No, your characters don't have super powers, but this is certainly a fantasy adventure. And don't worry - you may not have been involved in making these characters, but you already know who they are."

Players were then handed their characters.

Indiana Jones, Rick O'Connell, Evelyn Carnahan, Jonathan Carnahan, and Sallah vs evil Nazi soldiers and supernatural mysteries in search of an ancient relic before it falls into the wrong hands. The early Indiana Jones movies and the Mummy movies exist in pretty much the same time, and coincide perfectly with each other. D20 Modern rules made character creation easy. And, being the action movie icons that they are, I made everyone Level 10. In order to make the adventure more exciting in game terms, I bumped up the supernatural closer to "The Mummy" levels rather than the much more subdued "Indiana Jones", but I made sure to pack it full of classic Indiana elements, from overwhelming numbers of Nazi soldiers who couldn't shoot the broad side of a barn, to that one big guy who has to be taken down with fists, even traveling by map.

Of course in my world, Indiana Jones + The Mummy movie is directed by Michael Bay.
Everything blows up!

It's actually pretty amazing how well these two groups of characters complement each other. Eat your heart out Avengers - here's a movie mash-up I wouldn't mind seeing. This adventure was intended to be a one-shot, single-night campaign. That was weeks ago. We're still playing. Mystery, intrigue, classic pulp action/adventure, guns, explosions, supernatural powers, no cell phones, and a bull whip. ...and not a single Shia LaBeouf to be seen. What's not to love?

Book Prices

2013-01-14T10:44:00.001-05:00

I get it. I do. It costs "X" amount of dollars to print the book, plus "X" amount for all the stuff like distribution, royalties, rights management, yadda-yadda. I totally get that. But $50 for a role playing book seems a bit much, don't you think? And it's often only half of what you need to actually play the game. Sure it's hard cover, got glossy full color pages throughout, and so full of artwork that I have to hunt to find the equipment list. But come 'on. $50 for half a game?

"It's cool -- I'm a righty. I'll save up for the other half later..."

All I'm saying is that I remember back when you could buy a good role playing game for about $15. It was soft cover with cheesy black-and-white Manga-style cartoon artwork, and the corners crinkled in the first few minutes of owning it - but it worked, and it had everything you needed to play the game. Then there were all of the various supplement books that ranged in price depending on how thick the book was or how very cool the content was. In the end you could easily end up paying just as much, but you did so at your own pace and were still fully capable of playing the game with just that first core book. It gave you a chance to try out all sorts of games. If you didn't like it, no big deal. Now I feel obligated, like I HAVE to like this game because I paid $100 bucks for it.

"Mmmm... 4th Edition. It's (blurp) awesome."

At what point was it assumed that gamers had money? It's a game played on sheets of paper - yes, it's for poor people who still rely on imagination to have a good time. If I had money, I'd have bought a super computer and a subscription to an MMO...

The Fall of the Vampires

2012-07-10T17:51:00.000-04:00

You ever notice how modern pop culture influences the way we run and play our RPG campaigns? Think about how different your Dungeons and Dragons campaign turned out the day after you saw Lord of the Rings for the first time. Let me tell you, it was a good day for wizards and rangers who now had Ian McKellen and Viggo Mortensen to model their characters after. And this is just one example. Think of how Firefly altered your perception of space opera games, or how the recent string of superhero movies gave new life to your comic book superhero games. I made my own version of Spiderman in a Mutants and Mastermind game shortly after the second movie came out that was both unoriginal and completely awesome fun to play -- I have no regrets. The more well done the movie, video game, book or comic franchise, the more influences we've had to create bigger worlds, better characters, and eager players. Movies and TV shows in particular seem to have the strongest influences over me and my band of players.

"I saw this show and had a great idea for our characters... wait, you haven't heard my idea yet."

But it hasn't all been joy rides and Michael Bay explosions. There's one genre in particular that's taken a sour turn for the toilet bowl -- and I'm talking of course of the once very popular series "Vampire: The Masquerade". Okay, maybe I'm being harsh and it's still doing super with its loyal if creepy fan base. Hard to say. I just know that ever since Twilight came out and showed us a sparkly and somewhat emo/goth homoerotic version of what we once dubbed lethal blood-sucking killing machines, my group of friends has been hesitant to play anymore. They don't even want to hunt them, much less be them. They'd rather vampires simply didn't show up at all.

"Vampires show up? Well, for my first action I'd like to..."

I'll admit it's a bit of a bummer. Vampires made great bad guys. In RIFTS they're crazy-hard to kill, will regenerate damage at a cartoonishly unstoppable rate, have an equally cartoonish-style weakness, and can wipe out a party of adventures in a few short rounds. In D&D they're a challenging undead creature for the party to face off against because they can think, plan, and ambush your party (though they are far from the strongest undead creature you can unleash on them). Let's face it, they rank right up there with Stormtroopers, Nazis, and robots. And as far as playing one in the Vampire RPG, well I've had several great characters in a number of campaigns throughout the years. It can be fun being the antihero for a little while and exploring the darker side of human nature. Although I have noticed Vampire campaigns are usually short. I think it's because we're not a group of black-candle-lightin', patchouli-oil-and-eyeliner-wearin', black clothes long haired over one eye purple lovin' emo goths... and would rather be the heroes of an adventure.

"What did you do to us?!"

But then, Twilight happened. Now my players and fellow Gamemasters won't go anywhere near the subject, and I can't say I blame them. So I guess until they decide to reboot BLADE or make some other form of bad-ass vampire movie that a group of guys can all admit to having seen in a theater together, the vamps will be sitting on the shelf collecting dust. Or maybe that won't be enough. Maybe all we'll ever see is Twilight-Sparkles-Pony every time we think Vampire. In which case, my apologies to the hard working folks at White Wolf, but we're going to have to pass.

So how about you? Was there a particular genre or campaign you once played that you won't go back to now because some piece of pop culture ruined it for you?

Anatomically Incorrect

2012-05-28T14:14:00.003-04:00

There's an unspoken rule in a role playing campaign that I'd like to bring to light, and explain why it is the way it is. The rule is simple. Your characters never need to use the bathroom, and they don't have sex. Ever. They don't even have genitals unless you're kicking them. It's just better for everyone like this. Why though? Wouldn't it add a sense of realism to the game? It is role playing after all, and you're playing characters in an epic story. Adding stuff like romance and seduction would make the story more complete. And why wouldn't they need to go to the bathroom? Didn't the book "Everybody Poops" teach us anything about life? Let me explain...

"I'm the dude playin' the dude disguised as another dude. Only now I'm a chick that poops."

I never discourage players from playing characters of the opposite gender. It can make for some very fun and interesting characters. And I get it, you want your character to be sexy-hot, like every character in any Michael Bay film. Cool. Done. But the moment you start trying your "seduction technique", we're all suddenly every uncomfortable and the game has taken a terrible turn for the worse. Because while you see your character looking like Kate Beckinsale, we all see something very different. Very, very different.

"Me pretty! Me would date with you now! No, where you run?! Me love you long time!"

And no, it doesn't matter if you have an all-nerd-guys group or if you have a female player in your ranks (you lucky group you), or even if your group is made up of a mix of best selling authors and Oscar winning actors -- someone's going to get mighty uncomfortable when Player One starts hitting on the Gamemaster. And just so you know, I'll unleash the damn Tarrasque on your butts if you try.

"Am I pretty NOW? Come on, let's do stuff! ...jerk."

As for the other thing ... do I even have to get into it (no pun intended)? I mean, really? By now you're probably hoping I don't have a picture or graphic to post on this topic, and you'd be right to be scared. You think we want to role play that out? No character in Star Wars ever had to poop. John McClain never had a "romantic scene" and he certainly never poops. Legolas Greenleaf never asked Aragorn if he remembered to pack the elven butt-wipe leaves. It doesn't happen, there is no skill or roll associated with it no matter how much you try to convince me there is, and so help me I will smash your character with the bow of the Titanic just to make sure your body is never found if you argue this point with me. And seriously, why would you even want to? And now, a picture to help me make my point -- here's a soldier doin' his business.

"You're welcome."

When's It My Turn?

2012-05-27T16:57:00.001-04:00

Any veteran player can tell you, the more people you have at the table the longer it's going to take to get to your turn. Gamemasters usually have to bend certain game rules in order to accommodate fast-pace action when dealing with a larger group, but even then it can be an uphill battle when every player enjoys being in the spotlight. If a simple task takes a player 5 minutes to complete, and there's 10 people at the table, then your turn to act will be in 50 minutes. Math, people. Only "Role Master" players like math. This leads me to the Yin and Yang battle between two time-consuming player stereotypes I like to call the "I Got This" player vs the "When's It My Turn" player.

"Let the games begin."

The "I Got This" player. He's got this. Whatever it is that needs doing, skilled or not, he's got this. He was planning and plotting the moment the Gamemaster introduced the situation. Nevermind that he's a part of a team, each player with particular strengths and weaknesses -- now that it's finally his turn to act, he's going to make the most of it and do damn-near everything that needs doing. Remember that math thing I showed you earlier? Well, extend that out now because "I Got This" is going to take his sweet time and milk this moment for all it's worth. His crazy and convoluted plan is going to involve multiple rolls of dice, heavy explanation, perhaps a bit of pantomime, a quick intermission as he grabs a snack and pulls the Gamemaster aside for the "secret portion" of the plan, and half-an-hour later we're all still trying to figure out just what in the world he's trying to do.

"No, I'm not trained in this, but I'm going to do it anyway because it's my turn, damnit."

Then there's the "When's It My Turn" player. He's rolled low on initiative once again and will probably act last. Whatever is about to happen, it's got little to do with him right now. So, he leaves. Maybe not physically, but he's not really in the game anymore either. I had a player once who, the moment combat started and initiative was rolled, he turned around, flipped on the Playstation, and said, "Just let me know when it's my turn." The "When's It My Turn" player comes to the game prepared with a book or supplement he can read, a laptop, portable game, tablet, or anything to occupy his ADD while the rest of the team is battling evil and getting the crap blown out of them. You almost feel bad interrupting him, but it's come to his turn to act, and the first words out of his mouth are always "Okay, so, what's going on now?" ...and you want to strangle him. Because now, just like the "I Got This" player, you now have to spend the next several minutes doing a sort of re-cap of everything that just happened, and his turn has just expanded from a two minute action to a thirty-minute flashback story. Damn you, math.

"What? I was listening, just let me beat this level first. What's going on now?"

I'm not saying every turn should be a simple "I attack" or "I move" action, but be conscious of the time, people. Remember the simple math. 5 minutes per turn x 10 people = a long-ass freaking time before it finally gets to that last person, so move it along. And if you can involve your teammates in your action, then suddenly nobody has to wait around because others are playing an active roll throughout the entire initiative.

How do you keep the ball rolling in your role playing campaigns? Leave your comments and share your experiences!

Now On The Nook

2012-05-24T21:14:00.002-04:00

Pardon me for my brief moment of shameless self-promotion, but as it is my blog...

Click Here --> NOW AVAILABLE ON THE NOOK! <--Click Here

That's right all you Nook-a-holics out there, Firecracker is finally available at the Barnes and Noble Nook Store. Firecracker is a fun contemporary fantasy thriller about a young woman named Aideen Cassidy, who has to be careful with her emotions because when she explodes, things literally explode! Being a pyrokinetic - able to start fires with her mind - isn't an easy thing to live with, especially when trying to find work in the modern world. Luck or fate lands her a job with a group of eccentric psychics who use their gifts to help local authorities with difficult cases. They can see the future, sense feelings, read minds - useful traits. All Aideen can do is blow things up. But there' something special about her that has caught the attention of the most powerful psychic in the world, and there are secrets about the organization even the psychics don't know. Plans have been put into motion, secrets are unraveling, lives are in danger, and the group soon find themselves caught in a conspiracy of shadowy monsters, government spies, and ancient legends that date back 600 years.

All Aideen wanted was to fit in. Now the lives of all her new friends must rely on her talents for fiery destruction.

WHAT THE CRITICS HAVE TO SAY...

"This is a fun book that blurs the line between urban fantasy and science fiction. The characters are quirky, the action has a fast pace, and the plot is more than a little twisty. Great popcorn reading." - GoodReads (goodreads.com)

"I was pleasantly surprised to find great characterization, an interesting story, and a spunky heroine... A recommended read for urban fantasy lovers." - Jennifer Bielman (readingandwritingurbanfantasy.blogspot.com)

"Once I started this book, I quite literally couldn't put it down. Fantastic action scenes. Stunningly realistic imagery (Brown dragging his rear on the ground like a dog with worms - read the book to figure that one out!!!). I laughed so loud I woke my wife up." - Amazon (amazon.com)

The Plan

2012-05-24T00:13:00.000-04:00

Robert Zemeckis said it best when he said, "I like to let the heroes work up an elaborate plan first, then I make sure anything and everything that can possibly go wrong goes wrong." I bring this up because my players like to plan. Out loud. While I'm within ear shot. (insert evil laugh here)

"No, this plan is brilliant, please continue... I'm listening..."

As they plan their next move, I'm carefully and quietly doing the "anti-plan" in my head, figuring out all the cinematic and exciting ways I can make everything go wrong. Now while that may seem counterproductive or even frustrating for the players, it's actually what helps transform an otherwise simple board game into an action-adventure epic. Let's face it, if everything went exactly the way the players planned it, it'd be pretty straight forward (and kinda boring after a while). A good story needs conflict. And it's so much more fun when the players have to think quick on their feet. It's why they still plan out loud even though they've caught on to my dastardly ways. It's advantageous for me too because it helps me fill in the gaps of the story.

"I can honestly say I did not see this coming. Still, good plan though."

There are times when the whole "planning process" becomes so elaborate that it consumes most of the campaign session, and that drives me nuts! I remember once while running a game of Shadowrun, the heroes had caught a breather after running for their lives in a safe house and began planning their next move. And planning. And PLANNING. Holy crap, this was the most complex plan in the long sad history of crappy plans and it just kept going. It went away from role playing in character into player debates on what was scientifically possible (in a world where people can conjure living fire elementals and leap 30 feet in the air). So I interrupted their talk with a missile. Yes, a missile. I sent it streaking towards the safe house, giving them seconds to get the Hell out and start running again. It was the first time I had to completely squash a plan -- I prefer it when the players actually start their plan and then struggle to reach their goals. But this was just too much. I couldn't keep track of what it was they were trying to do anymore. So -- yeah. Missile. Not very subtle, I know, but it got 'em hopping again.

"Hey, we were talking, damnit!"

I refer back to Star Wars. Their planning is so wonderfully simple. Their plan on defeating the Death Star? Fly at it, shoot it, then fly away. Great plan! Took all of 3 minutes to figure that one out.

Great Moments in Gaming

2012-04-23T21:18:00.000-04:00

The Game: Shadowrun

A Little Background: We were starting a new campaign. I was asked to make one of the player's characters because she wasn't up to it and game day was quickly approaching. So I did. And what I created was entirely unintentional. You see, I was looking at the stats and thinking "okay, she'll want to be fast, and sneaky, and this and that and the other thing..." but what I had neglected was the first thing she noticed. I had inadvertently made an elf who was ugly and stupid. Really ugly. REALLY stupid. And rather than reroll the character, she decided to run with it. We're so glad she did.

Tolkien weeps for you. You make me want to pee myself.

The Scene: The team had accepted a cryptic invitation by a mysterious stranger, which is the usual plot opening in a Shadowrun campaign. They entered a condemned building in an abandoned part of the city, and from the shadows emerged a creature of legend. A dragon. He had come to bestow a warning onto the party for their path...

"I'm touching you..."

Stop that. For their path was leading them to...

"I'm still touching you..."

STOP THAT! For their path was leading them to their doom. Then he silently and mysteriously slunk back into the shadows, vanishing out of sight.

"I'm still touching you..."

GAAA!!! CREEPY ELF!!! Go away!!!

I'm Mr. Awesome

2012-04-22T14:24:00.000-04:00

Veteran gamers will know the guy I'm talking about before you can finish reading this sentence. He knows the rules of the game better than you, can recite the tables and charts from memory, and knows exactly which rules he can exploit to make the ultimate character. His stats are perfect. His skills and feats designed to make him a one-man army. When he shows up for gaming, he brings his own GM screen so he can hide his rolls from the rest of you -- and he always rolls good. If a goal is so impossibly difficult it requires a 20 to turn up on a d20 die, he'll be the one who pulls it off. You may not get to see it, but he swears he's done it and he doesn't do "re-rolls". At the end of the gaming session, he takes his character sheet home with him. You are not allowed to see it. The rest of you are a supporting cast to his lead role in your epic adventure, and none of you are necessary to complete any task because he can do it all. If you're adventure comes from a pre-written module, he's already read it. Don't even think about altering the rules because he'll call you out on it every time and your gaming session will turn into a law debate.

In a word, a douchebag.

Every turn is my turn! You get no turns! You lose! Good day, sir!

So how did it come to this? Who invited this guy to the party? And how do you deal with him? No, seriously, I'm asking. I have no straight-forward answers. All I have are suggested ways of dealing with the situation so his presence in your game doesn't cause a voluntary total-party-kill. My apologies if any of these things seem juvenile, but they aren't meant for you. They're meant for the Gamemaster dealing with the douchbag at the table.

Step 1: Change the Game. There are hundreds -- literally, hundreds -- of role playing games out there. New games are published every year. And let's face it, the actual rule system doesn't matter. What does matter is the story and the characters, and that can bend to any rule system. Even a pre-written module can be altered to fit a new story. You want to play Star Wars? You can use the classic d6 rules, the d20 rules, the Saga Edition rules, GURPS, FATE, FUDGE... Who cares?! As long as they get to play Jedi and Smugglers, they'll be fine. Find a game system he doesn't know or has never heard of. Even a small change like going from D&D to Pathfinder or D20 Modern might be enough to throw him off his game and into yours.

What's sad is ... I think I own all of these.

Step 2: Digital Character Sheets. Okay, I personally just find this convenient from a Gamemaster's perspective. If you keep all the characters together on your computer, you can easily update them, re-print them if they get lost or damaged, add special treasures to players without the other players knowing (if you like that cloak n' dagger kind of thing) -- and you don't have to worry about players altering their own sheets behind your back.

Step 3: Rewards for Failure. This is a house rule I implemented a while back and it works great for my campaigns. I offer bonus experience (or some other bonus) for "critical failures". No such bonus for a critical success because they're already getting double-damage or whatever the rules deem worthy. But I've always believed people learn from their mistakes more than their successes. The new house rule means players don't feel bad about screwing up. Their character might shoot their toes off or blow up a teammate because of the failed roll, but they gain a bonus to use later which curbs against the impulse to cheat. Kinda tricky, I know, but it works.

Well, if you screw this up, at least you'll have learned something...

So these are my tips. How do you deal with the know-it-all douchebag player? Leave your comments!

No, Game Over, You Win.

2012-04-15T22:06:00.000-04:00

One of the things I enjoy is occasionally indoctrinating a new player. I say occasionally because I'm pretty sure if I had to do it on a regular basis I'd have a basement full of dead bodies. But as long as I'm only doing it once in a while, the experience can be fun. That early skepticism, the doubt that they'll be accepted as a voice in the group, then that wide-eyed moment when they realize their character is about to do something really cool. Before you know it, they're hooked -- and we've got ourselves a new player. ...most of the time.

Sometimes, believe it or not, it just doesn't take. Despite anticipations and lengthy explanations on how cool it is and how much fun we have, role playing isn't for everyone. You can choose to deny this and go on believing that "anyone can game" just like it says on the box, or you can read on knowing I'm about to introduce you to people who will never accept your invitations to D&D night.

Trust me, you're gonna like this! Fun, right?

Player One: The Ranger. Dungeons & Dragons. Viggo Mortensen's portrayal of Aragorn pretty much defines what a ranger is. A cunning tracker, effective with a bow or a sword, quick and stealthy, and knows the forests like the back of his hand. So imagine my surprise when this player wanted a ranger with a fear of snakes. "Seriously," I said, "a fear of snakes? You're a ranger -- why are you afraid of snakes?" The reasoning was simple. They're icky. It all spiraled downhill from there. This ranger carried not one but two long bows across each shoulder but lacked the talent to use either one, didn't want to touch anything that was deemed "icky", and got annoyed when I said the Charm Animal skill won't work on the demon critters trying to kill the party. It's difficult for other players to utilize the talents of a Ranger who's afraid of the woods, doesn't like the dark, and refuses to touch anything wet, slimy, or otherwise unpleasant (which isn't easy to avoid in a dark ages D&D campaign). Player One had no fun, and that was the end of that.

...no, I got my Ranger License from a cereal box. Really, how do I get home from here?

Player Two: The Superhero from Hell. Mutants and Masterminds. Okay, where to even begin with this one. Player Two was a psycho. Let's start there. Part of the fun of a superhero RPG is the ability to make quite literally anything you can imagine. When I say that, most people gear their minds towards the classic 4-color comic book world or some overpowered planet-shattering anime. Player Two said "I want to make a giant snake. With wings. That breathes fire!" Oh no, he was quite serious and really excited about bringing his deranged fantasy to life. And silly me -- I let it happen. It's his first game, I thought it important he get to experience it his own way. I was also afraid he was going to stab me in the eye with his pencil. Minutes later, the city was in peril and the team raced to save the citizens of ... Oh My God, the Flying Snake Thing is randomly eating citizens and burning shit to the ground! Player Two rocked on his heels and cackled maniacally as he ordered his creation to eat every passersby and poop flames onto every corner gas station. Nobody really knew what to do with that, so we stayed out of his way, declared him "The Winner of The Game", and watched a movie.

I'm here to save the motha effin' day, bitches! Die!!!

And finally, our honorable mention, Player Three: The Fighter. Dungeons & Dragons. So young and eager and full of vigor. Ready to take on whatever challenges lay ahead. Okay, maybe a little too eager. Enough that his voice was starting to sound like a chipmunk on ecstasy and Red Bull. It wasn't long before his decisions were a little ... erratic.

"Combat has started. You go first."
"I stab him!"
"You can be a little more elaborate if you want. It doesn't have to be as simple as that."
"Okay. I stab him in the brain!"
...sigh.

And that set the tone for the evening. Every action, every turn, was another hyperactive chance to blurt out that he was going to stab someone in a very specific organ. "I stab him in the appendix!" and "I stab him in the liver!"... and finally, "This is kinda lame because all I can do is stab people." I wanted to correct him, but was afraid of what the outcome might be.

Creative? No. Effective? Yeah, mostly. Now pick an organ.

These players gave it the ol' college try, but either couldn't grasp the concept, didn't want to grasp the concept, or were just too unhinged and should be blacklisted by the RPGA. Regardless, they're not coming back. But their memories will live on at our drunkest moments.

The Unlucky Me

2012-04-08T13:28:00.001-04:00

Some heroes talk of the cities or planets they've saved, the princesses they rescued, the monsters they've slain, and the times they danced with death and pulled off feats of impossible agility and strength to triumph over the forces of gamemastery evil.

Then there's my characters. They ... um ... don't often live up to "hero" expectations.

I've had gun-toting muscle giants suddenly -- accidentally -- set on fire. I've had superheroes fall out of bathroom windows. I had a vampire in the "World of Darkness" series fumble so epically I make the cast of Twilight look like the next Expendables team. You see, my vampire's name was Cosmo, a former British boy-band member turned drug addict before being turned into a vampire. In a word, pathetic -- but fitting with my overall opinion on vampires. Anyway, you'd think being transformed into a superhuman predator of the night would improve his chances of survival -- but you'd be mistaken. The others were investigating an apartment building by flying or whatever to the roof of the building in order to sneak in. I was ordered to wait with the car. As predicted, I disobeyed and walked in through the front door. My goal was to simply sneak up through the front entrance. The apartment had one of those managers dressed in a red uniform who greets residents and guests. I attempt to charm him a bit, but that fails miserably. So I attempt to beat him over the head with the telephone on the desk, not realizing it was cheap plastic. I also didn't realize the apartment manager was actually Chuck Norris at his night-job. The phone breaks over his head. I freak, he starts yelling, I start screaming and hissing, ...he produces a shot gun from under the counter! I start screaming like a little girl, and he shoots me. BLAM! I go soaring out through the front door in an explosion of glass and blood and teeth. I'm running with a limp to try and get away, screaming "I'm a vampire, damnit! I'm a creature of the night and-- NO! Get away from me! Somebody save me!!!" He shoots me again in the leg, stalks towards me like it's just another day of taking out the trash, and starts beating me in the face with the butt of his gun until I'm nice and still. It's at that point he turns around to go back and call the coroner.

Later, my friends scoop me up with a shovel, toss me into the back of the "get-away car", and take me home to heal. Because, well, I AM an immortal creature of darkness and... aw, phooey.

More recently for a superhero campaign I made a scientist who was akin to The Rocketeer. Cool jacket. Super-cool jet pack. Somewhat dorky but necessary helmet. Great in theory -- unless you're flying at nearly 200 mph like, well, a rocket, and then some random thug shoots you and knocks you unconscious. You plummet back to the earth like a meteor. That's bad enough, but after digging a nice-size crater with my limp and broken body, my super-cool jet pack malfunctions and fires up! My helmet has a fin on it like the Rocketeer, which now doubles as a very effective jet-propelled farm plow. I dig a mile-long trench with my head along the compact dirt near the edge of a forest before exploding like a cheap Star Wars prop against a tree. This act does not impress the bad guys and it's up to the rest of my superhero team to finish saving the world. Mostly because they have cool powers that don't suck...

Nice helmet, douchebag.

Later, my friends scoop me up with a shovel, toss me into the back of the "super-hero car", and take me home to heal. Because, well, I AM a comic book super hero and... eh, whatever.

A New Space-Noir Adventure

2012-04-05T19:46:00.000-04:00

As one storyline comes to an epic conclusion (some involving my character plowing into the ground like a freaking meteor thanks to a crappy die-roll), another begins. I'm back to the forefront as the Gamemaster, and we're headed into the realm I'm most comfortable in - Science Fantasy. This time around, I'm blending an old sci-fi world I created a long time ago with the many alien races and cool gadgets from the video game series "Mass Effect". My weapon of choice: D20 Modern/Future, my favorite and, in my opinion, most versatile of all the systems. Sure it's not as in-depth as GURPS, but why should I have 30 different skills if I only ever roll one or two of them - ever? Simplicity is key for my style of fast-pace action storytelling, and I don't like to be bogged down with rules while I'm trying to blow things up- ...I mean, tell a story. And I enjoy the fact that the system utilizes all of the various dice in my arsenal. Now, let's meet the cast...

The Soldier: The only human in the group. Very tough, enhanced with cybernetic implants, and crazy. No, really, he's freaking bat-shit insane. This is not the kind of guy you should give a gun to, and he's got like six of them. Oh, and he's also the leader of the group, so this should give a good indication as to what direction the team will go. (I'm thinking somewhere in the world, Michael Bay is smiling...)
The Technical Engineer: A native of the forest moon of Ganymede (a mix of a humanoid dog/monkey creature with a prehensile tail, kangaroo-like ears and a horse's mane). Yes, this does make him a "Grease Monkey".
The Mercenary: A Krogen with the unique talent of completely losing his shit and going all Incredible Hulk on you if you piss him off. The down-side is damn near everything pisses him off. Your shirt pisses him off. He's going to rip it off you, fill it with rocks, and beat you to death with it to the tune of "I'm So Pretty" just so he can damage your soul too.
The Pilot: A Cattan (cat-like humanoid), and the best damn pilot in the Terminus System. Fast, strong, the reflexes and agility of a cat - and the attention span of one. Oh, look, shiny! And she pounces!
The Spy: It might be a little cliche for a telepath to enlist her services as a spy - but can you think of anyone better qualified? She's also a gifted telekinetic, so when diplomacy fails she can clear a hallway a-la Force Unleashed and go all "Angry-Sith-Lord" on your ass.
The Hacker: It's the future, so everything is run by advanced computers. What's more dangerous than a talented computer hacker? How about a Quarian computer hacker with an Omni-Tool, capable of hacking sophisticated artificial intelligence. He's like "Eagle Eye", but less predictable and with fewer plot holes.

Characters are set. Storyline ready. First adventure planned. Tomorrow, we kick some ass...

The Chair

2012-04-02T21:28:00.000-04:00

Allow me to introduce "The Chair". This innocent-seeming piece of impulse-buy furniture sits at the corner of our gaming group table, waiting for its next prey. What does it eat? Human souls, mostly. You see, long ago in ancient times a hentai- tentacle monster whose name cannot be spoken aloud once sat here. On dark, stormy nights you can still see the shadows of its many writhing appendages wanting to grope at your naughty bits. As it has no physical form of its own anymore, it now influences the thoughts of those who dare place their butt here.

At least, that's the best we can figure. I've seen innocent friends - friends who are uncomfortable uttering foul language in a crowd - suddenly spout off things that would make a sailor blush when sitting in this chair. We've determined it's the chair and not the people because it changes week-by-week depending on who sits in the chair.

"I can't believe you just said that!" someone will say, followed immediately by someone else noting what should have been obvious by now, "It's the chair! He's sitting in The Chair!"

Like any horror film featuring a soul-consuming cathedra of aluminum and polyester, we forget and continue to fall for its devil trickery every week. We grab our beverages, break out the dice and paper, and figure out seating on a first-come, first-sit basis -- and it's not even the last seat picked. A few beers later, and someone's either comparing a Great Wyrm to the size of their junk, or trying to defeat a Great Wyrm using their character's junk. My personal favorite was when my friend sitting in The Chair decided his character had a Scottish accent, and his best remedy for curing ailments was to pee on it.

"I'm wounded!" a teammate cries.

(Imagine thick Scottish accent) - "Settle down, laddy. I'd better pee on that so's it don't get infected."

...and then we all stare blankly before someone says, "Oh. It's the chair."

Let The Games Begin

2012-03-22T22:01:00.001-04:00

What is a Tabletop Roleplaying Game? If you're looking for the technical definition, here's a link to the Wikipedia site. It'll define the basic ins and outs that'll have you sighing "Oh God, that's dorky" and wondering if anyone ever sat next to me in the lunch room. Now, here's MY definition.

Remember those old pictures of Native Americans as they sat around a bonfire telling stories? Or how about when you were a kid at summer camp, telling tales and urban legends around a camp fire. You embellish the story as you see fit to play to your audience and to give it that personal flare of imagination that captures every eye and ear around you. It's a pretty awesome feeling to know your story has hooked someone, made even better when you can see it happening. Well, a Tabletop RPG is something much more akin to that experience rather than a typical board game, if you let it. Once a week, I get to invent a story. I don't give myself much in the way of preparation beyond a basic synopsis of what I'd like to do, and a rule book in my lap for all that technical stuff that's mandatory for a fair game. Then I let the ideas fly. It's like Tai Bo training for the brain. You gotta be quick because you never quite know what your players are going to do next, and your story has to be flexible enough to accommodate their choices and actions, all the while inventing and re-inventing a plot that will keep everyone's interest alive.

Meanwhile, my players - my friends - get to invent characters of their own and bring them to life within the context of my story. Here I get to watch as they create entire personalities. It's fun to see what they'll come up with, how they'll play it, what choices they'll make throughout the story. I like to emphasize character development, just as any good novel or movie would have.

Sure there's also the joy of having friends over. We laugh, drink beer, eat my wife's homemade cookies, and spend a portion of the night showing each other various YouTube clips we've discovered over the week that we haven't posted to Facebook. But we're here to game, damnit. And game, we shall. ...most of the time.

Our next game session is tomorrow. We're towards the end of a story arc in GURPS "Superheroes Through the Ages" - a game my friend Courtney is running that takes a band of superheroes through decades of character development, starting in the pulp era of the 1920's. At that point, this blog can officially kick off. In the meantime, let the dice fall where they may.