In fact, it will go one step further, and assume that you're interested in giving it a try. Today, I'm going to give some ideas on how to take that vital first step. How do you find other people with whom you can play?

Finding a Group

Let's just get this out there, role playing carries a bit of a social stigma. You've probably seen gamers depicted as socially inept basement dwellers with coke bottle glasses, and Cheeto-stained fingers. With some of us, admittedly, this can be painfully accurate. However, the fact that there really are dumb jocks obviously doesn't mean that everybody who plays sports is stupid.

In fact, the social aspect of role playing is at least as important as everything else. You can have the best story ever told, the most awesome character, and a cool set of dice, but without a group to share it with, you're kind of dead in the water. In the same way that a great band can riff off each others' virtuosity, a great gaming group can combine its members' creativity to come up with something that is far greater than the sum of the parts.

You can play a role playing game with one other person, but it can be difficult. In my opinion, the sweet spot tends to be between four and six. With less, you can start to lose creative momentum, and with more the game can get crowded and frenetic. Still, I've had fun in two-person games, and a friend regularly runs one with eleven players.

Friends

My first suggestion would be to look among your current friends. The odds are, at least some of them will be interested in giving gaming a try. This is especially true if you have friends who share an interest in a particular genre of books or movies. Try suggesting a game that fits your favorite stories, and start telling your own!

Community

Unless you live in a really tiny town, changes are good that there are already gamers near you. I come from a pretty darn small town, and we had at least one gaming group. Keep an eye out for gaming books, and funny dice.

Many communities also have clubs dedicated to role playing. This is especially true in college towns. Check your local event boards, and you might be surprised.

Gaming Shops

Another way to find an existing group is to frequent gaming shops. By this, I don't mean a book store that happens to sell RPG books. I mean a shop that has a good portion of the store devoted to game material.

Not only are they a great place to meet other gamers in general, but they will sometimes host games too. Don't interrupt the game, but if one's just getting started, they might let you sit in. Gaming shops often also have sign-up sheets for games looking for players.

Internet

It seems like the internet pops up in just about every other aspect of life, and gaming groups are no different. Meetup.com is a great way to find other gamers, and it has the advantage of being location-oriented, so you'll be able to find folks close to you. In fact, this is exactly how I met Charlie and Matt! I've looked at other sites, but I never had much luck.

Organized Play

Some RPG companies sponsor free public gaming sessions. These will often involve unique content, and subsequent episodes will follow an overall plot. Due to their open nature, they tend to focus on the mechanical aspects of the game, at least from what I've seen. They would be a great way to meet people, and learn the game though.

Priming

Making that first connection into a group is the most difficult part. I can just about guarantee that once you find the first couple people, it will start to gain momentum from there. Then the only question left will be what to play. Luckily, I'm going to cover that one next week!

Resources

• What is a Role Playing Game?
• Meetup.com
• Paizo's Pathfinder Society
• Wizards of the Coast's RPGA

Wil Delving & The Werewolf

Not too long ago, I described the stunning feat of athleticism that Chase's character used to thwart a dire werewolf's attempts to eat his friends.  ("Happy Birthday Chase!")  With daggers in both hands, Wil Delving (Level 4 Rogue) dove headlong through a tavern window, used his natural athleticism to tuck and roll fluidly up to his knees, and ended in a perfect position to launch his daggers at the monstrous lycanthrope.  True, an appropriate Jump check or high Athletics skill aided the character in his actions.  What made this moment so theatrical, however, wasn't the success of Chase's dice roles, but rather his energetic description of the action itself.  Whether you're a player valiantly jumping through a window or a game master controlling a monster that's just been killed, you can add some creative narration to make even a failed action a dramatic success.

The White Crown Conundrum

Much like Wil Delving's tale above, you may remember hearing of another dramatic moment from our vintage White Crown campaign.  ("Nothing More Than Feelings")  Much blood had been shed to obtain the Crown, a mystic and marvelous artifact from ages past.  Even more blood had been shed in keeping its power out of the wrong hands.  In fact, the religious authorities in our group were insistent that use of the White Crown for even the noblest of purposes may risk the soul of the one who wore it.  In short, the Crown was forbidden fruit.

As the party became bitterly embroiled in the battle between good and evil, however, one of our characters had to make a difficult choice.  Justin's inquisitor had to go against the established rules of the road to save the inhabitants of our home town.  He had to don the Crown, and risk the fate of his soul.  This also meant he had to act in opposition to what the group had decided, because his character deemed it a necessary action.  Consequently, it was greeted with surprised gasps and stares of awe.    It also provided an emotional climax to a tense conflict, and a great theatrical moment in our game.

I would never advocate open defiance of the wishes of your fellow gamers, especially if it's just to make waves.  However, those moments that require a character to make a stand, even against the group's status quo, can provide a rich apex in the campaign.

Just Showing Off

We've all probably witnessed an extreme scene in a movie that seemed to ignore the laws of physics to show just how B.A. a character (hero or villain) really is.  Finding opportunities to feature a character's unique attributes can add some appropriate panache to an otherwise routine encounter.

Wil Delving made use of his high Athletics skill above.  My Gunslinger in our current Pathfinder campaign ("Character Court: The Case of Jerusalem Jax") pulled a similar rabbit out of his mercenary hat in a recent session.  Exploiting a mechanic called "Grit", which rewards a Gunslinger for astounding acts of daring-do, Jax leapt up from his seat in a dugout canoe, vaulted onto the back of a marauding crocodile, springboarded onto the head of the toothy reptile's mate, and buried the barrel of his pistol in the monster's maw.  While the momentum actually resulted in Jax's whole arm lodging itself in the croc's gullet, the daredevil character achieved his prize: neutralizing the threat of the oncoming monster, and drawing some 'ooos'  and 'aaahs' from his fellow party members.

Matt's character in our Dresden Files  game got a similar opportunity not too long ago, much to the chagrin of my PC.  Used to getting his way, my slimy sophisticated organized crime 'fixer' tried to exert some undue influence over Matt's PC, a haggard but resilient ex-cop.  Who happened to have some supernatural ancestry.  And superhuman strength.

The revelation of these exceptional attributes in-game was a dramatic moment indeed; it's not every day the average human is picked up by the throat like a rag doll and stared down by the glowing red eyes of a mystic hunting hound that had, just moments ago, been a human being.  A roll wasn't even necessary to determine my character's reaction.  He simply wet his pants and agreed to play his part.

The Inquisitorial Invader

I don't think any player in our recent Cabin Trip campaign would say that they were surprised by the outcome of our final session: our party rescued their kingdom, thwarted the forces of evil, and anointed a new sultan named Timur.  Much of this was already advertised before the start of our campaign, and much of the rest was talked through and suggested between our sessions.  In previous posts, I've been very open about the fact that I tailored the majority of our desert-themed adventure to suit the preferences of the players, in the hopes that they would tell a story that they owned, loved, and would take pride in retelling for years to come.  When Chase mentioned yesterday that the party appreciated being allowed to direct their own fates in the game, it gave me great personal satisfaction to know that the group enjoyed the journey as much (if not more) than the destination.

This climate of collaborative creativity made for a richer story, but it also deepened the effects when I got to unleash the element of surprise on the party.

The mythos of this campaign world is steeped in national identity, and the players readily embraced their roles in the present salvation of that nation .  I had made sure to include at every opportunity not-so-subtle reminders that until their mission was achieved, their homeland was vulnerable to the greedy forces of neighboring empires.  In our original game setting, no other organization represents that threat to national freedom and cultural tolerance better than the Holy Inquisition.

It seemed only fitting, then, that after purging the devil inside- journeying to the Island of the Dead, fighting an angel of vengeance, and reclaiming the soul of the broken and deposed former sultan who had been banished months before- the party should have to exorcise some external demons as well.  That's why I made sure that when their skiff returned to their safe harbor at sunset, beleaguered and ready for an extended rest, an Inquisitorial mob was waiting to greet them- fully armed and torches burning.

The cinematic moment played out exactly as I had hoped.  The players' jaws dropped, and their eyes narrowed.  The characters' heads snapped around , and their hands reached for their blades.  I must admit, however, that I was not completely prepared for just how dramatic this moment would be.

All of a sudden, the bickering, suspicion, and emotional conflict that had divided the party became a laser beam of hatred and indignation aimed at the Inquisitor and his men.  The group unified in total and proud defense of their native soil, and brought the full strength of their convictions to bear on this band of interlopers.  The element of surprise worked in both directions here, and the encounter built to a fervent crescendo that rivaled the climactic battle that had just been fought in the ancient necropolis.

Death-Defying Deeds

All too often in role-playing situations, we as players avoid a character's end to the exclusion of all else.  While PC survival normally tops my list of priorities, sometimes a noble end is the defining moment for a hero.  Think of Aslan in The Chronicles of Narnia, or Obi-Wan Kenobi in A New Hope; those scenarios where a character faces certain death for the greater good have legendary effects on their allies, and even their enemies.

There seems to be an ample supply of this self-sacrificing attitude in the history of Cabin Trip games.  Chase and I both lost characters within five minutes of each other during our White Crown campaign, as mine died defending his party, and Chase's died trying to rescue me.  ("In Memoriam: Jerome de la Croix")  Our last outing was no different, with one notable exception: No one died.

The heroic party had brought the banished sultan to the highest court in the land, hoping to redeem him in the eyes of the law.  However, the holy tribunal quickly sentenced the deposed monarch to immediate death, as he had flaunted their previous banishment decree.  In a supremely altruistic effort to spare the prisoner from his grisly fate, Charlie's character offered his life in place of his former lord.  ("On Making a Messiah: The Machinations of Zaim al-Tahir")  After all attempts to bargain for the lives of the condemned had fallen on deaf ears, the executioner was summoned to carry out the sentence.

In the terrible strained moments that followed, the assembled champions braced for the worst.  Some turned their eyes away, muttering prayers as they waited for the fall of the blade.  Some stood by Zaim's side, loyal to the last.  Some stormed out of the court, threatening to bring about true justice in their own time.  And one- Chase's conscripted slave Timur- did something to make even Obi Wan proud.  He stepped in front of the sword.

The executioner's scimitar shattered, its broken metal jangling to the floor.  The court's power was not great enough to shed innocent blood, and all were spared.  The noble sacrifice had been successful, and the redemption of the heroes and their former king had been achieved.  Of course, neither Charlie nor Chase could've known that their characters would not perish in that moment.  Yet both, in truly noble and cinematic fashion, were willing to fall onto their swords (so to speak) to make things right.

Waiting For The Sequel

While the end of an adventure can frequently add a satisfying payoff to your tale, every episode of your game can hold opportunities to create profound cinematic moments that would make Hollywood proud.  All it takes is a talented cast, and the right dramatic catalyst.

Related Posts

• Happy Birthday Chase!
• Nothing More Than Feelings
• Character Court: The Case of Jerusalem Jax
• In Memoriam: Jerome de la Croix
• On Making a Messiah: The Machinations of Zaim al-Tahir

Would you like to share an exceptional dramatic moment your group has created in a game?  Do you have tricks you use to consistently up the theatrical value of the encounters in your campaigns?  Give us a preview in the Comments!

Real Character Growth

Let me be clear. By "character growth", I don't mean that your character goes from level one to level five. That's character advancement. Character growth is the concept that character should be changed by the crazy things she goes through in a role playing game. The Jedi Knight who burns his father's remains on Endor is very different from Luke the naive farm boy. The hobbit who attends his uncle Bilbo's birthday party is practically a separate person from the one who departs with the Elves years later.

The events in role-playing games are out of the ordinary. Nobody wants to play the "daily grind" game, we do that every day. However, you can't face the extraordinary things our characters do without being changed. How twitchy would you be if you got ambushed by street samurai every other day? How many friends to you have to see fall in running battles through underground warrens before you succumbed to PTSD? After outwitting mighty dragons, you're certainly not going to be the same timid homebody that shut the door at Bag End.

Happens To Us All

I vividly remember my first experience with a real character arc. It wasn't anywhere near as dramatic as what happened in Bryan's game, and it was completely unplanned. This was in our now-infamous White Crown Game, with my character Wil Delving.

When the game opened, Wil was a precocious teenager in a small frontier town. He quite literally stole pies, and broke down in tears when challenged by an Inquisitor. He was about pranks and mischief, and if the town guard weren't quite the enemy, he certainly had to watch himself around most of them.

After spending several months risking his life to save his country from an ancient artifact, though, he wasn't nearly the lighthearted prankster he had been. He was still a incorrigible rascal, as Bryan depicted in his post on my birthday. However, he was much more practical. The character to whom he was probably closest was the Captain of the town guard. He certainly wouldn't have wasted his time stealing pies. To put it simply, Wil had grown up while I wasn't watching.

From Slave to Sultan

I have no idea where Bryan intended this game to go. As he mentioned in a previous post, he let us players have a free hand in guiding the story. Thanks to the fact that we could feel, from the beginning, that we could steer the game, it allowed us to do some planning and foreshadowing of how our characters might change.

My character, Timur, was a proud prince of an outcast ethnic group, enslaved into soldiery by the land's Sultan. Before the game, I had mentioned to Bryan that I thought it would be cool if he took the throne himself. Little did I know where the game would go.

Think Fast

As it began, we were notified that the Sultan has been deposed. When our characters were asked to elect a leader to temporarily speak for the nation, we chose Charlie's character. Unfortunately, the last thing he wanted was power, and as his first action, he handed power to mine.

Now I was at an impasse. I had pictured a story of the slave rising up to conquer the land of his master. Now, however, my character was being handed power, and that story didn't quite work anymore. I decided, then, that he needed an entirely different theme.

Instead of being a conquerer, he would be a proud but simple warrior, learning to deal with the power that had been handed him. Thankfully, this change was made in the first few minutes of the game, so there wasn't a big personality shift. From that point, he began to rely heavily upon his more "learned" companions to guide him through the intricacies of big decisions and social situations.

Character Arc

I wasn't sure how many episodes Bryan had in store for us, but I decided that, in each one, he would be a little more sure of himself. In the first game, I took what the others recommended, and gave them back what I thought was the wisest course. In the second, my character gave more consideration to larger issues, and began to interject his own ideas. By our final game, he thought more about the nation than his own problems, and was far more comfortable taking the initiative and making rulings.

Mechanically, Timur was hampered in his negotiations with influential people by his lack of talent in Fourth Edition Diplomacy. To model his growth, then, I multiclassed him from Fighter to Warlord for the third game, and took training in that skill. Though I never actually used anything from that change, it worked great symbolically.

By the close of the game, Timur was indeed named Sultan. He still wasn't completely comfortable with power, but he had come a long way since it had been passed to him. I suspect that it was at least partially his initial discomfort that allowed the other characters to trust him with that power in the first place. While he still listened to his companions, in the end, he was also making decisions for himself that would affect his nation's future.

Looking Back

At the time of character creation, Timur probably wasn't my favorite character to play. He was a taciturn fellow, more given to brooding than joking with his friends. Outside of combat, he wasn't much of a "take charge" kind of guy. Especially in the beginning, I had to speak simply, and hold back a lot of what I thought (as a player), which is surprisingly hard.

In contrast, Wil was much more fun to play. He probably had the least power of the group, but he was free to make wisecracks to his heart's content. He was also much more clever and educated, so it was easier to justify having him chip in on the high level discussions.

Despite that dichotomy, both Timur and Wil are now two of my favorite characters. They each have not only the larger story of which they were a part, but also a deeply personal journey, which nobody else could quite duplicate. They each seem more real, and more meaningful, because I can look back on them both to see their travels etched in their faces; Timur's as he's crowned Sultan, and Wil's as he falls to an enemy's blade. Somehow, both are satisfying.

Related Posts

• On Making a Messiah: The Machinations of Zaim al Tahir
• Choose Their Own Adventure
• With Great Power, Comes Great... Confusion
• Horsing Around (or Not) in Fourth Edition
• Happy Birthday Chase!
• In Memoriam: Wil Delving
• Making Friends: Creating a Character You’ll Love to Play No Matter How Often He Hits

Do you have characters that were changed by their adventures? Have you found ones changing under your nose? Has one of your PCs become ruler of a nation? Let us know in the comments!

When Bad Things are done by Good People

Erik over at Tenkar's Tavern had two thought-provoking posts on player characters and interrogation. I've recently reflected on how to encourage heroic behavior in gameplay, and Erik's article "Why are PCs so hooked on torture?" approaches a similar idea from a different angle. Like most gamers, I've been in situations with the one remaining orc, gnoll, or even human bad guy--those situations where it seems like the only way forward are to get answers out of the NPC by whatever means necessary.

Ironically, as a GM I've never designed a game where players could only uncover the next lead on their mission by beating it out of a bad guy. However, I've certainly been in situations as a player where that seems to be the best solution. I wonder why player's minds go to this "solution" so quickly? I also wonder what a typical group of players would do if they stumbled across a scene with four to six heavily-armed and armored warriors terrorizing a defenseless goblin. Who looks like the good guy here?

If you're not into solving this problem, and simply want to continue enabling players' bad behavior, Erik has helpfully provided a chart: "Random Tables for Interrogation / Prisoner Debriefing (Torture By the Numbers)"

Links:

• Why are PCs So Hooked on Torture
• Random Tables for Interrogation / Prisoner Debriefing (Torture By The Numbers)

What is Wondrous in Your World?

Bartoneus at Critical Hits suggests adding a handful of wonders to your campaign world, a la the Seven Wonders of the World. This post really got my mind working. I'm afraid I fit the stereotype of the GM who develops one page of campaign material that is read by players for every twenty pages that gather dust on a shelf. As someone who loves creating histories, what better way to make these histories tangible to players than marking them with something akin to the Sphinx or Grand Canyon?

I've unintentionally done this, but there is a magic to doing this with intent--and adding wonders that you don't necessarily plan on visiting. I also wonder how cool it would be to have a "lost wonder" like the Hanging Gardens--how cool would it be for your PCs to stumble across such a wonder deep in a forgotten dungeon?

Link: The Architect DM: Seven Wonders of Your World

The Fast and the Foolish

Roger at Roles, Rules, and Rolls reflects on those times when winning initiative really isn't beneficial to the player. While his focus is on "skirmish combat rules, where the chance to go first is re-determined every round," I couldn't help but think of many occasions when I've had surprise in D&D, but the limited rules really prevent me from doing anything other than exposing my position.

I appreciate that Roger goes a step beyond the mechanics to some ideas that would find themselves at home in a FATE-style game. He talks about the benefits of losing initiative. Lastly, he describes a method of play that I experienced at a great Adventure! Tales of the Aeon Society game at GenCon: players declare their actions before anything is resolved. I could imagine building mechanics around this concept in very interesting ways.

Link: Why Must Having Initiative Always Be Good?

I've Been Outclassed

I'll admit that many of my "2d4" series of posts that describe new items, spells, or rituals are heavily influenced by Zak S' Vornheim: The Complete City Kit. Zak has a way of taking a few dozen words to create a vivid new reality in a game--often a reality that leaves one feeling just a bit unsettled.

I've been very much outclassed in my attempts to emulate this style by JDJarvis at Aeons & Auguries. His Inhuman Treasures II post offers three new (and thoroughly disturbing) items for necromancers and the ghouls who love them. I won't profane his artistry with further words of my own--just go read it.

Link: Inhuman Treasures II

Gamers Sling Mud Like Someone who gets a -6 Penalty to Strength

I'll admit--you've never seen a link roundup post like this one from me before, because for the last year or so I've been very much out of the scene when it comes to reading gaming blogs. I know--I feel horrible about it too. Needless to say, I've begun reading them again recently, and immediately found myself in the midst of a world-wide-web-wide hissy fit on the nature of gender and player characters.

I've not taken the time to educate myself about the origin of this conflict, mostly because the concepts of "education" and "this conflict" seem diametrically opposed. I have, however, seen one intelligent post on the matter--a gem from Vanir at Critical Hits. In "The Statistical Truth about Gender and Stat Modifiers," Vanir does thorough demographic research to give a unique insight into this argument.

Link: The Statistical Truth about Gender and Stat Modifiers

"Steal This Idea" is an ongoing series in which an element from the media is examined for use in games. These articles will provide a basic description of the scene in which the element occurs is necessary to introduce the idea for gaming, and hooks to use that idea in various kinds of RPGs. We will always reference the title of the media in the article headline, so you can skip this post if you're worried about spoilers.

The end of season 3 of Fringe features Peter, one of the main characters, erasing himself from the space-time continuum in order to begin to heal a breach between parallel universes. Despite this handicap, Peter has remained a part of the show in the currently-running Season 4, either as an apparition in the dreams of one character, or as an image on a reflective surface seen by another character.

He hasn't (yet) influenced the plot or characters in a significant way, but that got me thinking, what if he did?

What if a gaming group pulled off this kind of storyline in a campaign arc? And I don't mean cheaply, with a "here one minute, gone the next" type of NPC. Could a game effectively work with a full-fledged PC who played a character that is not present to the rest of the party, and have it be fun for all involved?

Concerns and possibilities

Communication is one of the biggest factors around the game table, at that factor seems to be the most limited when considering this manner of game. After all, the whole point of this story element is that a character can't communicate in normal ways, or this effect is ruined.

Clearly, the role of the character has to be more than Peter's has been so far. The character has to influence the game in a meaningful way--and that way has to be different enough from a flesh-and-blood character's role to make this effort worthwhile.

Threats to the non-present character must also be considered. Keeping someone alive is a motivating factor in many games, so when death is removed as a threat, a GM must think about how to threaten and motivate the player. Keeping the other characters alive is a good start, but there are usually more options.

Finally, when exploring this possibility, also examine your game system and style. What's the purpose of your game? If it is killing monsters and taking stuff, you need to find both a way to let your ethereal character help kill stuff, and to benefit from the loot.

With this in mind, here are a few ways to implement this.

Idea 1: What's your name, who's your deity?

In games I've played, a cleric's deity has often not played a major role in the story. But what if the deity were a party member?

It seems this would only work if most or all of the party had some strong connection--whether worshipful or disbelieving--with the deity in question. Like a D&D4E warlord, this character's primary function would be to grant boons to those who pleased him, and banes to the unfaithful. Perhaps most interestingly, this character could be responsible for potential miracles, making for great fodder for those in the party who do not believe.

Idea 2: The Matrix is wireless now

In any gaming system that has some ubiquitous element (like technology in Shadowrun), a character who excels in that element could potentially be physically absent from the party (like Shadowrun's hacker). What if your druid, instead of traveling alongside the party and turning into a bear when needed, instead stayed home and prayed, influencing the very trees to come to the party's aid?

Or perhaps you're running a Dresden-type of game, and one of your players desperately wants to play Bob, the talking skull. This represents a spirit tied to a physical object, which is very similar to a hacker influencing a computer.

Some sort of "feedback damage" can be helpful for this kind of absent player. For instance, a hacker in Shadowrun can be hacked and physically harmed. Similarly, this druid who convenes so closely with the trees might feel their pain, or the bound spirit's home might be destroyed, cutting the spirit off from the party (and potentially trapping it in a dangerous realm!)

Idea 3: I see the Angels, but where's Charlie?

In many ways, Charlie of Charlie's Angels was the perfect NPC--give a mission and get out of the way. But a player could take this idea one step further by running the mysterious billionaire patron of the party.

When new scenes are set up, the patron can attempt to use his resources and influence to set it up in a way that is helpful to the party. Perhaps an ally will be present, or that fruit vendor's stand is a secret cache of weapons where the players can reload.

Moving this to the fantasy realm, one could imagine a wizard who sat in a lavish tower and constantly scried on the party. Rather than throwing fireballs on the field, this wizard's power could come in using magic at great distances to make sure the party always had what they needed.

Have you played a character who isn't always in the game? Tell us about it in the comments!

However, this competes with the egalitarian concept of player balance. RPGs generally try to balance player ability according to the rules of the game, and in most of the games I've played, GMs like this equality to extend to a player's station in life. This becomes a challenge for the Aragorns among us.

Rather than reject the epic hero concept, we can focus on intentionally casting one or more characters in these VIP roles. Here's some tips on doing this successfully.

Get on the same page

It's important that all players--that is, the player in the role, the other players running characters, and the GM understand the ramifications of this.

Imagine Star Wars as a roleplaying game. The Jedi clearly have the power. Think of how much it would suck to play the scoundrel Han Solo unprepared, especially if Luke and Obi Wan were the other people in your party. While they were running up walls and clouding stormtrooper's minds, you'd be stuck saying, "I shoot it with my blaster. Again."

This goes beyond the mechanics--in a story like Star Wars, the action focuses around Luke. Han Solo (and even Obi Wan) necessarily take a back seat to Luke's story. This isn't necessarily a problem--but it is if the players are not expecting it.

Finally, I'll reiterate the fact that the GM is a player, too. It's critical that the GM understands what it means for a player to be of a certain station in life. It's equally essential that the GM give moments to stand in the spotlight to other characters. After all, Han pulls Luke's feet out of the fire on more than one occasion, and Obi Wan's confrontation with Vader is a central scene.

Don't let the VIP dominate

This is one of those "reality vs. fun" situations--it might make sense in the real world that the usurped prince gets to call all the shots, but that generally doesn't make for a fun game.

The first principle here is to give the VIP role to a responsible player. Hopefully, all your players fit this bill--but if you have someone who likes to dominate, they're probably not a good choice for the power role.

You might decide to use some story element to effectively diminish a VIP's power (ideas for this below), or your may simply go all Uncle Ben on your players and remind your VIP that great responsibility (both in game and out) comes with this power.

Make sure the job doesn't belong to an NPC

Is your whole story dependent on your VIP pulling the sword from the stone and becoming king?

Then you, my friend, need an NPC.

The VIP job might certainly be connected to a prophecy, but if it must happen for your story to matter, then it isn't fair to ask a player to fill the role. You can circumvent a lot of problems in your campaign by assigning the role to a prominent NPC rather than a PC who has to jump through your hoops.

Here are some ways that follow the 'Sword in the Stone' example, in a way that could work for a game:

• The boy has already pulled the sword from the stone, but for some reason was banished from the country. Now, he comes to reclaim the throne. (This works because he may or may not be able to reclaim the throne, and no one knows what that looks like.)
• The boy is destined to rule the land, and the legend says that the ruler of the land pulls the sword from the stone. (This works because the PC might circumvent the legend, or prophecy's interpretation could be flexible)
• The opening scene features the boy pulling the sword from the stone, but that's only the beginning of becoming king. (This works because the initiating action leads to further action, and thus more story whose outcome is not yet determined.)

Ideas for diminishing the VIP's power

Here are a handful of story-based ways you can give a player the VIP role without letting them dominate the game.

• The Aragorn Plan: your VIP's status must remain hidden until late in the game.
• The Rebel Scum Plan: your VIP's status is not recognized by the legitimate ruling authority, so she can't dominate society (yet).
• The Snikt Snikt Plan: your VIP is nearly immortal, but his success is dependent on the survival of the team.
• The Shepherd Book Plan: your VIP's moral authority is wielded wisely, lest apparent hypocrisies of the past be thrown against him.
• The Kirk Plan: your VIP is a charismatic leader who has one good kung-fu move, but success of the party relies on the varied skills of others.
• The One Ring Plan: your VIP's status is secondary to an epic plot that requires a non-VIP character to succeed.
• The Who's The Boss Plan: your VIP's station is secondary to another (a king who reports to a ecclesiastical authority, a priest who reports to the divine, etc…) and must be responsible with power, lest it be challenged or removed.

Have you ever played a VIP in a game, or do you have stories of this being done well (or poorly?) Are you a VIP in real life who can't get a break in your games? Tell us about it in the comments!

Just about every role playing game book has a brief section answering the question, "what is an RPG?" However, you're only going to be able to read that if you've already bought the book, in which case you're probably already at least gamer-curious. To everybody else, who might not even know where to find an RPG book, where do you go to learn more?

Maybe you're interested in playing an RPG. Maybe you are a mother whose child has gotten interested in them. Maybe you just heard Wizards of the Coast is putting out another version of Dungeons and Dragons, and you just want to know what the heck that is. I intend this article to answer your questions as much as I can.

A Brief Introduction to RPGs

At its most basic, a role playing game is just one in which you play a character in a story that everyone makes up together. There are a wide variety of games under that umbrella, but they all share that main concept. In this way, RPGs are kind of like cooperative improv theater.

Here are a few other aspects of RPGs that we should cover.

Game Master

While most of the group (the Players) are acting as the main characters (Player Characters or PCs) of the story, there is usually one person running the game. Depending on the game, they might be called a Game Master (GM), Narrator, Storyteller, or Dungeon Master. Her job is to guide the story, keep everybody on track, arbitrate rules and disputes between players, and make sure they're all having fun.

In addition to all that, the GM also often handles all the characters in the story not being handled by the Players. Appropriately enough, these are called Non-Player Characters (NPCs). They could be anybody from the garbage man, to a soldier, to a king, and it's the GM's job to play them all.

Finally, it usually falls to the GM to figure out how the world in general reacts to the players. For instance, if a player wants his character to jump from one roof to another, it's up to the GM to decide whether he makes it. Each game comes with a set of rules (or at least guidelines) for how to handle these questions.

Mechanics

A game's mechanics are how it adjudicates the characters' actions. They'll cover how to figure out what happens when a character tries to jump, fight, fast-talk another character, or just about anything the Player can come up with. Of course, the rules can't cover everything, so it falls to the GM to make a ruling when the Players inevitably go off the beaten path.

Just like even the most elite sports stars don't succeed 100% of the time, however, neither do characters in an RPG. In order to model these uncertainties of life, almost all games involve a random element. This could be cards, or rock-paper-scissors, but by-and-large it's dice.

Story

Finally, most role playing games center around a story. I know I mentioned that above, but I'm repeating it because it's important enough to deserve its own section. Without it, you may as well be playing a strategy game.

Just like with books and movies, the stories in role playing games come in an astounding variety. They can be historic, modern, or sci-fi. They can be comedy, drama, action, or horror. An RPG story could be rich and nuanced, or it could be wafer thin, only enough to justify the action sequences. In the end, an RPG's story is just a story.

Why Play?

This is the bottom line. Why do any of us play RPGs? Why not go see a movie instead?

A role playing game isn't just acting, strategy, and story telling. It's all those things together, plus hanging out with fun people. You get to be on the stage, and in the audience simultaneously. In an RPG, you're part of the story, and nobody knows exactly how it's going to turn out, because you'll change it.

Resources

If you're looking for more information on RPGs in general, you can start over at the Wikipedia RPG page.  If you enjoy audio, the "Fear the Boot" podcast did a great series on the basics of gaming:

1. Introduction
2. What is a RPG?
3. Why Play an RPG?
4. Common Objections
5. Getting Started
6. The Language of RPGs
7. It Takes All Kinds

Of course, we also recommend that you check out other posts on Intwischa.  Some of them might be considered "advanced topics", but we do our best to appeal to all experience levels.  Hopefully our ideas are useful to everybody!

If you're new to role playing games, do you have questions I haven't answered here?  If you're an experienced gamer, do you have something to add?  Let us know in the comments!

Gear

Pros

I'm a Linux guy, myself, but we've definitely noticed that the video chat experience is much better on Mac hardware. Their cameras seem to have better image quality, and the speakers are louder. That said, you could definitely pull this off with any laptop.

One issue we for which we weren't at first prepared was audio volume. Take my word for it, an amplifier is normally the last thing you'd think to provide Bryan. Still, even his theater trained voice has trouble competing with four guys when it's coming out of a little laptop speaker. We've been able to use a set of amplified computer speakers to solve this problem quite effectively.

In order for Bryan to see a map on the table, the laptop monitor to which the camera is attached has to be tilted down. This means that it's difficult for us to see his face. Charlie recently solved this problem brilliantly by hooking up a second monitor behind the laptop. This way, we could see his face on the big monitor, and Bryan could see the map.

Cons

To echo one of Bryan's points, we've had trouble getting him a good view. If we tilt the camera up, he can see some of us, but not the map. If we tilt it down, he gets a map view, but of us he only gets hands, and maybe an intermittent crotch shot. Charlie and I, the resident techies, have been discussing adding another camera to solve this.

As Bryan mentioned, we're currently using Google Talk. It's worked quite well so far. Still, it means we're limited to only having one remote player, since GTalk doesn't yet support conferencing. This will become a problem if we added a "map-cam" or a second remote player. We've discussed using the Google+ Huddle to get around this, but we haven't tried it out yet.

Tweaks

Chief on our current list of potential tweaks is the map-cam. We could also conceivably solve the map issue with networked map software such as RPTools' Map Tool, which would have the advantage of giving remote players more control over the map. Unfortunately, this would have a learning curve, require some setup on the GM side, and likely need some tech support from Charlie or me.

Next, I've had my eye on adding an omnidirectional mic so that Bryan can better hear the whole table. I've also been looking into software such as Webcam Studio that would give us the ability to switch between multiple cameras, in addition to other cool features. Finally, there's the possibility of letting remote players control the camera themselves.

Group

Pros

As Bryan pointed out, playing remotely requires a lot of trust on both sides. It also requires both sides to do something that some gamers find difficult: listen. Bryan has to make sure to listen to us when we're telling him, for instance, of a tactical problem he might not be able to see from his vantage point. The rest of us have to listen carefully when he's talking, so that we don't drown him out, or misunderstand the character actions he's dictating.

Overall, I think we've done a pretty good job here. It's certainly been a learning experience. We've all had to modify our behavior a bit in order to cope with the limitations of this setup.

Cons

Unfortunately, as Ike mentioned in a comment yesterday, being the only remote player places Bryan at a disadvantage. He's completely at the mercy of those physically present for: what he sees, what he hears, and how he interacts with any tangible aspects of the game (maps, puzzles, etc). Even with a video link, he also inevitably misses many of the social cues we take for granted.

Tweaks

Either the Map Tool, or the laptop "robot" above would help by giving a remote player more control. We could also, as Ike suggested, make everybody join in remotely. That, however, doesn't so much give Bryan more control as give the rest of us less. It's also difficult for me, since I have a relatively bad internet connection.

Games

Pros

The ability to include Bryan remotely has been beneficial for our games. In the past, he had to play characters that either faded into the background when he couldn't make it, or that had sort of recurring roles within the story. It meant that he couldn't be a central character, because we couldn't rely on him being present for any giving session. Now, however, he's on more of an equal footing with he rest of the group.

Cons

Finding an appropriate game for this setup will be a challenge. Unless we can get him a better view of the map, Bryan's at a disadvantage tactically. He's also, as I pointed out above, at a social disadvantage. Thus, whether we're playing a tactics-oriented game like D&D 4E, or a social one like Houses of the Blooded, he gets the short end of the stick.

With our recent schedule conflicts, we've had times when some of us could play, but couldn't travel to another's house. We've discussed solving this problem by including more than one of us remotely. However, Matt, who was GMing the game, was reluctant to try this, with the decreased level of social interaction, and I completely understand his objection.

Tweaks

One thing we've discussed doing about this problem is to play a game in which any remote players play remote characters. For instance, in a Shadowrun game, the remote players could be a hacker, rigger, or even some sort of covert operative, interacting with the group using a video chat through the Matrix. This, then, turns the disadvantages of a remote player into added realism.

Bottom Line

With all my talk of disadvantages, I think including Bryan remotely has been a hugely positive experience overall. It's improved our games, let us see our friend more often, and been an interesting learning experience. I was actually surprised at how smoothly it's gone with just a pair of laptops and Google Talk. Eventually, at least for me, the laptop almost disappears. In fact, there have been times in which I've barely stopped myself from handing him something upon remembering that he's not really there.

Coincidentally, the Fear the Boot guys are kicking off their own game in which everybody's playing remotely. I'll be interested in hearing how it goes for them. I'd also be interested in hearing any experiences or suggestions you might have. Let us know in the comments!

THE GEAR

Our setup was fairly simple:  Use a universal video chat service (we've been using Google Chat so far), to link my home computer to a laptop computer at the actual gaming table.  Once that link is running, the laptop's screen shows the other players my face as we game and represents my seat at the table.  At the same time, the laptop's built-in webcam provided me a view of the other players and the tabletop.  My miniature is moved by my fellow players during combat, and any pertinent visual aids can be displayed in front of the camera for better clarity.

PROS:  This initial configuration was very simple to set up and maintain.  It required no additional investment on either end, as both sides of the connection already had computers with webcams, and Google Chat is a free service.  The position of the webcam gave me a direct view of the GM, which would normally be the focus for a player as the story is told.  Finally, this arrangement provided a broad view of the tabletop,  including the battle mat we use for combat encounters.

CONS:  Sound seemed to suffer the most during our first trial.  While placing the laptop directly opposite the GM gave me full view of him, it made it difficult to hear what he was saying since he was at the furthest point on the table from the laptop's microphone.  Likewise, I had difficulty hearing some of the character dialogue if another player had to turn his head to speak to the GM.  The 'worm's eye' angle of the camera made it difficult to make out details on the maps being drawn on the battle mat as well.  While the other players would move the laptop over the combat so I could see during my turn, it made it difficult to interact effectively because I was more or less blind until my action came up.

TWEAKS:  We toyed with several ideas after the first trial; however, many of them involved increased spending or more complicated setups.  Discussion on the technical side included patching in a second 'bird's eye' camera so that I had a constant view of the battle mat and linking in an external microphone strictly for the GM narration.  However, we found pretty marked improvement in the above hurdles by using a different laptop with a slightly larger webcam lens and moving said laptop next to the GM instead.  That way, I could always hear what the other players heard as it related to the storytelling, and I had a better perspective on the maps he drew and visual aides he offered because I saw them first as he produced them.  The setup isn't perfect yet, and I suspect you'll hear more about it from the GM/actual players' points of view later, but we've reached a pretty workable balance right now, and have done so without sacrificing simplicity or more money.  That's a win in my book.

THE GROUP

PROS:  Playing a game with someone who isn't physically present at the table, or even in the same area code, demonstrates a great deal of trust within a gaming group.  I've learned an increased faith in my fellow players by having them move my character around the combat, and relying on their primary interaction with the story to represent the best interests of our party.  As they are in direct proximity to the GM, their actions & dialogue frequently take center stage; however, they always make a faithful effort to include me not only in conversations and actions, but jokes and plots too.

In a similar vein, it's important to note that my webcam is focused on a 'portrait view' of myself while I'm gaming.  This means that no one but me can see what I roll when dice are thrown on my end; no external webcam follows that D20 to show the GM the results.  This requires not only a trustful game master, but also a GM who is generous enough to give up some measure of control.  Not all GMs would allow a player to roll behind a book, or count a die that's hit the floor.  I'm lucky that both Matt and Charlie have been charitable in their GM duties, and will allow results in a game over which they have very little supervision.

Lastly, on a strongly personal note, being tied in remotely makes me pay full attention to the dialogue, actions, details, and characters on the screen.  When you're in the same room, sitting next to other players, it's easier to catch up on something you may have missed while sending a text, reading a book, or making the spare minis fight to the death.  Much like seeing a movie in the theater, however, as a Virtual Gamer I don't want to miss something that would give me a richer understanding of the story at hand.  If I'm not giving the game my full focus then I"m liable to lose out on the complete role-playing experience.

CONS:  While the increased trust in my gaming companions is a wonderful thing, it is really necessitated by the lack of direct communication between myself and the other characters/game master.  My end of the conversation lacks any dynamics as it is broadcast halfway across the state; if my voice comes out of the laptop's speaker at the table, the rest of the group has to decipher who I was talking to and why.  Was I adding to a joke that was passing around the players?  Was I asking about the nature of a certain NPC?  Or was I just announcing a bathroom break?  I can't plot quietly with another player, or whisper a creative course of action to the GM for his approval.  At times it feels like I'm on the other end of a role-playing radio, and the group has to turn up the dial for me to get heard.

This first phenomenon contributes directly to a second: the distinct lack of social context or cues between myself and my fellow adventurers.  While the group that is physically present at the table can watch the facial expressions, body language, and vocal inflections of the rest of the party, I'm watching their hands and the battle mat due to the position of the laptop's webcam.  You don't realize just how dependent on social and interpersonal interaction gaming is until you can't experience it.  Just the slightest loss in this person-to-person contact gives the Virtual Gamer a proportionate level of detachment from the group, and makes it more difficult to stay engaged in the 'team' mentality.

TWEAKS:  Unfortunately, I think the pitfalls inherent in this remote involvement are, as they say, the nature of the beast.  Short of in-ear monitors and headset microphones to wire each individual for sound, I'm not going to be able to increase my ability to communicate directly with the group.  One adjustment I've made over the few experimental sessions is to engage in an economy of words, so that the group doesn't have to track as much chatter on my end.  This way, they know to react to my voice coming out of the speaker because it most likely will have some bearing on the game, or at least my character.  Those of you who know me personally will understand just how monumental such efforts must be.  So far, however, it's been paying off.

THE GAMES

PROS:  Let's cut right to the chase here.  This 'pro' overrides anything else I may present in this article:  The Virtual Gamer experiment actually allows me to game with a group that I truly value participating in.  While it has taken some measure of patience and planning all around, I've gone from playing with my friends in five or six sessions a year to almost weekly attendance in our campaigns.  There is no downside to that.

That increased frequency has also allowed us to try new game systems and concepts using the Virtual Gamer setup.  We don't have to feel compelled to commit to a particular campaign when we know we're not necessarily gaming against a clock- or a calendar, to be more precise.  If we were only fully assembled six times a year, the pressure to push a campaign forward during those sessions might start to feel pretty intense.  With the limited financial cost and time commitment of a Virtual Gamer session, we can test drive things that sound interesting and determine if we want to devote more sessions to them in the future.

A somewhat selfish benefit to me being tied in remotely is that I have a lot more space to play than if I were one of many at a table.  I can spread out my character sheet and campaign notes, my rule books, and any other gaming materials all over my desk because I won't be in any one's way.  That also leads directly to better-informed gaming on my part because I can track all the data and rules I may need to succeed as a PC without having to spend extra time digging it out.  Rather than thumbing through a stack of books, I can leave that players' manual open to the exact page I'll need when my turn comes around.

CONS:  I've addressed some of the role-playing difficulties that have emerged from my remote inclusion in these sessions in the Group entry above.  From an actual game point of view, the biggest drawback I've noticed is that we seem to have chosen the wrong campaigns to run when the Virtual Gamer has a limited view of the table.  Please note:  This is not to say that these are not good campaigns, or that I'm not enjoying them immensely.  It's simply a matter of mechanics that are only present because I am not.

Our current Pathfinder campaign has a great story, detailed setting, and interesting characters.  It's also laid out as a classic dungeon delve, as our party descends ever deeper into an ancient tomb to recover a powerful artifact.  Such a campaign forces the players to rely heavily on the layout of the 'dungeon', or in this case, the dusty subterranean catacombs we're fighting through.  However, the only way to fully comprehend the layout is to watch the map that the GM has meticulously drawn out on the battle mat.  Matt has always done a wonderful job of putting it all together, and making sure I see it when he's through.  After that, though, the only way I can be consistently involved in navigating this maze is if someone stands holding the laptop over the table so I have a full view of the map as we travel through it.  While I mentioned earlier that an external 'bird's eye' webcam might solve this issue, this issue strikes me as unique to this style of quest.

Recently, we played a one-shot adventure called Crucible of the Gods using D&D 4th Edition characters.  Set in an ancient Meso-American jungle, our characters were called on to run the gauntlet through a mystical ziggurat to stave off a coming apocalypse.  (Apparently all our characters have a recurring death wish!)  Hearkening back to the origins of D&D, this 'Fourthcore' adventure was laden with traps, puzzles, and secrets.  Normally I would revel in these types of cerebral challenges, and our group is certainly a clever bunch.  However, I felt somewhat helpless during this adventure because I didn't have the physical evidence in front of me that was needed to find a solution.  The vital clues either had to be read to me, or held up to the camera for me to transcribe.  Imagine that you're watching someone else on a TV screen who's holding a Rubik's Cube, and you have to aid them in solving it by giving them instructions through a microphone.  I'm not claiming that I would've solved the puzzles had I been in the room, but I do feel like my odds would've gone up quite a bit.

TWEAKS:  It seems like the only way to jump the hurdles above would be to plan campaigns with the limitations of the Virtual Gamer in mind.  That said, I'd never ask my friends to do so.  Not only does it limit their creative options during our adventures,it would place an unfair burden on the majority of the group,who have already gone out of their way to make my involvement easier- or even possible.  While we may find that some systems are more conducive to the Virtual Gamer experiment than others, I wouldn't want to sacrifice a system we may truly enjoy on the altar of expedience.  I'd rather just log in, join up, and roll the dice.  The experience is always worth it.

Has your group tried a similar setup to (graciously) include an absent member of your party?  Look for future posts here at Intwischa from the other participants in our experiment, but in the mean time please share your own ideas in the Comments!

http://slamdancr.com/wp/2011/08/c1-crucible-of-the-gods/

Despite my whiny tone, the purpose of this article is not to bury the BBEG, but to praise him. (Or her!) Indeed, the BBEG provides a convenient focusing means for Rick Warren-influenced "purpose-driven gamers."

There is one flaw of the BBEG. He often surrounds himself with henchmen, and in the games I play, a couple henchmen always seem to outlive the boss-man himself. Here are a few house-rules that can help overcome this syndrome.

Rule 1: Player's Challenge

When a player delivers what would otherwise be the killing blow to a BBEG and a mook still stands, the player can announce he is going to take a player's challenge and continue the combat. When the challenge is delivered, the attack delivered by the player is treated as if it missed, and the player gets a benefit of his choice from the following list:

• De-facto Action Point [For D&D 4e]: The attack misses, but the player is treated as if had just spent an action point. This does not grant the extra action, but does activate any side benefits of the action point.
• Inspiring Strike:  An unconscious ally is stirred by the heroic goings-on about him, and regains consciousness at 1/4 health
• Sundering Blow: The BBEG uses an item on his person to block the attack, and the attack destroys that item. The item is the GM's choice, and should be a significant item that would be an appropriate power level for the attacking character.
• Catching the Bullet: A mook within diving range of either the attacker or the BBEG takes the hit instead of the bad guy.

Rule 2: GM's Challenge

The GM is also motivated to keep the BBEG alive, if only to keep a good story going. This rule allows the GM to keep the BBEG going for just a few more turns. This rule should ONLY be used when both the GM and players have agreed to use it ahead of time!

When the GM's challenge is invoked and the BBEG takes a blow that would otherwise kill her, she has a few options:

• Grab the Mook: If the BBEG is within arms' reach of a minion, she may grab that creature and act as if it had taken the blow instead of her. (This should influence strategy: when the BBEG is running low on health, she should start moving to her minions--or calling them to her!)
• Pre-emptive Retreat: The BBEG has planned for the attack, and as it is being delivered, she makes a move for the nearest exit. She must move as directly as possible to the most reasonable exit, and is allowed to move unmolested (D&D fans: no attacks of opportunity) at twice her usual speed. However, she must skip her next turn.
• Power Sacrifice: Instead of taking the damage from a blow, the BBEG sacrifices her most potent power. This power must be usable--no fair giving up an expended daily power!--but it can be a recharge-type power that has not yet recharged (such as D&D 3.5 dragon's breath)

Hopefully, these rules can make your climactic fights more climactic! If you use these rules, let us know how it goes in the comments.