Eero Tuovinen Is My Hero (Part II)

Here's another great quote from Eero Tuovinen (lifted from the discussion Old School Renaissance: Actual Play - Greysands Campaign). It's good advice if you are making mistakes like this.

Regarding the hygiene in determining whether things are dangers or tourist sights, my general advice is to train yourself out of the habit of teleological deduction and categories associated with it: don't frame decisions for yourself in terms of what will supposedly happen. As long as you're thinking of a sea serpent in terms of whether it's a combat encounter or not, you're not being hygienic. The only things you need to know are the in-fiction circumstances and such; those you either intuit, have in your notes, or roll randomly. Once you know that the sea serpent hates surface shipping, or is hungry, or is angry, you have something to work with in determining whether it might attack a ship. If you first decide that it's a color encounter, and then retroactively justify that by deciding that it's sated, then you're doing it wrong.

"Colour event", "tourist sighting", "combat encounter", "deadly" and so on are all terms of unhygienic teleological thinking: they're all about what you imagine might happen either immediately or later. You do not need to know the future, you merely need to know the past and the present.

Eero is even sterner regarding another event in that game (a storm that was never meant to be a real threat).

Edit: The DM running the sea voyage has since commented that the storm had been dangerous, but not able to single-handedly sink the ship (unless the party had done nothing to fix the situation).

This is less relevant for my example of poor DMing (which was about laziness, not mercy) but relevant to the overall topic:

The big, fat hygienic issue with not wanting PC death, though, is that a GM unwilling to face the nihilistic void is a slave to his aesthetic hopes and dreams. In the worst case this causes him to build invisible boundaries around the other players, protecting them from an honest judgement of their choices. Thus the content of play actually transforms from an even-handed struggle into puppetry. For example: when you demand players for initiative in a storm that threatens their ship, and they act upon the matter, but your threat was actually a false ritualistic declaration - what is that if not puppeteering, demanding that the players dance to your amusement? Worse yet, such a GM might end up determining the shape of their ship on nothing more than their own sense of entitlement: dance not well enough my puppets, show not enough fear, and I shall sink your ship out of spite. As you choose to not entertain the possibility of the ship sinking fairly, you have at that moment removed any storm-combating moves out of the realm of actual play, and into the realm of color narration. The least courtesy a GM can make is to make this clear to the players, so they can join in narrating, rather than dancing desperately in their false understanding of the interaction in play. 

Actual Play: Improvisation Done Wrong

A recent session of DCC in the Wilderlands has prompted a number of thoughts on the role of the DM (at least as I see it in the context of old school play):

Actual Play Analysis

A random encounter roll provided the result "chalk marks". I liberally interpreted this and decided to make a tableau of chalk representations of the party appear practically under their noses (i.e. in a corridor they had just passed through and were presently returning to).

The party's ranger decided to search for tracks (which takes a turn and thus increases the risk of random encounters). I decided that the chalk marks had been made by a ghost and that he could not find any tracks.

This was a bad decision because my motivation was to get on with the game, i.e. I was not interested in the chalk marks except as a minor distraction to create a spooky atmosphere.

However, it's the players' job to decide which things to investigate, not mine. Moreover, I should not create illusions but run the world -- I should have impartially determined what caused the marks in the first place (using my intution regarding the world and/or the dice).

(In my defence, I was prepared to stand by my decision and, for example, reveal the ghost to a detect magic spell (recently acquired by the party's witch).)

Next, the party decided to modify their representations: A recently killed dog puppy was part of the tableau and depicted as crossed out. The party carefully removed the cross. I rolled a d6, deciding to have the puppy's corpse rise on a 6 as per animate dead (a power I would then have to attribute to the ghost). Nothing happened.

This was an even worse decision because I acted on the players' speculations (i.e. on a 6, they would have come true). This procedure is remniscient of the RPG Donjon by Clinton R. Nixon. In Donjon, a successful check to detect secret doors means that you do indeed find a secret door (i.e. it is invented on the spot and incorporated into the fiction if it was not there before). Donjon is cool, but a very different kind of game than the old school D&D I'm striving for.

The players should feel free to openly speculate about the world or discuss their plans -- without fear of the DM making their fears (or hopes) come true or preempting (or facilitating) their plans.

(At least I rolled a d6 so things did not rely on DM whim alone.)

*-*-*

A note on the nature of random content

Random content is neither arbitrary nor unimportant:

Random encounter tables, for instance, are carefully constructed to reflect the environment. The Barrowmaze features different tables for different sections or different times of the day and my wilderness encounter tables likewise cover different geographical areas.

A random encounter with other tomb raiders should be treated as just as real and important as other stuff. A random roll creates a part of the world that both players and DM can refer back to. Further rolls and/or impartial DM improvisation should flesh out the details as needed.

*-*-*

I failed to take my own roll seriously in the situation described above, deciding it was merely "color" (i.e. window dressing). Eero Tuovinen has more to say about this -- please check out my next post.

Campaign Diary: DCC in the Wilderlands (Session 6)

Session 6: Traps & Treasure

During downtime, one PC tames a wolf and another arranges a marriage for the village crone. Also, the party is invited by Hirot's ruler for a chat. Back in the Barrowmaze, the party discovers a heavily trapped cul-de-sac with a mysterious key in a silver casket. Careful maneuvering neutralizes all threats. Later, they find the richly decorated remains of a beastman recently sacrificed on a dark altar...

Observations

• CD notes that wandering monsters rarely carry any treasure.
• KT styles his rogue as a ranger (with skills like Survial, Stealth and Beast Mastery and a tame wolf).
• A random encounter indicates a graffiti and leads to a lot of soul searching for the DM. More about this when I find the time to sort my thoughts.

A nice session. The players expertly navigated the cul-de-sac situation.

Eero Tuovinen Is My Hero (Part I)

Eero Tuovinen writes very eloquently and with great insight about playing D&D. He is currently discussing his approach and an ongoing IRC game at the Story Games forums here: Writing up Eero's Primordial D&D and here: Old School Renaissance: Actual Play - Greysands Campaign.

Here are some nice quotes (emphasis mine):

I am admittedly beyond hardcore on [the matter of low-level lethality]. I entertain myself thinking up ways to make the D&D support even more meaningless lethality. I find that the constant, nihilistic existential pressure focuses minds wonderfully, and makes the occasional streak of success taste all the more sweet. I simply don't have any interest for facilitating the survival of this particular character any further than his choices, talents and luck take him.

I basically just don't take a D&D GM seriously before they've killed a few PCs. We can talk about it all we like, but until I see them do it, it's all insubstantial theory - maybe their characters have just been skilled and lucky, but also maybe the GM is misusing their wide influence to undermine the supposed dangers. (The D&D GM has such a multitude of influences that it's almost impossible to get a legit game if the GM doesn't want one.) Not that I want my character to die when playing, it's just that I want a legit resolution even more. The only difference between a gauntlet by fire and a puppet theater is in whether there actually is a legitimate possibility of failure.

I should say that while it is possible to make things "too difficult", my experience is that GMs generally vastly underestimate the level to which players are willing to rise. The thing is, if you've already decided that the PCs shall, by and large, live and prosper, then you've already made it impossible for the group to find out how high you can go on the difficulty before the players give up. They'll never have the chance to encounter the setting in all of its true brutality if you as GM shirk away from it. You have to be brave first, or the players never get the chance to be.

Campaign Diary: DCC in the Wilderlands (Session 5)

Session 5: Victory!

The party encounters another group of tomb raiders in the Barrowmaze. They manage to steal their clueless rivals' gold but then help them against a skeleton attack. The party's two new dwarf characters sniff out some gems and the party returns to the surface, fighting a series of small battles (with giant rats, mysterious skeletons and a lone skeleton, respectively). For the first time, they return from their adventures without casualties. Three PCs reach level 2.

Observations

• KT had studied the combat rules and led the way setting up flanking positions, using Luck and reminding other players of their characters' special powers. 
• When KT began to describe his new character at the beginning of the session, cries of "One line of background only!" erupted. KT, known for writing pages and pages of backstory, continued unperturbed -- he is used to friendly ribbing in this matter.
• Players got more cocky with 1st level characters, particularly ones with poor stats.
• The way back to the exit was again a tense affair but also took up quite a bit of time. I wonder if we should double the movement rate in known and mapped territory...
• The players were very pleased with their success (and rightly so, I might add).
• I keep 'revealing' rules from D&D 3.5e that are second nature to me but which I never bothered explaining. This is a bit irritating to the players but I'm not sure if a huge infodump at the beginning would have been better. Ask me about charging enemies, for instance, and you shall be rewarded!

In a nutshell
A very satisfying session - the characters' success nicely counterbalances the bloodbaths behind (and most likely ahead of) them!

Planet Algol's DM Credo

I'm slowly working my way through the backlog of the excellent Planet Algol blog. Given my recent self-doubts concerning my bloodthirsty DMing style I find the following quote from this post very reassuring.

Believe me, when I'm DMing I'm a combination of Nethack, Captain Bligh, Larry David and Kali. I revel in mayhem, confusion, and horrendous death. But I don't do it to be a jerk or fuck over players; I do it because I love my players and I love my game, and have too much respect for both of them to play kindergarten softball. This isn't World of Warcraft, this isn't T-ball, this isn't Chutes and Ladders; this is Dungeons and fucking Dragons, so you damn well better hustle and sweat and think and pay attention in order to keep your character's head above water blood.

(Blair on Planet Algol)

Amen to that.


(I had to look up half the references - Larry Who? - but I got the vibe straight away.)

Campaign Diary: DCC in the Wilderlands (Session 4)

Session 4: Level-up!

Summary

The party scares off a rival band of tomb robbers and later vanquishes its most dangerous foe so far: a giant rattlesnake. Two PCs fall to its poisonous bite and one more perishes as the party is surprised by stirges while looting the snake's rich hoard of gems. Ladden with treasure and snakeskin, the party makes its way back to Hirot. The longest-serving PC attains level 2 and three others are within 100 XP of level 2 as well. Also, the first dwarf character joins the party.

Observations

• KT can't get over D&D's (Labyrinth Lord's, really) often ridiculous prices. I guess we'll switch to Adventurer, Conquerer, King System. I hope ACKS will appease him (and lay the groundwork for the domain game).
• Several players tried to handwave logistics ("My new guy, who you meet in the dungeon, brought a ladder.", "We're establishing a depot in this room. Can we just say we've moved all the stuff on my shopping list down here?"). I grant them some leeway (i.e. the ladder) but I'm mostly insisting on proper procedure. High Encumbrance = Low Speed = Many Encounters = High Risk!
• Speaking of which: Logistics and encumbrance are more work than I anticipated: We're using the brilliant encumbrance system of Lamentations of the Flame Princess but there are so many characters and especially recently deceased characters that inventories need to be redistributed frequently.
• GB measures the dungeon doors to commission custom contraptions to block them. Adapt or die.
• New PCs are introduced during the big fight. As a result, we didn't even bother with physical descriptions - the newcomers (four level 0 guys and a dwarf) are faceless cannon fodder at this point. We might want to slow down here a bit.
• The rattlesnake's poison is lethal, but not immediately so. HM suggests brutally treating a victim right away, amputating if necessary. I improvise a harsh procedure, but the victim dies anyway. I'm not 100% happy with the specifics of my procedure but I do not want to stifle player creativity or slow down the game too much. HM's approach sounds reasonable so there should be a chance it works.
• HM's rogue harvests the rattlesnake's poison. I use a different procedure than last time.  Gotta have more continuity.
• It's exciting - and a little daunting - how fast the rulings pile up (harvesting poison, emergency amputations etc.). Once the players are more familiar with the rules - they are mostly new to D&D and its retroclones -, I plan to get their input on the specifics.
• DMing is more strenuous than I'm used to. I'm looking up all sorts of tables and using proper procedure to be impartial. This takes time more time than just handwaving things or making gut decisions all the time. 
• On the flip side, prep time is way down. I need about 15 min to prep a session (mostly restocking the dungeon).
• I'm afraid I do have a sadistic streak (What a surprise, given the blog's name, eh?). During the big fight, I revelled in describing all the gore and even cracked some rather cruel jokes at the beleaguered players' expense (<points at battlemat> "So that's where you're moving to die?" etc.). I feel a bit ashamed of myself (Sorry, GB! I'm glad your fighter made level 2!). I hope my bloodthirst is balanced out by utter impartiality.
• KT points out that CD has lost eight (six?) characters so far. Wow. CD is taking it well and has remained one of the most proactive players throughout.
• HM remarks that he found the session "very satisfying" - and adds "... but that's probably because my guy survived."
• Rolling for random encounters on the way back was very tense.

In a nutshell (and from this DM's point of view, I might add)
An immensly satsifying session with lots of suspense, near-death, death and hard-earned victory. I love this shit!