Simple made Easy - Roleplaying that Thick-Headed Fighter

This time - a special treat: this post was written by Ben Haker, a friend and a member of my current D&D 4th Edition group.

I asked the guys to step forward and write something about D&D, the group or the campaign, and Ben came up with this post. Honestly - I got more than I bargained for. Here's why:

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Sometimes, playing a simple-minded character can be difficult.

If you think about it, playing the typical "Thick-Headed Fighter" can be very difficult. Unless you just wing it, playing a "dumb" fighter can be more difficult than playing the scholarly Wizard, the sharp-minded Cleric or the quick-thinking (and acting) Rogue.
Why? because we, RPG players, are anything but simple-minded (the DM in the back, I can hear you laughing).
There are three main reasons that make the task of playing such a character nontrivial: The player, The Group and The DM.

The Player

Playing a character with low mental attributes is challenging, as opposed to playing a character with low physical attributes. Low physical attributes (Strength, Constitution & Dexterity) are simply reflected in the character's statistics. Your fighter can either lift the rock above his head, or he can't. He can either run 20 miles without sweating, or he can't. End of story.

Low mental attributes are more problematic to role-play properly. We usually don't play down our characters. We are used to think of them as heroes, able to do things that we are not able to. This is part of the 'fantasy' in a fantasy role-playing game. They can cast spells, swordplay all day and slay dragons. We, except for a few gifted players - myself included, are not able to do all of these. But we can think. 

Playing down our natural intelligence and cognitive capabilities does not come naturally to us. Sitting around the table, looking at a puzzle the group is struggling with, knowing the answer and keeping quiet is hard and, let's face it, not very rewarding. You need to go against your natural instincts and stay quiet (or describe your fighter scratching his head for 30 minutes) in many encounters that require cognitive abilities, or social interactions that your character will probably blunder. This does not mean that you do not have great role-play opportunities in these encounters, but they are counter-intuitive and sometimes destructive. Fooling yourself in-front of a Lord may be problematic and reflect badly on the group. You can do it a limited number of time before your friends start moving in their seats uncomfortably.

The Group

Last time the group I was playing with went to read and research in a library. I, playing the simple-minded fighter, got bored and went to look for a promiscuous serving girl. The effect was that I was excluded from the "action" in the library (the group acquired some valuable information there) and from the decision making that followed after acquiring the information as it took place in the library. I was faced with the fact that the group decided upon a course of action without talking to my fighter (who was, at that time, having a great time - high Constitution and all).

So, when playing a simple-minded character we need to take into account the following:

1. The character (and therefore, you as a player) might be excluded from encounters requiring mental abilities, as your character does not have much to contribute. This is not a bad thing on its own, but in many cases you will also be excluded from the decision making that follows, unless you meta-game and contribute your opinion even if your character is not present/have nothing useful to say. That is a problem as you may have a lot to contribute as a player, even if your character simply cannot contribute a thing. This may drive your character to a semi-NCP position or may drive your character to a continues conflict with the group, as their decisions seem out of context or plain wrong to your character.
2. You, as a player, might be considered a "bad role-player". During encounters that require some character thinking, your character have to "fade to grey", or contribute little. After all, what does the thick-headed fighter have to say in a room full or wizards debating the results of the summoning ritual the heroes payed for? And if your character does say something, you might be forced to have your character say things that are purposely off the point. Not a lot of players can appreciate that and give your credit as a good role-player.

The DM

As it turns out, the DM is both the solution and the biggest challenge to overcome. 

It all comes down to the question of the DM's ability to "get" what you are doing and publicly commend you.

A lot of DMs hand out additional rewards for good role playing. If your DM awards your un-traditional role-playing, it sends a certain message to the other players. But in most cases, a DM that sees your character break away to do things "out of boredom" will see your way of role-playing as shallow, obtrusive and problematic. 

Such behavior, if not properly explained beforehand, might cause the DM to think YOU are bored as a player, and the way to a collision course is guaranteed. Always keep in mind that the DM is human too. He probably worked hard to build and design an encounter or an episode involving thinking that your fighter ignored or "broke" in away. He may be offended not understanding your behavior. Some DM's might even punish such behavior, or (if they plainly ignore it and not recognize your way of role-playing for what it truly is) might miss the opportunity to provide appropriate encounters for you in which to excel (other than combat).

So what can we do to make playing a simple character an easy task?

In my opinion, the best way to avoid all these issues is to talk about them before the games starts with the DM and the other players. 

Explain what kind of character you are going to play to your DM and group members. Tell them that it is not easy to play a simple-minded character, and tell them how hard it is to play against your basic instincts - especially at the areas in which we, as players, feel secure and capable. 

Ask your DM for support (by providing role-playing opportunities and by recognizing these moments you "drift" to role-play your character), and work with the other players to ensure they understand why you are playing your character the way you are, and encourage them to role-play their characters' response to that thick-headed fighter of yours, instead of rolling their eyes in disdain, or worse, totally ignoring your efforts.

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So, it turns out that asking your players to say something about D&D, the group or the campaign might result in getting exactly what you asked for...

Roll those 20's!
  

Playing the King

Every role-playing campaign comes to the point in which the player-characters meet "the king".

In D&D, the adventurers might answer the call of a powerful lord looking for some mercenaries. In Dark Heresy, the Inquisition might send the acolytes to investigate a murder that took place in a creepy space-station owned by a wealthy merchant. In Eclipse Phase, Firewall Agents might stumble upon a still active AI in its hidden virtual-reality hub.

Depending on the intensions of the players and the Game Master, the encounter can be comprised of a simple exchange of words, or blow into a full-scale combat scenario - swords/guns/plasma rifles blazing and all.

One of the toughest parts (at least in my experience) of running these encounters is "playing the king". Namely, playing that powerful individual the characters are interacting with. Think about it: in most role-playing games, the heroes (the player-characters) are powerful individuals, most often more resourceful and, well, important, than the high-ranking non-player character they are interacting with.

Classic D&D adventures (such as the well-known King's Festival) have the player-characters act as heroes, otherwise someone suffers (in this case, the town's people due to the possible cancellation of the festival).

But in a more "mature" gaming environment, such noble-causes are often smiled upon, and considered naive. Sure, it's fun to rescue the princess from the claws of the dragon - when I'm playing with my kids. But when I'm playing with my friends, the campaign's story is more about shades of grey, and less about obvious, black-or-white motives and goals.

So when I arrange for the player-characters to meet the "King", I often see a much different approach to the encounter than that taken by my kids (or by a younger me as a player).

For me as a young D&D player, meeting the king was meeting someone so much powerful than my character, wealthy and worth of my highest respect. But as a more mature gamer, you treat that same king somewhat differently, since there is always the question of sheer power.

Statistically speaking, if a mid-level, well-armed group of adventurers decides to act funny and draw steel in the king's court, there is a good chance (unless the Game Master stomps the so-called heroes with his god-like foot) that the king ends up with a blade at his royal throat. This is especially true in D&D, where a well-placed spell or a sneak-attack can end a battle before it began.

Obviously, the Game Master can wave his hands and make this problem go away by making the king more powerful than the heroes (a difficult task in D&D 4th Edition, see Epic Characters for more details), but such an approach is problematic in my opinion. If all the "powerful" individuals dealing with the player-characters are more powerful mechanically (rule-wise) than the heroes, why do they need the heroes?

The opposite approach - to accept things as they are and let the heroes be more powerful (in terms of resourcefulness, wealth, magical power or combat prowess) - can lead to players feeling that these powerful individuals they are dealing with are buffoons.

The way to solve these issues came from an unexpected direction: Chess. My son was recently taught the rules of the game by a relative, and I had to learn them myself so we can play together.

In chess, every tool have a specific mode of movement across the board. The goal of the game is to corner the king in a way that every movement ends with the king being captured. I totally expected the king to be the "best piece on the board", but it turns out that it's not.

The king, while being the most important piece, is usually the weakest piece until a later phase (the endgame). All other pieces are used to guard the king, and manoeuvre to capture the opposite side's king.

It occurred to me that in D&D, kings should be treated the same. Mechanically, kings should not be the most powerful characters around. Mechanically, even a low level player-character might be a threat to a king. But the king should be surrounded with people (non-player or even player characters) that need his safety guaranteed. As in Chess, the king should seek safety behind friendly pawns, taking an active role only to help other "pieces" achieve their (and his) goals.

This way, a king should have the protection of wizards, knights, priests, merchants, diplomats, assassin guilds, inquisitors and even loyal servants and cooks (after all, the kings eats what the cooks prepares). There should be layers upon layers of protection, some obvious (such as the armoured knights standing beside the throne) and some subtle (such as the trained assassin posing as a manservant, or the invisible wizard lurking around when the king accepts guests).

Even if there are no "mechanical" layers of protection in the form of mechanically powerful individuals guarding the king, there should be contextual layers of protection such as player-characters (or non-player characters) with something to lose if the king dies/loses face, or whole organizations built on top the king's influence - organizations that will not stop until the individuals responsible for the loss of their source of power are caught and taught a lesson.

While it's possible to peel all these layers and "capture" the king - the way to do so should not be easy, unless someone makes a dire mistake. This keeps things fair, and can help a DM to give a plausible explanation for an unlikely event. But more often than not, the players need to feel that the meeting with such a "king" is a special event, full of intrigue, opportunity, and danger - some obvious, some not...

"Welcome, adventurers." Said the King. "Word of your deeds reached my ears, and I would require your services in investigating a delicate matter - the recent assassination of my court wizard."
"Surly your majesty have resources far beyond ours," Smiled Aladon, looking back at this group of fellow adventurers. "Why would you require our services, which are, ahm...so expensive?"
"My resources are indeed far beyond your own." replied the king with a smile of his own. "Using my resources, I found out that the Laughing Death Cabal is involved. Too dirty of a business for a diplomat like me, but hopefully not below your standards, yes?"
Aladon cursed under his breath, but kept smiling. His fellow adventurers gulped. Gold seemed a lowly prize for dealing with the Cabal and their flesh-eating assassins...but helping the king in this might prove fruitful, and backing off now will make Aladon and his fellow adventurers the joke of the court...
Damn the lord who arranged this meeting, thought Aladon. Reward worthy of kings, the lord said, but Aladon felt that this whole charade was orchestrated - leading them all straight into a trap. But why, and most importantly, who...?



photo credit: loco's photos via photopin cc

Dialogue

"You push the heavy, wooden door and it opens slowly, hinges screaming into the silence of the dark corridors around you."
"Great," says Adam, looking at Chris who plays the impatient Fighter. "I told you we should check the door before opening it. My Thief would have noticed the rusty hinges!"
"What's the matter?" replies Chris with a smile, "afraid from the dark?"
(The players look at the Dungeon Master, who rolls some dice behind his DM's screen)
"The echoes of the hinges shriek slowly fade away. The chamber behind the door is dark."
"I push my way forward, and use my torch to light up the room," says Ron, who play the Cleric. "What do I see?"
"The room is filled with old crates covered with dust. The air is dry and cold. A pile of rags rests on one of the crates."

Sounds familiar? How many similar scenes you have played throughout your gaming career? Dozens? Hundreds?

99% of what we do around the table is all about Dialog. We speak. We describe our characters actions. We ask the DM questions. We debate rules, options and tactics. We role-play, we argue, we socialize.

Think about your last session. How much of the dialog was between one player and the DM? How much of it was between one player and another? In my humble opinion, almost all dialog around the table (game related, that is) is between one or two players and the DM. I can count on one hand the number of player vs player moments per session I had throughout my entire DMing career. And I had (and still have!) some great players around my tables throughout the years.

Why is that so? Well, most players assume that the DM, being the one running the game, has all the answers. Even if the DM is running a pre-make module published for one official setting or the other, he still have absolute control of the happenings, so it's only logical to direct all questions to him. Moreover, the DM is the guy playing all the NPCs, so if an NPC comes and presents himself, it's only logical for the players to engage with him - and the DM, as a result.

This way, players go through whole sessions ping-ponging with the DM, with only occasional breaks to discuss something with their fellow players.

What a waste!

Players drive the story, not the DM. It's something I repeatedly say to every group I run games for, and with good reason. The collective mind of 6 people (5 players and a DM) can blow away anything a single DM can do. Think about it - a game run by the DM is railroaded by definition. The DM makes the calls, the DM decides where the story goes. Players make choices, no doubt, but at the end, it's the DM who orchestrate the story, making the game a series of "left or right" decisions in a scripted story.

As I said - a waste.

As I wrote in my last Campaign Workshop post, I ask my players to write backgrounds for their characters, and then I use it to create the story of the campaign. But how can these backgrounds come to life unless the players talk to each other? If the players don't share with one another bits of their backgrounds during the course of the campaign, when these backgrounds come to life in the form of events or NPCs, no-one other than the background writer have any idea what's going on, and it's a waste, because that moment is a private moment between the player and the DM.

I believe that any role-playing game can benefit from scenes in which characters engage in a dialog that excludes the DM. One can start it, the others can follow if they like and make their characters come to life within the story. It doesn't need to be an award-winning, actor's studio moment full of emotion and Shakespeare-like prose. Two or three sentences between several characters is all it takes, and it might lead to interesting scenes and "ah-ha" moments later on during the campaign.

Think about the following example:

After a gruesome fight with Gnolls, the players hear Chris (playing the Fighter) describe how he wipes the blade clean on one of the corpses with a nasty smile.

If you were a player in that group, how would you respond? Would you ignore that role-playing opportunity, or would you "pick up the glove" and say something like "You really enjoy it, do you? Where on earth do they teach the love of war?"


photo credit: Sharon Drummond via photopin cc

Campaign Workshop - Character Background

In the last Campaign Workshop post, I discussed a useful mechanism to kick-start your campaign building process.

Once you have the campaign slogan, it's time to start developing the campaign theme and story. Since Roleplaying Games are all about fun, and the definition of fun is different for different people, it's time to talk to the players and get their idea of what's fun and entertaining. The rule is simple:

Engaged players => Great game sessions.

At this point, all you have is a slogan and a half-baked idea of the campaign overall story. If you jump into the campaign development process (creating a full-blown story, detailing locations and NPC, thinking about sub-plots, power-groups, and all the other cool stuff we DMs drool on), you might end-up with a campaign that nobody wants to play. You might spend a lot of time building something your players would not find engaging. They will either suffer quietly, or just leave.

So how do we make sure that the campaign is engaging? Simple: we ask the players to provide backgrounds for their characters.

Now here is the tricky part: some players find it infinitely boring/useless to write backgrounds for their characters, and for good reasons. A lot of DMs ask their players for lengthy backgrounds that get stuffed inside the DM's binder, never to see the light of day again.

Big Mistake.

The campaign is all about the players, and without player input, the campaign will go where ever the DM will steer it. Some find it a perfectly valid gaming experience, but I personally like (both as a DM and as a player) to be engaged, to have a lot of control of the setting, the action, the story and the events around me.

Character background is probably the first opportunity you (as the DM) have to learn about the player and find out what interests him. So how do we get the players to write good backgrounds for their characters?

Some guidelines:

1. Character backgrounds can be short - even as short as a few sentences.
2. The background should include a short-term, achievable goal.
3. The background should include a complication.

That's it.

Think about it: all you need is something to start with. Make no mistake - if a player produces a lengthy background that include some goals and some interesting complications, by all means, thank him! But a few well-written sentences can also do the trick. Tell your players to come up with several sentences with a goal and a complication, and have their characters end up in a small town called Lakeside.

Here is what you might get:

• Loan is the daughter of a once capable wizard, now a drooling madman due to a magical experiment that went really wrong. Placing her father is a sanatorium (with all the money she had), she seeks the aid of Magnus Amandas, a great wizard and a researcher of mental afflictions. Upon her arrival to the town of Lakeside, she found out that Magnus was recently assassinated, and now - probably due to her inquiries - she is being followed by the local assassins guild.
• Tardas Longhorn - the dwarven prince of the kingdom of Ironfoot - is leading a small emissary of dwarves to the town of Lakeside, to deal with the growing threats of bandits on the trade road. Lakeside's mayor - Lord Arbor Gos - has hired a group of mercenaries to clean the roads of bandits, but the dwarves suspect that the mercenaries are actually working with the bandits. As Tardas and his dwarven guards enter the town of Lakeside, some rough looking men take note of them.
• Pilir Devengil have just reached the town of Lakeside for the annual drinking contest. Overweight, smelly and broke, he has to win it to collect the prize and pay his step-mother for his lodging at her cabin. Dragging his large body on the way to the inn, he bumped into a noble, accidentally breaking the old man's glasses. The noble demands an absurd sum of money, threatening to use his connection with the local militia's commander to arrest Pilir for his rudeness.  

Taking the slogan you have in mind - what can you do with the above backgrounds? More importantly, what do these backgrounds say about the players?

You might notice that both Loan's and Tardas's players like a mystery. Loan's player might be interested in magic, and Tardas's player might like some diplomacy and nobility. Pilir's player might be in for some goofy moments, but he also might be interested in making money.

You might want to start thinking about linking the backgrounds, building a framework that will unite the stories and make them work together. Maybe Pilir's noble will make him work for him, sending him to work as a mercenary with the rough men that "guard the roads". Maybe Magnus Amandas was assassinated because found he out about a scheme to murder the dwarven prince about to come to town? Maybe the local assassins guild did not kill Magnus, and a guild-member who was an old friend of Magnus hopes to use the young woman to lure the real assassin?

Given good backgrounds, it's not hard to wrap your mind around them and create a basic story that will kick-start the campaign. You can always ask your players for background refinements if you find it hard to squeeze a good story out of them, but that refinement should be worked out by the player, after you explain the guidelines and why you need them.

Don't be afraid to tell your players that you want backgrounds that will help you create a better story for the campaign! If these stories will come forward at the very first session - the players will be totally engaged, making the first session unforgettable, and establishing a good basis for the rest of the campaign.


photo credit: quirkybird via photo pin cc

Where Are My Glasses?

It's been a while since I wrote, mainly because of a major change I went through in my professional life. So long Polycom, it's been a great ride! Outbrain, here I come...

But that's not what this post is all about...this post is about the brand-new Macbook Pro with the Retina Display that was waiting for me when I got into the office on my first day.

As expected, I was dazzled by that truly amazing display, spending hours at home just browsing for hi-res photos to marvel upon. The quality of this display is so good, that my little daughter, from the height of her 3-year life-experience, stared at it for whole 5 minutes before saying: "Dad, I love you - and your new laptop".

The problems began a few days later, when my wife called me to help her get something done on her own laptop.

I frowned at the screen, trying to understand what's wrong with it. Everything looked blurry, full of jagged edges and rough corners. I could see lines and dots everywhere, as if I was looking at a CRT display from somewhere in the 80'...

The same happened when I turned on my first generation iPad, and even (heaven forbid!) my mid 2011 Macbook Air.

After making sure my contact lenses didn't fall off my eyes (and then realizing in terror that I never owned contact lenses, or reading glasses for that matter), I raised my arms, lifted my head and roared: "Noooooooo................."

Great job Apple.

Now I grumble every time my eyes rest on a non-Retina display. And guess what, other than my iPhone and my newly acquired (yet not really my own - I hope I won't have withdrawal symptoms when the guys at Outbrain will take it from me) Macbook Pro, all other 99.999999 displays I stare at now fall under the category of Totally Crap, Barely Usable, Eye Scorcher Piece of Junk.

As long as I use that truly amazing display, I'm in paradise, but on any other (non-retina) device - cyberspace never looked so murky...