Strongheart Halfing Bard 2/Fighter 2/Cleric 1/Dragon Disciple 1
Hit Points:
Init:
Speed: 30 ft. (6 squares)
Armor Class: (+ size, + Dex, + natural), touch , flat-footed
Base Attack/Grapple:
Attack:
Full Attack:
Space/Reach: 5 ft./5 ft.
Special Attacks:
Special Qualities:
Saves: Fort +9, Ref +8, Will +10
Feats (6): Dodge, Mobility, Weapon Finesse, Combat Expertise, Improved Natural Armor x2
Abilities: Str 10, Dex 22, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 16, Cha 14
Skills: Knowledge Arcana 8, Tumble 5
Treasure: +3 Mithril Breastplate, +3 Mithril Heavy Shield, +2 Ring of Protection, +2 Amulet of Natural Armor, +2 Gloves of Dexterity, Ioun Stone (+1 AC)
AC Calculations:
+1 (Size)
+8 (+3 Mithril Breastplate)
+5 (+3 Mithril Heavy Shield)
+5 (Dex)
+2 (Ring of Protection)
+2 (+2 Amulet of Natural Armor)
+1 (Natural Armor, Dragon Disciple)
+2 (Improved Natural Armor feats)
+1 (Dodge)
+1 (Ioun Stone)
38 AC
Optional:
+3 Combat Expertise (BAB is +3)
+3 Fighting Defensively
+6 Total Defense
Bard 2: 2d6, +3 Ref, +3 Will, +1 BAB, 30 skill pts
Fighter 2: 2d10, +3 Fort, +2 BAB, 4 skill pts
Cleric 1: d8, +2 Fort, +2 Will, 2 skill pts
Dragon Disciple: d12, +2 fort, +2 will, 2 skill pts, 1 bonus spell
Fighter using a dead hollowed-out goblin as a bag to hold his magic biscuits?
Wizard hurling bottles of poop and eggs instead of fireballs?
Frenzied berzerker being slowly and agonizingly drowned by a giant clam?
Time for a Madness Check.
Tucker's Kobolds
UNDER CONSTRUCTION
From Dragon 127, pg. 3 Tucker's kobolds
This month's editorial is about Tucker's kobolds. We get letters on occasion asking for advice on creating high-level AD&D game adventures, and Tucker's kobolds seem to fit the bill.
Many high-level characters have little to do because they're not challenged. They yawn at tarrasques and must be forcibly kept awake when a lich appears. The DMs involved don't know what to do, so they stop dealing with the problem and the characters go into Character Limbo. Getting to high level is hard, but doing anything once you get there is worse.
One of the key problems in adventure design lies in creating opponents who can challenge powerful characters. Singular monsters like tarrasques and liches are easy to gang up on; the party can concentrate its firepower on the target until the target falls down dead and wiggles its little feet in the air. Designing monsters more powerful than a tarrasque is self-defeating; if the group kills your super-monster, what will you do next‚ send in its mother? That didn't work on Beowulf, and it probably won't work here.
Worse yet, singular supermonsters rarely have to think. They just use their trusty, predictable claw/claw/bite. This shouldn't be the measure of a campaign. These games fall apart because there's no challenge to them, no mental stimulation - no danger.
In all the games that I've seen, the worst, most horrible, most awful beyond-comparison opponents ever seen were often weaker than the characters who fought them. They were simply well-armed and intelligent beings who were played by the DM to be utterly ruthless and clever. Tucker's kobolds were like that.
Tucker ran an incredibly dangerous dungeon in the days I was stationed at Ft. Bragg, N.C. This dungeon had corridors that changed all of your donkeys into huge flaming demons or dropped the whole party into acid baths, but the demons were wienies compared to the kobolds on Level One. These kobolds were just regular kobolds, with 1-4 hp and all that, but they were mean. When I say they were mean, I mean they were bad, Jim. They graduated magna cum laude from the Sauron Institute for the Criminally Vicious.
When I joined the gaming group, some of the PCs had already met Tucker's kobolds, and they were not eager to repeat the experience. The party leader went over the penciled map of the dungeon and tried to find ways to avoid the little critters, but it was not possible. The group resigned itself to making a run for it through Level One to get to the elevators, where we could go down to Level Ten and fight "okay" monsters like huge flaming demons.
It didn't work. The kobolds caught us about 60' into the dungeon and locked the door behind us and barred it. Then they set the corridor on fire, while we were still in it.
"NOOOOOO!!!" screamed the party leader. "It's THEM! Run!!!"
Thus encouraged, our party scrambled down a side passage, only to be ambushed by more kobolds firing with light crossbows through murder holes in the walls and ceilings. Kobolds with metal armor and shields flung Molotov cocktails at us from the other sides of huge piles of flaming debris, which other kobolds pushed ahead of their formation using long metal poles like broomsticks. There was no mistake about it. These kobolds were bad.
We turned to our group leader for advice.
"AAAAAAGH!!!" he cried, hands clasped over his face to shut out the tactical situation.
We abandoned most of our carried items and donkeys to speed our flight toward the elevators, but we were cut off by kobold snipers who could split-move and fire, ducking back behind stones and corners after launching steel-tipped bolts and arrows, javelins, hand axes, and more flaming oil bottles. We ran into an unexplored section of Level One, taking damage all the time. It was then we discovered that these kobolds had honeycombed the first level with small tunnels to speed their movements. Kobold commandos were everywhere. All of our hirelings died. Most of our henchmen followed. We were next.
I recall we had a 12th-level magic user with us, and we asked him to throw a spell or something. "Blast 'em!" we yelled as we ran. "Fireball 'em! Get those little @#+$%*&!!"
"What, in these narrow corridors? " he yelled back. "You want I should burn us all up instead of them?"
Our panicked flight suddenly took us to a dead-end corridor, where a giant air shaft dropped straight down into unspeakable darkness, far past Level Ten. Here we hastily pounded spikes into the floors and walls, flung ropes over the ledge, and climbed straight down into that unspeakable darkness, because anything we met down there was sure to be better than those kobolds.
We escaped, met some huge flaming demons on Level Ten, and even managed to kill one after about an hour of combat and the lives of half the group. We felt pretty good — but the group leader could not be cheered up.
"We still have to go out the way we came in," he said as he gloomily prepared to divide up the treasure.
Tucker's kobolds were the worst things we could imagine. They ate all our donkeys and took our treasure and did everything they could to make us miserable, but they had style and brains and tenacity and courage. We respected them and loved them, sort of, because they were never boring.
If kobolds could do this to a group of PCs from 6th to 12th level, picture what a few orcs and some low level NPCs could do to a 12th-16th level group, or a gang of mid-level NPCs and monsters to groups of up to 20th level. Then give it a try. Sometimes, it's the little things‚ used well, that count.
Roger E. Moore
From Dragon 127, pg. 3 Tucker's kobolds
This month's editorial is about Tucker's kobolds. We get letters on occasion asking for advice on creating high-level AD&D game adventures, and Tucker's kobolds seem to fit the bill.
Many high-level characters have little to do because they're not challenged. They yawn at tarrasques and must be forcibly kept awake when a lich appears. The DMs involved don't know what to do, so they stop dealing with the problem and the characters go into Character Limbo. Getting to high level is hard, but doing anything once you get there is worse.
One of the key problems in adventure design lies in creating opponents who can challenge powerful characters. Singular monsters like tarrasques and liches are easy to gang up on; the party can concentrate its firepower on the target until the target falls down dead and wiggles its little feet in the air. Designing monsters more powerful than a tarrasque is self-defeating; if the group kills your super-monster, what will you do next‚ send in its mother? That didn't work on Beowulf, and it probably won't work here.
Worse yet, singular supermonsters rarely have to think. They just use their trusty, predictable claw/claw/bite. This shouldn't be the measure of a campaign. These games fall apart because there's no challenge to them, no mental stimulation - no danger.
In all the games that I've seen, the worst, most horrible, most awful beyond-comparison opponents ever seen were often weaker than the characters who fought them. They were simply well-armed and intelligent beings who were played by the DM to be utterly ruthless and clever. Tucker's kobolds were like that.
Tucker ran an incredibly dangerous dungeon in the days I was stationed at Ft. Bragg, N.C. This dungeon had corridors that changed all of your donkeys into huge flaming demons or dropped the whole party into acid baths, but the demons were wienies compared to the kobolds on Level One. These kobolds were just regular kobolds, with 1-4 hp and all that, but they were mean. When I say they were mean, I mean they were bad, Jim. They graduated magna cum laude from the Sauron Institute for the Criminally Vicious.
When I joined the gaming group, some of the PCs had already met Tucker's kobolds, and they were not eager to repeat the experience. The party leader went over the penciled map of the dungeon and tried to find ways to avoid the little critters, but it was not possible. The group resigned itself to making a run for it through Level One to get to the elevators, where we could go down to Level Ten and fight "okay" monsters like huge flaming demons.
It didn't work. The kobolds caught us about 60' into the dungeon and locked the door behind us and barred it. Then they set the corridor on fire, while we were still in it.
"NOOOOOO!!!" screamed the party leader. "It's THEM! Run!!!"
Thus encouraged, our party scrambled down a side passage, only to be ambushed by more kobolds firing with light crossbows through murder holes in the walls and ceilings. Kobolds with metal armor and shields flung Molotov cocktails at us from the other sides of huge piles of flaming debris, which other kobolds pushed ahead of their formation using long metal poles like broomsticks. There was no mistake about it. These kobolds were bad.
We turned to our group leader for advice.
"AAAAAAGH!!!" he cried, hands clasped over his face to shut out the tactical situation.
We abandoned most of our carried items and donkeys to speed our flight toward the elevators, but we were cut off by kobold snipers who could split-move and fire, ducking back behind stones and corners after launching steel-tipped bolts and arrows, javelins, hand axes, and more flaming oil bottles. We ran into an unexplored section of Level One, taking damage all the time. It was then we discovered that these kobolds had honeycombed the first level with small tunnels to speed their movements. Kobold commandos were everywhere. All of our hirelings died. Most of our henchmen followed. We were next.
I recall we had a 12th-level magic user with us, and we asked him to throw a spell or something. "Blast 'em!" we yelled as we ran. "Fireball 'em! Get those little @#+$%*&!!"
"What, in these narrow corridors? " he yelled back. "You want I should burn us all up instead of them?"
Our panicked flight suddenly took us to a dead-end corridor, where a giant air shaft dropped straight down into unspeakable darkness, far past Level Ten. Here we hastily pounded spikes into the floors and walls, flung ropes over the ledge, and climbed straight down into that unspeakable darkness, because anything we met down there was sure to be better than those kobolds.
We escaped, met some huge flaming demons on Level Ten, and even managed to kill one after about an hour of combat and the lives of half the group. We felt pretty good — but the group leader could not be cheered up.
"We still have to go out the way we came in," he said as he gloomily prepared to divide up the treasure.
Tucker's kobolds were the worst things we could imagine. They ate all our donkeys and took our treasure and did everything they could to make us miserable, but they had style and brains and tenacity and courage. We respected them and loved them, sort of, because they were never boring.
If kobolds could do this to a group of PCs from 6th to 12th level, picture what a few orcs and some low level NPCs could do to a 12th-16th level group, or a gang of mid-level NPCs and monsters to groups of up to 20th level. Then give it a try. Sometimes, it's the little things‚ used well, that count.
Roger E. Moore
Quick Player Scare
It's easy to put together a trap that is inescapable, but not lethal--a good example being a magically concealed pit, that when fallen in, has iron bars slide over the top, and the pit fills with water (or whipped cream, even), then just before certain death, the water drains, a ladder appears, and at the top of the ladder is a note reading "You have been warned. The next trap will be fatal. Go home." Such a trick is sure to plant doubts into the minds of the players, and even if the trap is completely isolated and nothing comes of the warning, it will get the players on edge and make them cautious.
Making a Mystery Character
If one of your players just cannot come up with a character concept they like, there is the option of asking them to play a mystery character. This will be an ordinary, simple character, but the player knows there is something about this character that no one (not even themself) knows. There is just something mysterious that will become apparent as the game proceeds. Troubling dreams, strange memories, sudden, unexpected powers, these are all possibilities. The reason this works is because the character doesn't know they have these powers, just as the player doesn't. As the player learns everything, so too does the character.
This also lets the player flavour the character however they see fit, which may or not contrast wildly with what the character's eventual secret is. Simon of Space is a good example; his old self is a ferocious, tyrannical leader, while Simon is meek and humble and easygoing...BUT has the hidden "power" of name recognition, being rich, and connections that he stumbles upon.
This also lets the player flavour the character however they see fit, which may or not contrast wildly with what the character's eventual secret is. Simon of Space is a good example; his old self is a ferocious, tyrannical leader, while Simon is meek and humble and easygoing...BUT has the hidden "power" of name recognition, being rich, and connections that he stumbles upon.
Universal Combat Move
from ars ludi
Next time you want to do something a little different but have no idea how the M&M rules support it, try the Universal Combat Maneuver:
1) Think of an appropriate description of your maneuver, including how it's different from your normal attack.
2) Use a Move action to perform the maneuver.
3) Take a +2 on either Attack, Damage or Defense and a -2 on one of the other two. The adjustments apply to your next attack and last for a full round.
The description can be anything you want, so long as it fits your character and at least vaguely describes why you are getting the bonus and penalty you picked. For example:
• Stand very still and take careful aim with your bow, shooting more accurately but making yourself an easier target (+2 attack, -2 defense)
• Grab a telephone pole and swing it wildly (+2 damage, -2 attack)
• Use your telekinesis to hurl a spray of small rocks at your target instead of one big rock (+2 attack, -2 damage)
• Throw up a sheet of fire to singe the werewolf and keep him away from you (+2 defense, -2 damage)
• Dig in and channel the spirit of the thunder god and throw sizzling bolts of electrical death (+2 damage, -2 defense)
There are as many as you can think of. They can be actions specific to the character (”I'm doubling-down on my wrist gattling guns!”) or they can be based on the situation or the environment (”Water on the floor? Instead of grabbing him I'll lean down and electrify it with my Shock Gauntlets!”).
The same move doesn't have to use the same bonus and penalty each time. It all depends on how it is described. One round Uber Girl picks up a telephone pole and takes a vicious wild swing (+2 damage, -2 attack). Later she picks up a similar pole and swings it in a broad arc that's hard to avoid, but throws herself off-balance in the process (+2 attack, -2 defense).
The idea is to encourage players (and the GM) to come up with creative descriptions in combat, and let them adjust the odds a little bit in the process.
Next time you want to do something a little different but have no idea how the M&M rules support it, try the Universal Combat Maneuver:
1) Think of an appropriate description of your maneuver, including how it's different from your normal attack.
2) Use a Move action to perform the maneuver.
3) Take a +2 on either Attack, Damage or Defense and a -2 on one of the other two. The adjustments apply to your next attack and last for a full round.
The description can be anything you want, so long as it fits your character and at least vaguely describes why you are getting the bonus and penalty you picked. For example:
• Stand very still and take careful aim with your bow, shooting more accurately but making yourself an easier target (+2 attack, -2 defense)
• Grab a telephone pole and swing it wildly (+2 damage, -2 attack)
• Use your telekinesis to hurl a spray of small rocks at your target instead of one big rock (+2 attack, -2 damage)
• Throw up a sheet of fire to singe the werewolf and keep him away from you (+2 defense, -2 damage)
• Dig in and channel the spirit of the thunder god and throw sizzling bolts of electrical death (+2 damage, -2 defense)
There are as many as you can think of. They can be actions specific to the character (”I'm doubling-down on my wrist gattling guns!”) or they can be based on the situation or the environment (”Water on the floor? Instead of grabbing him I'll lean down and electrify it with my Shock Gauntlets!”).
The same move doesn't have to use the same bonus and penalty each time. It all depends on how it is described. One round Uber Girl picks up a telephone pole and takes a vicious wild swing (+2 damage, -2 attack). Later she picks up a similar pole and swings it in a broad arc that's hard to avoid, but throws herself off-balance in the process (+2 attack, -2 defense).
The idea is to encourage players (and the GM) to come up with creative descriptions in combat, and let them adjust the odds a little bit in the process.
Action Spots
A moment in a battle/confrontation where the players can shine by using the environment, a plan, etc., anything OTHER than just standing and exchanging blows. Sub-scenes, basically. They take place in a bigger scene (the battle) but they are memorable and let the players be creative and imaginative.
Usually splits the scene into smaller scenes, which leads to a more frantic and exciting play.
Examples:
• The octopus fight, there was fighting happening on the beach, and mike drowning, and the stone bridge
• Skeleton hallway - THREE Action Spots. Jeremy vs the Skeleton, Mike behind him vs skeleton, Jamie vs skeleton with Shaun & Cam helping, even almost a fourth as the downed skeleton crept up from behind.
Usually splits the scene into smaller scenes, which leads to a more frantic and exciting play.
Examples:
• The octopus fight, there was fighting happening on the beach, and mike drowning, and the stone bridge
• Skeleton hallway - THREE Action Spots. Jeremy vs the Skeleton, Mike behind him vs skeleton, Jamie vs skeleton with Shaun & Cam helping, even almost a fourth as the downed skeleton crept up from behind.
Revelations and Clues
Keep a checklist of important clues and info tidbits that the players need to learn. That way, you can drop them as the situation arises and check them off, rather than try to force them into a specific scenario. This leaves you free and relaxed and if the party doesn't end up in the scenario that you were planning to drop the clue? No biggie, it stays on your list, unchecked, waiting for the next available opportunity. FLEXIBLE.
Emphasize Failures
Don't just say a Scorching Ray missed, say it lit a tapestry on fire, blew out a store window, burned a hole through a nearby door...anything to add flavour and descriptiveness. Besides, anything that you introduce in this manner is another prop/detail for the players to use. Maybe they'll throw the burning tapestry on someone. Maybe they'll leap through the now-broken store window. Maybe they'll peek through the hole burned in the door. Anything works, as long as it gets them involved and thinking.
The above are purely cosmetic changes, but who says you have to stop there? Affect the battlefield. Mess people up. Change the course of battle. Who cares! Break the rules. Maybe the tapestry lights on fire and falls on whoever is nearest. Enemy? Cool. PC? Well, tough luck.
And if it's a PC failing dramatically, yes they still fail, but they're in the spotlight and failing.
The above are purely cosmetic changes, but who says you have to stop there? Affect the battlefield. Mess people up. Change the course of battle. Who cares! Break the rules. Maybe the tapestry lights on fire and falls on whoever is nearest. Enemy? Cool. PC? Well, tough luck.
And if it's a PC failing dramatically, yes they still fail, but they're in the spotlight and failing.
Roleplaying vs Rolling
from ars ludi
Rolling for Roleplaying: the Virtual Roll
Player: “… and after enumerating the logistical problems, I finish up by explaining that if the King invades now, he’s just repeating the same mistakes that doomed Badon IV when he marched into these very lands two hundred years ago, a fatal error that brought his glorious reign to an ignominous end.”
GM: “Ooooh nicely done! Now roll your Diplomacy!”
Player: “… I roll a 3.”
You’ve seen it happen. A player says something really interesting, really moving in character when trying to use a social skill, but cannot back it up with dice to save their life.
The first urge as GM is just to say “well forget the numbers, that sounded good to me, it works.” Good call, but the downside is that then you are just ignoring character stats entirely, which penalizes players who maybe aren’t so eloquent or pithy but still built characters who are supposed to be charming masters of discourse.
A better solution would be to combine roleplaying and character stats, taking the best of both worlds. How would you do that? How about assigning a virtual roll based on how good the roleplaying was, then apply character abilities to that virtual roll just like normal? Let roleplaying replace the dice instead of having the dice replace roleplaying.
I’ll use d20 as a specific example, but the concept should work for any system that uses dice to resolve social interactions.
The Virtual Roll
When a character roleplays a social action that would normally require a roll, instead of the player rolling a die the GM assigns the result of the die roll based on the roleplaying (”your speech was good enough that we’ll say you rolled a 15″). If you want some consensus democracy you can let the whole group decide what the virtual roll should be, or even just let the player assign their own score — it all depends on what kind of group you have (insert social contract here).
The default is a 10 (aka taking 10) even if you don’t roleplay at all or have nothing interesting to say. This is important because the goal is _not_ to penalize people who aren’t up for roleplaying. You should only assign a number below 10 when the player uses an argument that is particularly bad for some reason (like threatening the king, or unintentionally citing a bunch of mistakes he made recently and is still sore about).
Assign a number that seems right to you. A 15 is nicely done, and a 20 is reserved for really impressive roleplaying (naturally). You shouldn’t have a hard time coming up with the virtual roll, because you’re already used to thinking in terms of these scores — years of gaming have given you a keen sense of how good it would be to roll an 18, for example.
Now that you’ve determined the virtual roll, just proceed to add skill ranks, ability modifiers, etc to the roll and resolve the results as you normally would.
Let’s take a classic diplomatic example:
A PC knight tries to convince a weary king to join the war and save the besieged city. The character has a moderate Diplomacy score, but the player is making really good arguments, bringing in the King’s past, the plight of the people, rah rah rah.
After some consideration everyone agrees the knight did a very good job, and the group decides on a virtual roll of 16. He has a Diplomacy +6, so he gets a total of 22. Not bad.
To make things interesting let’s say another player is against the idea, and her character is trying to point out all the flaws in the plan, how it will mire the country in an unwinnable war, etc. Her priest has very sharp social skills, but the player is just saying “err, I tell him it’s a bad idea. It will go badly. Really badly.”
The priest doesn’t throw in any roleplaying, so she just takes 10, but her Diplomacy is +11 so she gets a 21. Or since she isn’t roleplaying, you could just have her roll as normal.
An interesting side effect is that you even though you aren’t penalizing people who don’t roleplay, you may encourage people who normally don’t roleplay much to do it a little bit more because of the small incentives. A player can say nothing and get a 10, but maybe if he says just a little bit, tries to get in character just a smidge, he could get an 11 or 12 pretty easily.
Is this enough to encourage some players to roleplay a bit more? Maybe, maybe not.
Why not just use bonuses?
But wait, you ask, why not just give a bonus for good roleplaying? Isn’t assigning a 16 about the same as giving a +6 bonus? No! A bonus changes the possible range of success (i.e. in this case you can a get a maximum 26 instead of a maximum 20 before factoring in your stats), whereas assigning a roll doesn’t change the range at all since you still can’t “roll” higher than a 20. And let’s face it, no matter what kind of bonus you assign the dice are still pretty random.
But what if you like the random? Well in lots of cases there is still randomness on the NPC side of the roll. If the PC rogue is just trying to deceive the NPC king, you are still rolling for the king’s ability to sense deception. There are also wacky things you can by making part of the die random and part assigned (using a d10 instead of a d20 and calling the other half the assigned score part) but I’ll leave that as an exercise for the student.
And then there’s the big question: why just social skills? What about applying a virtual roll to other things the players do? Sure, if the player works out a cunning plan to build his fortress where the marshes run up to the fork in the river to make it hard to storm, assign him a high virtual roll for his War Architect skill. Attentive readers may even now be considering how to use this idea to make decision-driven Spot checks without giving up on having some characters more perceptive than others.
How far can you take it? Try running a bar room brawl where you assign virtual attack rolls based on how interestingly players describe kicking a stool to trip someone up or swinging from a chandelier to tackle a ruffian. Or assign virtual saving throw rolls based on clever descriptions of exactly how the players avoid the fiery dragon breath, or magic rolls based on florid descriptions of mystical mumbo jumbo. You can even mix it up and let some people roll, some people roleplay, as you prefer.
Rolling for Roleplaying: the Virtual Roll
Player: “… and after enumerating the logistical problems, I finish up by explaining that if the King invades now, he’s just repeating the same mistakes that doomed Badon IV when he marched into these very lands two hundred years ago, a fatal error that brought his glorious reign to an ignominous end.”
GM: “Ooooh nicely done! Now roll your Diplomacy!”
Player: “… I roll a 3.”
You’ve seen it happen. A player says something really interesting, really moving in character when trying to use a social skill, but cannot back it up with dice to save their life.
The first urge as GM is just to say “well forget the numbers, that sounded good to me, it works.” Good call, but the downside is that then you are just ignoring character stats entirely, which penalizes players who maybe aren’t so eloquent or pithy but still built characters who are supposed to be charming masters of discourse.
A better solution would be to combine roleplaying and character stats, taking the best of both worlds. How would you do that? How about assigning a virtual roll based on how good the roleplaying was, then apply character abilities to that virtual roll just like normal? Let roleplaying replace the dice instead of having the dice replace roleplaying.
I’ll use d20 as a specific example, but the concept should work for any system that uses dice to resolve social interactions.
The Virtual Roll
When a character roleplays a social action that would normally require a roll, instead of the player rolling a die the GM assigns the result of the die roll based on the roleplaying (”your speech was good enough that we’ll say you rolled a 15″). If you want some consensus democracy you can let the whole group decide what the virtual roll should be, or even just let the player assign their own score — it all depends on what kind of group you have (insert social contract here).
The default is a 10 (aka taking 10) even if you don’t roleplay at all or have nothing interesting to say. This is important because the goal is _not_ to penalize people who aren’t up for roleplaying. You should only assign a number below 10 when the player uses an argument that is particularly bad for some reason (like threatening the king, or unintentionally citing a bunch of mistakes he made recently and is still sore about).
Assign a number that seems right to you. A 15 is nicely done, and a 20 is reserved for really impressive roleplaying (naturally). You shouldn’t have a hard time coming up with the virtual roll, because you’re already used to thinking in terms of these scores — years of gaming have given you a keen sense of how good it would be to roll an 18, for example.
Now that you’ve determined the virtual roll, just proceed to add skill ranks, ability modifiers, etc to the roll and resolve the results as you normally would.
Let’s take a classic diplomatic example:
A PC knight tries to convince a weary king to join the war and save the besieged city. The character has a moderate Diplomacy score, but the player is making really good arguments, bringing in the King’s past, the plight of the people, rah rah rah.
After some consideration everyone agrees the knight did a very good job, and the group decides on a virtual roll of 16. He has a Diplomacy +6, so he gets a total of 22. Not bad.
To make things interesting let’s say another player is against the idea, and her character is trying to point out all the flaws in the plan, how it will mire the country in an unwinnable war, etc. Her priest has very sharp social skills, but the player is just saying “err, I tell him it’s a bad idea. It will go badly. Really badly.”
The priest doesn’t throw in any roleplaying, so she just takes 10, but her Diplomacy is +11 so she gets a 21. Or since she isn’t roleplaying, you could just have her roll as normal.
An interesting side effect is that you even though you aren’t penalizing people who don’t roleplay, you may encourage people who normally don’t roleplay much to do it a little bit more because of the small incentives. A player can say nothing and get a 10, but maybe if he says just a little bit, tries to get in character just a smidge, he could get an 11 or 12 pretty easily.
Is this enough to encourage some players to roleplay a bit more? Maybe, maybe not.
Why not just use bonuses?
But wait, you ask, why not just give a bonus for good roleplaying? Isn’t assigning a 16 about the same as giving a +6 bonus? No! A bonus changes the possible range of success (i.e. in this case you can a get a maximum 26 instead of a maximum 20 before factoring in your stats), whereas assigning a roll doesn’t change the range at all since you still can’t “roll” higher than a 20. And let’s face it, no matter what kind of bonus you assign the dice are still pretty random.
But what if you like the random? Well in lots of cases there is still randomness on the NPC side of the roll. If the PC rogue is just trying to deceive the NPC king, you are still rolling for the king’s ability to sense deception. There are also wacky things you can by making part of the die random and part assigned (using a d10 instead of a d20 and calling the other half the assigned score part) but I’ll leave that as an exercise for the student.
And then there’s the big question: why just social skills? What about applying a virtual roll to other things the players do? Sure, if the player works out a cunning plan to build his fortress where the marshes run up to the fork in the river to make it hard to storm, assign him a high virtual roll for his War Architect skill. Attentive readers may even now be considering how to use this idea to make decision-driven Spot checks without giving up on having some characters more perceptive than others.
How far can you take it? Try running a bar room brawl where you assign virtual attack rolls based on how interestingly players describe kicking a stool to trip someone up or swinging from a chandelier to tackle a ruffian. Or assign virtual saving throw rolls based on clever descriptions of exactly how the players avoid the fiery dragon breath, or magic rolls based on florid descriptions of mystical mumbo jumbo. You can even mix it up and let some people roll, some people roleplay, as you prefer.
Doing Away with Spot Checks
from ars ludi
DM: “You see a few white, eyeless fish, and various stone formations in a pool of water about 4′ to 6′ deep and about 10′ long. That’s all. Do you wish to leave the place now?”
Player 1: “Yes, let’s get out of here and go someplace where we can find something interesting.”
Player 2: “Wait! If those fish are just blind cave types, ignore them, but what about the stone formations? Are any of them notable? If so I think we should check them out.”
– Dungeon Master’s Guide, 1979
Here’s a Generation Gap moment for some of you: old-school D&D did not have a Spot check.
There were no rules to determine if you saw something, or heard something, or smelled something, or whatever. There were rules for surprise, rules for listening at doors (but only doors) and there were rules for finding a secret door (”tie the elf to a stick and wave him around!”), but a generic Spot check did not exist (or Search check, or Listen check, or Notice check or whatever).
Wow, you think, things are so much better now in this modern world! Now I have an accurate way of determining whether a character notices something or not. Now I can give them fair unbiased information about the world around them with a simple die roll!
How did those primitive gamers survive, you ask? Simple: players listened to the GM’s description of the game world. Then they asked questions. Then the GM (ahem, DM) told them the results.
Rolling dice is not supposed to replace your brain. Making Spot checks all the time is just a lame way of saying “well, you haven’t asked anything that would really tell me if you would notice this or not, so we’ll just roll and let the dice decide.”
And if the information you may or may not notice is pertinent to the plot, it is asinine-by-design to decide whether to reveal it with a die roll. Scene from a GM lynching: “well if you had rolled better you would have seen that the tribe had red banners instead of black and that whole game would have probably made more sense to you, but hey, you failed your Spot check…”
One Roll to Rule Them All…
Why am I picking on the poor Spot check? Partially because I’m a big bully, but mostly because it’s a good example of a bad trend.
It’s not surprising that as a game evolves, people expand the rules to cover more and more cases. Do we have rules for car chases? No? Better add some. Even if it’s just a question of applying a core mechanic where it has not been applied before, its logical to want to be able resolve more and more situations with dice.
The trick is that dice are supposed to improve the game, not replace the gamer. What’s the final outgrowth of resolving more and more things with dice instead of brains? The one-roll adventure: if you make the roll you win! Game over. No player decision making needed.
What are dice supposed to do? They’re supposed to resolve things that cannot be resolved in the polite confines of a kitchen table or in the physics of our world. Does my car explode when I crash into that tanker truck? Does my broadsword cut off that dragon’s head? Does my magic spell levitate the castle?
If it’s something you can do at the table, you should do it, not roll for it. Unless it’s boring. Or rude.
Your character is your representative in the game world, not your replacement. Tell your character what to do. Ask the GM questions. Explore the environment. Think, play, etc.
Here’s the challenge: if it’s not a combat situation or about to become one (aka checking for surprise or attacks at unawares), don’t use Spot checks. At all. None. Zero. Let players describe what they look for or how they are behaving and just arbitrarily decide what they see or don’t see.
Once your players get the gist of it, see if they become more inquisitive, interactive and basically just play more instead of falling back on the Spot check crutch.
DM: “You see a few white, eyeless fish, and various stone formations in a pool of water about 4′ to 6′ deep and about 10′ long. That’s all. Do you wish to leave the place now?”
Player 1: “Yes, let’s get out of here and go someplace where we can find something interesting.”
Player 2: “Wait! If those fish are just blind cave types, ignore them, but what about the stone formations? Are any of them notable? If so I think we should check them out.”
– Dungeon Master’s Guide, 1979
Here’s a Generation Gap moment for some of you: old-school D&D did not have a Spot check.
There were no rules to determine if you saw something, or heard something, or smelled something, or whatever. There were rules for surprise, rules for listening at doors (but only doors) and there were rules for finding a secret door (”tie the elf to a stick and wave him around!”), but a generic Spot check did not exist (or Search check, or Listen check, or Notice check or whatever).
Wow, you think, things are so much better now in this modern world! Now I have an accurate way of determining whether a character notices something or not. Now I can give them fair unbiased information about the world around them with a simple die roll!
How did those primitive gamers survive, you ask? Simple: players listened to the GM’s description of the game world. Then they asked questions. Then the GM (ahem, DM) told them the results.
Rolling dice is not supposed to replace your brain. Making Spot checks all the time is just a lame way of saying “well, you haven’t asked anything that would really tell me if you would notice this or not, so we’ll just roll and let the dice decide.”
And if the information you may or may not notice is pertinent to the plot, it is asinine-by-design to decide whether to reveal it with a die roll. Scene from a GM lynching: “well if you had rolled better you would have seen that the tribe had red banners instead of black and that whole game would have probably made more sense to you, but hey, you failed your Spot check…”
One Roll to Rule Them All…
Why am I picking on the poor Spot check? Partially because I’m a big bully, but mostly because it’s a good example of a bad trend.
It’s not surprising that as a game evolves, people expand the rules to cover more and more cases. Do we have rules for car chases? No? Better add some. Even if it’s just a question of applying a core mechanic where it has not been applied before, its logical to want to be able resolve more and more situations with dice.
The trick is that dice are supposed to improve the game, not replace the gamer. What’s the final outgrowth of resolving more and more things with dice instead of brains? The one-roll adventure: if you make the roll you win! Game over. No player decision making needed.
What are dice supposed to do? They’re supposed to resolve things that cannot be resolved in the polite confines of a kitchen table or in the physics of our world. Does my car explode when I crash into that tanker truck? Does my broadsword cut off that dragon’s head? Does my magic spell levitate the castle?
If it’s something you can do at the table, you should do it, not roll for it. Unless it’s boring. Or rude.
Your character is your representative in the game world, not your replacement. Tell your character what to do. Ask the GM questions. Explore the environment. Think, play, etc.
Here’s the challenge: if it’s not a combat situation or about to become one (aka checking for surprise or attacks at unawares), don’t use Spot checks. At all. None. Zero. Let players describe what they look for or how they are behaving and just arbitrarily decide what they see or don’t see.
Once your players get the gist of it, see if they become more inquisitive, interactive and basically just play more instead of falling back on the Spot check crutch.
Kill The Prince!
The proposal: Some dude in charge needs to be croaked. Damn the man! Fight the power!
The twist: Set it up so that when they go to gank him. a couple of things could happen.
1) They kill the prince disturbingly easily. Only to go to court and find him there and smiling. He seems to have no interest in discussing things nor is he interested in killing the characters. That'll bake their noodles good and proper as they try to figure out what the fuck is going on.
2) They kill the prince only to have the city completely fall apart because of the way the prince put the place together. City infrastructure flies to pieces and each week therafter some vampire or other flips out in some pre-programmed fashion. Drawback: there's...no happy ending here. Since they killed him, there's no way to really fix things unless they can somehow get him raised/resurrected.
3) They get there only to dscover that he's already been destroyed (Possibly faked) and that the local law enforcement shows up just in time to catch the Would-Be Perps. A masterful frame job.
The twist: Set it up so that when they go to gank him. a couple of things could happen.
1) They kill the prince disturbingly easily. Only to go to court and find him there and smiling. He seems to have no interest in discussing things nor is he interested in killing the characters. That'll bake their noodles good and proper as they try to figure out what the fuck is going on.
2) They kill the prince only to have the city completely fall apart because of the way the prince put the place together. City infrastructure flies to pieces and each week therafter some vampire or other flips out in some pre-programmed fashion. Drawback: there's...no happy ending here. Since they killed him, there's no way to really fix things unless they can somehow get him raised/resurrected.
3) They get there only to dscover that he's already been destroyed (Possibly faked) and that the local law enforcement shows up just in time to catch the Would-Be Perps. A masterful frame job.
The Dwarf Mole
There was a 1st or 2nd ed module (I forget which). As a random encounter a dwarf with plate mail and a Dwarven Thrower hammer would just burrow from out of the ground, he would check the sun, check the wind and ask which way was east. He could not be bothered with introductions because he was in such a hurry. Then he would jump back into his hole like a Bugs Bunny cartoon never to be seen again. I ran the encounter exactly like that and the players were mildly amused and a bit confused.
Several sessions later they were in deep trouble. Several PCs were down and dying. The ones left standing were about to go down too. I had a thought. The ground burst open and out comes this dwarf in plate mail and a hammer. He looks at the enemy and says, "Please attack me all at once, it will save me time and I'm in a great hurry." The enemy was distracted by the dwarf and eventually the battle was won. The players loved that and thought I had been planning that encounter for a long time.
I did it a third time, but by then it got old, and the players started asking when is "I forgot his name gonna show?"
We all split up and went off to college soon after. I did not see any of them for five or six years. One holiday season we all got together again and played for nostalgia and old times sake. By this time D&D 3.0 had come out and we played by the new rules. They played the sons and daughters of their favorite old characters and the adventure began.
Somewhere around the 3rd or 4th encounter the ground started rumbling and a small dwarf, too young to grow a beard, wearing ill-fitting armor and holding a heavy hammer, came up out of the ground. He threw the hammer, killing the enemy, and then he called back into the hole "Got 'im Dad!" Then drops back into the hole.
It took the room 10 minutes to stop laughing.
Several sessions later they were in deep trouble. Several PCs were down and dying. The ones left standing were about to go down too. I had a thought. The ground burst open and out comes this dwarf in plate mail and a hammer. He looks at the enemy and says, "Please attack me all at once, it will save me time and I'm in a great hurry." The enemy was distracted by the dwarf and eventually the battle was won. The players loved that and thought I had been planning that encounter for a long time.
I did it a third time, but by then it got old, and the players started asking when is "I forgot his name gonna show?"
We all split up and went off to college soon after. I did not see any of them for five or six years. One holiday season we all got together again and played for nostalgia and old times sake. By this time D&D 3.0 had come out and we played by the new rules. They played the sons and daughters of their favorite old characters and the adventure began.
Somewhere around the 3rd or 4th encounter the ground started rumbling and a small dwarf, too young to grow a beard, wearing ill-fitting armor and holding a heavy hammer, came up out of the ground. He threw the hammer, killing the enemy, and then he called back into the hole "Got 'im Dad!" Then drops back into the hole.
It took the room 10 minutes to stop laughing.
Saved, Or Are We?
If the party is in a spot of unexpected trouble against a group of generic foes (ie, not directly related to the plot or major villains), a standard way of "saving" the party is to have a group of powerful NPCs show up and rescue them. But not only is this fairly implausible, but it also feels cheap.
However, a good twist on this is to have the party's Arch-Nemesis show up. He's been keeping tabs on them, he's gathered his henchmen and buffed them all to hell, and he's ready to take his revenge. The whole group teleports in, and sees the party getting attacked.
"DOGS! HOW DARE YOU STAND BETWEEN ME AND MY PREY!" and the villains starts laying into the people whupping on the party. That's when you pass the party leader, or hell, just anyone in the group, a note that says: "RUN FOOLS!"
Not only does this save the party, it's a great memorable experience, AND it's a way to show off the villain's tactics and forces available to him.
However, a good twist on this is to have the party's Arch-Nemesis show up. He's been keeping tabs on them, he's gathered his henchmen and buffed them all to hell, and he's ready to take his revenge. The whole group teleports in, and sees the party getting attacked.
"DOGS! HOW DARE YOU STAND BETWEEN ME AND MY PREY!" and the villains starts laying into the people whupping on the party. That's when you pass the party leader, or hell, just anyone in the group, a note that says: "RUN FOOLS!"
Not only does this save the party, it's a great memorable experience, AND it's a way to show off the villain's tactics and forces available to him.
Easter Eggs
For some nice bonus appreciation, throw in Easter Eggs that allude to iconic, recognizable figures/events.
For example, in a Firefly session, the party could find a shipment of goods/supplies, which include a recommendation that Sergeant Malcolm Reynolds be promoted to the rank of lieutenant in recognition of his heroism during the Battle of Serenity Valley.
By doing this, this also avoids the potential problem of having the party meet iconic figures, and immediately try fight them or influence them so as to change history.
Unfortunately, the lack of extensive Dragonlance/Forgotten Realms knowledge limits this in our games to all but the most major of people, such as:
• Dragonlance - Lord Soth, Tasslehoff Burrfoot, Sturm Brightblade, Raistlin Majere
• Forgotten Realms - Elaith Craulnober
• Ravenloft - Strahd
For example, in a Firefly session, the party could find a shipment of goods/supplies, which include a recommendation that Sergeant Malcolm Reynolds be promoted to the rank of lieutenant in recognition of his heroism during the Battle of Serenity Valley.
By doing this, this also avoids the potential problem of having the party meet iconic figures, and immediately try fight them or influence them so as to change history.
Unfortunately, the lack of extensive Dragonlance/Forgotten Realms knowledge limits this in our games to all but the most major of people, such as:
• Dragonlance - Lord Soth, Tasslehoff Burrfoot, Sturm Brightblade, Raistlin Majere
• Forgotten Realms - Elaith Craulnober
• Ravenloft - Strahd
Revised Shadow
As a normal shadow, except the shadow will try to grapple the character's shadow and merge with it. It will try to do this as an ambush, so that the character doesn't even notice.
A shadow that has successfully grappled a target can be dislodged by bright light (as of a daylight spell, or natural sunlight), a successful turn attempt, or by destroying it.
Strength Damage (Su): For each full hour a shadow is merged with a living creature's shadow, it deals 1d3 points of Strength damage to the living creature. A creature reduced to Strength 0 by a shadow dies. This is a negative energy effect.
Each time the character suffers this strength damage, remark on some physical changes...hair darkening, shadows around eyes, grey pallor to skin, etc. to give them a clue.
A shadow that has successfully grappled a target can be dislodged by bright light (as of a daylight spell, or natural sunlight), a successful turn attempt, or by destroying it.
Strength Damage (Su): For each full hour a shadow is merged with a living creature's shadow, it deals 1d3 points of Strength damage to the living creature. A creature reduced to Strength 0 by a shadow dies. This is a negative energy effect.
Each time the character suffers this strength damage, remark on some physical changes...hair darkening, shadows around eyes, grey pallor to skin, etc. to give them a clue.
The Legato
The obstacle/person that must be overcome before the party is able to confront the Big Bad. Usually the second in command, or at least the second greatest challenge to the party. In any case, the Dragon is LOYAL and is trusted enough by the Big Bad to be relied on as the last line of defence. (If they are not trustworthy, they are not the Legato, they are The Starscream).
Sometimes the Legato is actually smarter than the Big Bad, and/or stronger. But the Legato is willing to follow the Big Bad, who might have have political connections or leadership capabilities (the Legato is often a loner). The Legato might also be content as a second-in-command, and not dealing with the pressures of leadership.
The Big Bad might have some direct hold/power directly over the Legato, forcing him to obey and follow commands. In these cases, the hold had better be pretty good to use the Legato as a last line of defence, or else the Legato will find a way to go against his master in the end (often involving sacrificing himself to help the party and/or just to thwart the Big Bad.)
Will sometimes be the main opposition the party/hero will face during the adventure, while the true Big Bad works behind the scenes and only occasionally makes appearances. Hence, the Legato becomes more the primary villain than the real Big Bad (Legato is a prime example of this, as is Vader.)
Samples:
• Errtu is this to Akar Kessel.
• Legato (obviously) is this to Knives.
• Darth Vader is this to Emperor Palpatine.
• Transmetal Dinobot in Beast Wars is this to Megatron.
• Pasha Pook has TWO Legatos; Artemis Entreri and LaValle. Both are more powerful, but Pook is a better leader, has connections, and is willing to lead.
Sometimes the Legato is actually smarter than the Big Bad, and/or stronger. But the Legato is willing to follow the Big Bad, who might have have political connections or leadership capabilities (the Legato is often a loner). The Legato might also be content as a second-in-command, and not dealing with the pressures of leadership.
The Big Bad might have some direct hold/power directly over the Legato, forcing him to obey and follow commands. In these cases, the hold had better be pretty good to use the Legato as a last line of defence, or else the Legato will find a way to go against his master in the end (often involving sacrificing himself to help the party and/or just to thwart the Big Bad.)
Will sometimes be the main opposition the party/hero will face during the adventure, while the true Big Bad works behind the scenes and only occasionally makes appearances. Hence, the Legato becomes more the primary villain than the real Big Bad (Legato is a prime example of this, as is Vader.)
Samples:
• Errtu is this to Akar Kessel.
• Legato (obviously) is this to Knives.
• Darth Vader is this to Emperor Palpatine.
• Transmetal Dinobot in Beast Wars is this to Megatron.
• Pasha Pook has TWO Legatos; Artemis Entreri and LaValle. Both are more powerful, but Pook is a better leader, has connections, and is willing to lead.
Groundhog Day
A plot in which the party is caught in a time loop, doomed to repeat a period of time (often exactly one day) over and over, until something is corrected. Only the party realizes what is going on -- everyone and everything else else remembers nothing, and if not interfered with will do the exact same things every time, right down to dialogue.
Think Groundhog Day and Majora's Mask.
Great potential in D&D...ensieged city, the party is trapped inside. State of war and chaos, disaster, with many people and events happening at once. They have to, through trial and error, piece together what exactly is causing this battle, what will solve it, who the major players/events are, etc. Also good because it will allow DEATHS but not really, since the dead PC's will be back the next morning (ie The Dream).
Death = Loss of Memory?
If they died, they don't remember anything they have learned during the ordeal. But this could be a pain, as too many deaths would start clashing with unconscious metagame knowledge. Maybe it's better to just have them remember everything regardless of being dead/alive at the end.
Answer = NO
The party is approached by a man to hunt down some magical item (referred to hereafter as an orb) that will protect his city/kingdom & ensure the safety of its citizens forever.
Pretty routine, in fact, almost too routine. The party might even be suspicious of such an easy quest. Might have to have a good reason why the party is being hired, ie it's an old man, the guardian is too fierce, etc.
The dungeon crawl is relatively short and routine. There's nothing TOO crazy or too dangerous, but a good "warmup" for the real adventure to come. The guardian is challenging, but has a weakness or two that their employer advises them about beforehand. There shouldn't be any deaths. There will also be some hints dropped at something strange going on...nothing too obvious, but a slight feeling of there being more going on than appears. Examples - the dungeon being not dungeonish but instead very well kept up (too obvious?) or a door being locked on the wrong side. The party should retrieve the orb with relative ease, but it should still take a bit of time.
The doors locked on the wrong side can even be passed off as a "Random dungeon generator said so" remark, which will make the players not think anything of it...until later. Other puzzling clues can be wall murals, or maybe a recurring symbol can be an infinity sign or OUROBOROS sign.
The party brings the orb to the kingdom.
Here is where the plot can go in a number of different paths:
a) The employer has no idea about the curse, and thinks he's honestly saving the city. There is no secrecy, the party returns, they are celebrated, maybe a feast and such, and they are honored guests and go to sleep in nice, nice rooms. The time loop now starts, either because the orb is cursed, or because there is a mishap when "installing" it.
b) The employer knows exactly what the orb does, and wants to trap the city in the time loop as revenge. He has also fooled the King, and there is no secrecy about the orb. The employer leaves town during the festivities to escape the curse, but otherwise it is exactly the same as above.
c) The employer knows exactly what the orb does, and wants to trap the city in the time loop WITH HIM INSIDE so he can enjoy everyone's misery forever. This path doesn't require a huge celebration, but it's a possible outcome - lied to the King, celebrate, go to sleep, curse starts. OR, he could get the orb, and immediately smash it on the ground, confusing the party, and he will start laughing wildly and insanely and then run off. The party should be somewhat disturbed, but they will have gotten paid, so they will either rest (it being late) or leave the city. If they rest, they are awoken as normal, but if they leave the city...not sure how that would work. Maybe they just appear in the city square? Or where the orb was smashed?
Problem with leaving the city - upon waking up they would realize something was wrong, since they are somewhere other than where they went to sleep. This idea is out.
WHAT ENDS THE CURSE?
- The death of someone, or maybe preventing the death of someone
- Some kind of personal resolution with the employer (kinda lame)
- Maybe the orb is shattered each day, which starts the time loop...it has to be protected
On the First Run Through (before the party knows what is happening)
• The morning starts off with one PC (or maybe all the PCs) waking up suddenly, inexplicably. Moments later, something loud and memorable (a bell tower crashing down, a fireball exploding nearby, etc.)
• Present at least one dilemma between two choices, and their choice ends up being wrong or at least unfortunate (so next time they can choose the other option). Example: Tanis in The Dream choosing between Laurana and Kitiara; he hesitates and they both end up dying.
• Seemingly random occurrences that, if the party remembers them, they can tailor to their purposes. IE, a lightning strike will always occur at a certain time at a specific spot, so the party can use that however they wish.
• Toss out some innocent details (names, directions, klatu verada nicto type stuff) that, if they knew the day was repeating, would be invaluabe...but since they don't suspect that, it will be a sudden challenge to try to remember. Should end up like Cam's "tell me the names of your party members." To be really blunt, along the lines of being led through a locked door and saying "it's a good thing the keyword is Apple or else I'd never remember it" and then never seeing that lock again that day. The party would likely just ignore it...until they need to open the door the next day by themselves. Like that, only more subtle and not so prominently brought to the party's attention.
• In a fight in a ballroom/dining hall, have a missed attack or shot cut a rope holding up a chandelier, which sways and tips and crashes to the floor. The party can remember this and use it next time.
• Preventable mishap - someone (like a gnome with a new device) tries to do something and horribly fails and explodes/dies/etc. The party can prevent this the next day...if they want to.
• Have a useful NPC be on the verge of doing something helpful (providing information, casting a triggering spell, etc.) but are slain before they can finish the act. Next time the party can save them (if they remember). A nice example would be an assassin death striking the NPC, and the party can intercept/sacrifice themselves to save them.
• With or without direct input from the party, events happen around them. During the first day they may find themselves acting as spectators more than once.
• At the end, everyone dies in a Major Disaster. Maybe the city explodes, maybe the big demon is summoned and kills everyone, maybe the moon crashes down upon the city, but it ends in a total death. And then they wake up at the beginning of the day...
On the Second Run Through
• The next morning, the party status is exactly the same as when the ordeal begins, ie no gained gear is kept. But they still have the knowledge of what happens. They will most likely be puzzled and try to discuss it and figure things out...BUT they are interrupted by the loud and memorable event. Or maybe the loud event is actually what wakes them up, like a guard yelling at them, a la the alarm clock in Groundhog Day.
• In any fights, the enemies take the same actions as before (in general - if they were wounded on Day 1 and stopped to heal, but don't get wounded on Day 2, then obviously they don't stop to heal...)
• Start chaining, ie on Day 1, Bob dies before he can lead them to the prison. On Day 2, they save Bob and he leads them to the prison, but is then eaten by a dragon before he can say the unlocking phrase to get into the prison basement. On Day 3, they save Bob, then avoid the Dragon, but then Bob is attacked & killed by an escaped insane prisoner, etc.
Bonus: Just to screw with the players, slightly bend the rules. For instance, on Day 3 or 4, an item they find during that day unexpectedly comes back with them the next morning. This should confuse them, and if it's a key item, all the better!
Bonus: Have multiple possible branching storylines. For example, they can go with Bob the guard, or with Phil the Wizard, or with Sue the princess, OR go fight the invaders...etc. Drawback: an AWFUL lot to keep track of to accurately repeat on subsequent days.
Bonus: Maybe they are not the only ones caught in this curse? They could find someone who is actually doing something different each day, for whatever reason. Or maybe their goal is to find a person trapped in the curse.
Bonus: Have an NPC named Connors - "Phil? Phil Connors??"
Bonus: Have a mystery woven into the day's events, that the party can slowly decipher piece-by-piece.
Bonus: (if death = loss of memory) When the ordeal starts, have one or more party members know what is going on already, but the others don't because they have died on a previous day's attempt. Problems = the party members who already know what's going on, WON'T actually know what's going on other than the premise. Bad idea, now that I think about it more.
Bonus: Have NPCs named the same as the characters in the movie. Phil, Rita, Ned...maybe just the first two. Or not.
Bonus: Work in the Sealab 2021 Doppelgangers quote! Something about Queen Doppelpopolos.
Murphy: "Nice try, doppelganger!"
Quinn: "What? No! We're not doppelgangers!"
Murphy: "Save it for Queen Doppelpopolous!"
Carlos: "Sweet dreams, doppelgangers!"
DM NOTE: Maybe have pre-set "results" for NPCs, like dice rolls except more generic, like success, success, failure, success, failure...then if the party interrupts the actions of a certain NPC, their destiny is still somewhat preordained.
DM NOTE: Why are the PCs the only ones unaffected? Maybe because they were the ones who handled the orb? If the employer smashes the orb as in c) below, they were exposed to its magic, which would explain things. Or maybe it's because they aren't native to the city?
DM NOTE: Have some method of tracking in-game time, because certain events can be scheduled to happen at specific times.
--------- ANOTHER OPTION -----------
The party is hired to investigate a cursed city, or a city that has suddenly ceased all communication, or fetch an item reputed to be in this legendary ghost city, WHATEVER. They enter the city & discover it's full of people (where does the time loop start?) and also get trapped in the curse.
But why is this happening? Maybe once the party figures out the solution/cure, the city and all the people fade away? This could be the result of a mission too, ie get rid of / investigate the cursed city, maybe to obtain some artifact. Then after the city fades, the artifact is the only thing left. Along similar lines, is the city real but in purgatory? Do they pass on once the party resolves the curse? Or are they not even real, and it's just a magical effect/curse?
Think Groundhog Day and Majora's Mask.
Great potential in D&D...ensieged city, the party is trapped inside. State of war and chaos, disaster, with many people and events happening at once. They have to, through trial and error, piece together what exactly is causing this battle, what will solve it, who the major players/events are, etc. Also good because it will allow DEATHS but not really, since the dead PC's will be back the next morning (ie The Dream).
Death = Loss of Memory?
If they died, they don't remember anything they have learned during the ordeal. But this could be a pain, as too many deaths would start clashing with unconscious metagame knowledge. Maybe it's better to just have them remember everything regardless of being dead/alive at the end.
Answer = NO
The party is approached by a man to hunt down some magical item (referred to hereafter as an orb) that will protect his city/kingdom & ensure the safety of its citizens forever.
Pretty routine, in fact, almost too routine. The party might even be suspicious of such an easy quest. Might have to have a good reason why the party is being hired, ie it's an old man, the guardian is too fierce, etc.
The dungeon crawl is relatively short and routine. There's nothing TOO crazy or too dangerous, but a good "warmup" for the real adventure to come. The guardian is challenging, but has a weakness or two that their employer advises them about beforehand. There shouldn't be any deaths. There will also be some hints dropped at something strange going on...nothing too obvious, but a slight feeling of there being more going on than appears. Examples - the dungeon being not dungeonish but instead very well kept up (too obvious?) or a door being locked on the wrong side. The party should retrieve the orb with relative ease, but it should still take a bit of time.
The doors locked on the wrong side can even be passed off as a "Random dungeon generator said so" remark, which will make the players not think anything of it...until later. Other puzzling clues can be wall murals, or maybe a recurring symbol can be an infinity sign or OUROBOROS sign.
The party brings the orb to the kingdom.
Here is where the plot can go in a number of different paths:
a) The employer has no idea about the curse, and thinks he's honestly saving the city. There is no secrecy, the party returns, they are celebrated, maybe a feast and such, and they are honored guests and go to sleep in nice, nice rooms. The time loop now starts, either because the orb is cursed, or because there is a mishap when "installing" it.
b) The employer knows exactly what the orb does, and wants to trap the city in the time loop as revenge. He has also fooled the King, and there is no secrecy about the orb. The employer leaves town during the festivities to escape the curse, but otherwise it is exactly the same as above.
c) The employer knows exactly what the orb does, and wants to trap the city in the time loop WITH HIM INSIDE so he can enjoy everyone's misery forever. This path doesn't require a huge celebration, but it's a possible outcome - lied to the King, celebrate, go to sleep, curse starts. OR, he could get the orb, and immediately smash it on the ground, confusing the party, and he will start laughing wildly and insanely and then run off. The party should be somewhat disturbed, but they will have gotten paid, so they will either rest (it being late) or leave the city. If they rest, they are awoken as normal, but if they leave the city...not sure how that would work. Maybe they just appear in the city square? Or where the orb was smashed?
Problem with leaving the city - upon waking up they would realize something was wrong, since they are somewhere other than where they went to sleep. This idea is out.
WHAT ENDS THE CURSE?
- The death of someone, or maybe preventing the death of someone
- Some kind of personal resolution with the employer (kinda lame)
- Maybe the orb is shattered each day, which starts the time loop...it has to be protected
On the First Run Through (before the party knows what is happening)
• The morning starts off with one PC (or maybe all the PCs) waking up suddenly, inexplicably. Moments later, something loud and memorable (a bell tower crashing down, a fireball exploding nearby, etc.)
• Present at least one dilemma between two choices, and their choice ends up being wrong or at least unfortunate (so next time they can choose the other option). Example: Tanis in The Dream choosing between Laurana and Kitiara; he hesitates and they both end up dying.
• Seemingly random occurrences that, if the party remembers them, they can tailor to their purposes. IE, a lightning strike will always occur at a certain time at a specific spot, so the party can use that however they wish.
• Toss out some innocent details (names, directions, klatu verada nicto type stuff) that, if they knew the day was repeating, would be invaluabe...but since they don't suspect that, it will be a sudden challenge to try to remember. Should end up like Cam's "tell me the names of your party members." To be really blunt, along the lines of being led through a locked door and saying "it's a good thing the keyword is Apple or else I'd never remember it" and then never seeing that lock again that day. The party would likely just ignore it...until they need to open the door the next day by themselves. Like that, only more subtle and not so prominently brought to the party's attention.
• In a fight in a ballroom/dining hall, have a missed attack or shot cut a rope holding up a chandelier, which sways and tips and crashes to the floor. The party can remember this and use it next time.
• Preventable mishap - someone (like a gnome with a new device) tries to do something and horribly fails and explodes/dies/etc. The party can prevent this the next day...if they want to.
• Have a useful NPC be on the verge of doing something helpful (providing information, casting a triggering spell, etc.) but are slain before they can finish the act. Next time the party can save them (if they remember). A nice example would be an assassin death striking the NPC, and the party can intercept/sacrifice themselves to save them.
• With or without direct input from the party, events happen around them. During the first day they may find themselves acting as spectators more than once.
• At the end, everyone dies in a Major Disaster. Maybe the city explodes, maybe the big demon is summoned and kills everyone, maybe the moon crashes down upon the city, but it ends in a total death. And then they wake up at the beginning of the day...
On the Second Run Through
• The next morning, the party status is exactly the same as when the ordeal begins, ie no gained gear is kept. But they still have the knowledge of what happens. They will most likely be puzzled and try to discuss it and figure things out...BUT they are interrupted by the loud and memorable event. Or maybe the loud event is actually what wakes them up, like a guard yelling at them, a la the alarm clock in Groundhog Day.
• In any fights, the enemies take the same actions as before (in general - if they were wounded on Day 1 and stopped to heal, but don't get wounded on Day 2, then obviously they don't stop to heal...)
• Start chaining, ie on Day 1, Bob dies before he can lead them to the prison. On Day 2, they save Bob and he leads them to the prison, but is then eaten by a dragon before he can say the unlocking phrase to get into the prison basement. On Day 3, they save Bob, then avoid the Dragon, but then Bob is attacked & killed by an escaped insane prisoner, etc.
Bonus: Just to screw with the players, slightly bend the rules. For instance, on Day 3 or 4, an item they find during that day unexpectedly comes back with them the next morning. This should confuse them, and if it's a key item, all the better!
Bonus: Have multiple possible branching storylines. For example, they can go with Bob the guard, or with Phil the Wizard, or with Sue the princess, OR go fight the invaders...etc. Drawback: an AWFUL lot to keep track of to accurately repeat on subsequent days.
Bonus: Maybe they are not the only ones caught in this curse? They could find someone who is actually doing something different each day, for whatever reason. Or maybe their goal is to find a person trapped in the curse.
Bonus: Have an NPC named Connors - "Phil? Phil Connors??"
Bonus: Have a mystery woven into the day's events, that the party can slowly decipher piece-by-piece.
Bonus: (if death = loss of memory) When the ordeal starts, have one or more party members know what is going on already, but the others don't because they have died on a previous day's attempt. Problems = the party members who already know what's going on, WON'T actually know what's going on other than the premise. Bad idea, now that I think about it more.
Bonus: Have NPCs named the same as the characters in the movie. Phil, Rita, Ned...maybe just the first two. Or not.
Bonus: Work in the Sealab 2021 Doppelgangers quote! Something about Queen Doppelpopolos.
Murphy: "Nice try, doppelganger!"
Quinn: "What? No! We're not doppelgangers!"
Murphy: "Save it for Queen Doppelpopolous!"
Carlos: "Sweet dreams, doppelgangers!"
DM NOTE: Maybe have pre-set "results" for NPCs, like dice rolls except more generic, like success, success, failure, success, failure...then if the party interrupts the actions of a certain NPC, their destiny is still somewhat preordained.
DM NOTE: Why are the PCs the only ones unaffected? Maybe because they were the ones who handled the orb? If the employer smashes the orb as in c) below, they were exposed to its magic, which would explain things. Or maybe it's because they aren't native to the city?
DM NOTE: Have some method of tracking in-game time, because certain events can be scheduled to happen at specific times.
--------- ANOTHER OPTION -----------
The party is hired to investigate a cursed city, or a city that has suddenly ceased all communication, or fetch an item reputed to be in this legendary ghost city, WHATEVER. They enter the city & discover it's full of people (where does the time loop start?) and also get trapped in the curse.
But why is this happening? Maybe once the party figures out the solution/cure, the city and all the people fade away? This could be the result of a mission too, ie get rid of / investigate the cursed city, maybe to obtain some artifact. Then after the city fades, the artifact is the only thing left. Along similar lines, is the city real but in purgatory? Do they pass on once the party resolves the curse? Or are they not even real, and it's just a magical effect/curse?
Eviler Than Thou
When there is not one major villain, but TWO, and their plots often clash and intertwine. The two are usually drastically different, such as direct and violent vs clever schemer. They will also have vastly different moral/personal beliefs, which ensures that when they inevitably meet, they dislike each other. The heroes are caught in the middle and have to deal with the two different styles.
As the schemes begin to collide, the villains will look upon each other with disdain and disapproval, and even hatred. Despite t his, sometimes they will team up against the heroes, both intending to double-cross the other or turn the situation into their own benefit, or some other ulterior motive.
Sometimes one of them will begin a scheme so terrible that the other will be shocked and willingly work with the heroes to defeat the threat. If the threat is really, really bad (so bad that there's no way the terrible scheme villain could ever be considered anything BUT the major baddie after), either the scheming villain will die and the team-up villain becomes the primary antagonist, or the team-up villain becomes a good or neutral character and gives up his villainous ways, and the scheming guy remains the primary antagonist.
Samples:
• Magneto in X2, Stryker - after teaming up with the X-Men to defeat Stryker, Magneto seizes the opportunity to try to kill all the humans on earth using Stryker's plan. This is an example of a Terrible Scheme resulting in the team-up villain becoming the primary antagonist, at least for the remainder of the movie.
• In Beast Wars, Megatron and Tarantulas. Both have their own plots and distrust the other, but they do not outwardly fight, and they still fight together against the heroes. Megatron is more of a wiser, bigger-picture villain, while Tarantulas is more focused on personal gain/power.
As the schemes begin to collide, the villains will look upon each other with disdain and disapproval, and even hatred. Despite t his, sometimes they will team up against the heroes, both intending to double-cross the other or turn the situation into their own benefit, or some other ulterior motive.
Sometimes one of them will begin a scheme so terrible that the other will be shocked and willingly work with the heroes to defeat the threat. If the threat is really, really bad (so bad that there's no way the terrible scheme villain could ever be considered anything BUT the major baddie after), either the scheming villain will die and the team-up villain becomes the primary antagonist, or the team-up villain becomes a good or neutral character and gives up his villainous ways, and the scheming guy remains the primary antagonist.
Samples:
• Magneto in X2, Stryker - after teaming up with the X-Men to defeat Stryker, Magneto seizes the opportunity to try to kill all the humans on earth using Stryker's plan. This is an example of a Terrible Scheme resulting in the team-up villain becoming the primary antagonist, at least for the remainder of the movie.
• In Beast Wars, Megatron and Tarantulas. Both have their own plots and distrust the other, but they do not outwardly fight, and they still fight together against the heroes. Megatron is more of a wiser, bigger-picture villain, while Tarantulas is more focused on personal gain/power.
Squad of Four
Refers to a plot specifically tailored to use each character's special strengths. Should be done rarely, as happening too often makes it look like the villains are idiots and designing their defenses to match the hero team's strengths. If one of the characters has a strange or lame power, it can result in an absurd obstacle that makes no sense except to "use" said character's power.
Samples:
• Chouji, Neji, Kiba, and Shikamaru in the Naruto Squad arc storyline.
• Happens a lot in One Piece as well.
Has a lot of potential in a D&D game, where most characters will have drastically different strengths.
For a twist, have the same setup, but force each character to take on a different character's tailored challenge.
Samples:
• Chouji, Neji, Kiba, and Shikamaru in the Naruto Squad arc storyline.
• Happens a lot in One Piece as well.
Has a lot of potential in a D&D game, where most characters will have drastically different strengths.
For a twist, have the same setup, but force each character to take on a different character's tailored challenge.
Death Takes a Holiday
Something happens to the personification of Death which makes no one able to die. At first this seems like a great thing, but it quickly turns into disaster - people severely injured but unable to die and in great pain, overpopulation/lack of food, supplies, living space...or other disasters. The end result is that the mystery of what has happened to Death must be solved.
Often Death is captured or imprisoned in some fashion. Sometimes it's more silly, like he's just on holiday.
Could make for an interesting quest to free Death, probably from some Death Cult (meaning to pay tribute to Death, but unknowingly screwing him over), or some Good Cult (naively meaning to prevent Death, which they interpret as Evil). With the Good Cult, they might be taught the errors of their ways and free Death, or they might be fanatics and have to be killed. With the Evil Cult, they probably will be the fanatic route and end up facing a very annoyed Death god.
If the party tries to take advantage of the no-death clause for personal gain, they quickly learn that others, more powerful than them, are going to do the same thing TO them.
Often Death is captured or imprisoned in some fashion. Sometimes it's more silly, like he's just on holiday.
Could make for an interesting quest to free Death, probably from some Death Cult (meaning to pay tribute to Death, but unknowingly screwing him over), or some Good Cult (naively meaning to prevent Death, which they interpret as Evil). With the Good Cult, they might be taught the errors of their ways and free Death, or they might be fanatics and have to be killed. With the Evil Cult, they probably will be the fanatic route and end up facing a very annoyed Death god.
If the party tries to take advantage of the no-death clause for personal gain, they quickly learn that others, more powerful than them, are going to do the same thing TO them.
The Caper
A team of criminals get together to do something, most likely carry out some kind of crime. They are usually distinct, interesting characters each, and may be polar opposites of the good characters.
Possible uses: the players play this team of criminals fully, then later "discover" the crime(s) as their real characters. It provides a nice change of pace when roleplaying, as the players can play different personalities with different motivations and goals than their regular characters.
Has potential to flesh out and individualize NPCs/villains more dramatically than the DM doing so, as each player may lend their own unique touches to the villain they play. Also potentially drawback, as a character meant to be serious might end up being portrayed as a buffoon...
Possible uses: the players play this team of criminals fully, then later "discover" the crime(s) as their real characters. It provides a nice change of pace when roleplaying, as the players can play different personalities with different motivations and goals than their regular characters.
Has potential to flesh out and individualize NPCs/villains more dramatically than the DM doing so, as each player may lend their own unique touches to the villain they play. Also potentially drawback, as a character meant to be serious might end up being portrayed as a buffoon...
Broken Pedestal
A mentor figure who taught a main character everything they know, and is revered by said character, has some dark secrets and/or is revealed to not be as good as they seemed. Often the mentor will explain his actions as "for the greater good" or "for their/your own good" but the sense of betrayal is still strong.
In some cases, not only are they imperfect, but they're downright bad, maybe even using their status as mentor to further their evil ways. Creates a sense of betrayal, surprise, and probably anger and/or thirst for vengeance. It will always come down to a final confrontation between mentor and student, of course, if the mentor is actually evil.
Sample:
• Professor X seemed like a savior and perfect person, but then MUCH, much later you learn that he lied about Vulcan's team's death, AND ignored the sentient danger room's cries for help.
• Jade Empire, your mentor/sensei trains you and coaches you throughout the entire game, only to reveal it's all been one giant plot to conquer the universe, which you learn as he beats you down.
In D&D, this could be used with an NPC, but only one who is recurring and trusted. A great example of this was Terelas/Stelera, the priestess in the forest town within Undermountain, who worked with the party to supposedly solve the mystery of the imps, disappearing townsfolk, etc. In reality, it was actually her behind it all, and by working with the party she knew how to avoid detection, AND she managed to frame (and kill!) the town's championi, Baris, who was actually good and trying to ferret out the truth himself.
In some cases, not only are they imperfect, but they're downright bad, maybe even using their status as mentor to further their evil ways. Creates a sense of betrayal, surprise, and probably anger and/or thirst for vengeance. It will always come down to a final confrontation between mentor and student, of course, if the mentor is actually evil.
Sample:
• Professor X seemed like a savior and perfect person, but then MUCH, much later you learn that he lied about Vulcan's team's death, AND ignored the sentient danger room's cries for help.
• Jade Empire, your mentor/sensei trains you and coaches you throughout the entire game, only to reveal it's all been one giant plot to conquer the universe, which you learn as he beats you down.
In D&D, this could be used with an NPC, but only one who is recurring and trusted. A great example of this was Terelas/Stelera, the priestess in the forest town within Undermountain, who worked with the party to supposedly solve the mystery of the imps, disappearing townsfolk, etc. In reality, it was actually her behind it all, and by working with the party she knew how to avoid detection, AND she managed to frame (and kill!) the town's championi, Baris, who was actually good and trying to ferret out the truth himself.
Becoming the Mask
A character takes on a fake identity for some reason, and as time progresses, finds themselves growing more and more comfortable in the fake identity and the way they are treated. A possible sole reason is that the character falls in love with someone who they're supposed to be taking advantage of. Either way, they end up wanting to remain in the fake identity.
A slight variation is when a hero is pretending to be a villain (likely a henchman or the like) and finds himself forced to commit some terrible act while in the persona, then later is forced to come to grips with what they have done.
Samples:
• Intertia pretending to be Impulse, finds himself liking the love and friendship he receives
• Hawkgirl in Justice League, who joined the team as a spy, but came to appreciate them. Fell in love with someone she was supposed to be duping, AND betrayed her people by staying with the League.
Another variation is when a character creates a fake personality to be able to act anonymously, but becomes so involved and committed to the personality that they eventually become the fake persona, and their real self becomes the mask. (Batman/Bruce Wayne, Walter Kovacs/Rorschach)
A slight variation is when a hero is pretending to be a villain (likely a henchman or the like) and finds himself forced to commit some terrible act while in the persona, then later is forced to come to grips with what they have done.
Samples:
• Intertia pretending to be Impulse, finds himself liking the love and friendship he receives
• Hawkgirl in Justice League, who joined the team as a spy, but came to appreciate them. Fell in love with someone she was supposed to be duping, AND betrayed her people by staying with the League.
Another variation is when a character creates a fake personality to be able to act anonymously, but becomes so involved and committed to the personality that they eventually become the fake persona, and their real self becomes the mask. (Batman/Bruce Wayne, Walter Kovacs/Rorschach)
Bachelor Auction
There is an auction in a kingdom of eligible bachelors (or whatever), and somehow one (or all) of the male characters end up involved. Some possible outcomes is that they tell a fellow party member to bid on them so they don't end up the "property" of some horrible person, in which case the horrible person is rich and outbids them anyways.
Other possible bidders could include extremely beautiful people (Nymphs, Sun Elves, Dryads) or extremely ugly people (Hag, Troll, Mongrelman). If the party is good, could make for great swallowed-dignity scenes, if the cause is good, or if the party really needs the money.
Or for an actual gaming twist, maybe a villain buys them. It could be serious and lead to an encounter, or it could be funny (if female) and she just wants a night out with someone who understands her. Obviously in the latter case it needs to be a pest villain and not an evil villain.
Other possible bidders could include extremely beautiful people (Nymphs, Sun Elves, Dryads) or extremely ugly people (Hag, Troll, Mongrelman). If the party is good, could make for great swallowed-dignity scenes, if the cause is good, or if the party really needs the money.
Or for an actual gaming twist, maybe a villain buys them. It could be serious and lead to an encounter, or it could be funny (if female) and she just wants a night out with someone who understands her. Obviously in the latter case it needs to be a pest villain and not an evil villain.
Mirror Universe
Alternate reality, where alternate versions of the main characters exist. Through some bizarre circumstance, they cross over to the normal universe, or the normal characters cross over to the alternate one.
Sometimes the alternate characters are evil twins (Justice Lords), other times they're just alternate selves (Fullmetal Alchemist).
In D&D, this has many possibilities. The easiest would be having the evil twins be enemies, or even just having one party member's evil twin be an opponent (especially a smart one who "knows how they think.")
Another option would be a temporary team-up, where they work with their alternate selves to avoid some major catastrophe that affects both realities. Or for a twist, to fight their evil twins, they have to work with the GOOD twins of their regular enemies. (IE, Justice League working with alternate reality good Luthor, to fight the Justice Lords.) You could take this even further by having the team-up members be a mix of real and alternate selves, but that might be too confusing.
Another option that would be less encounter-based would be meeting their alternate selves, who are fundamentally the same except for a major, major difference which isn't learned until after teaming up with them for a while. Maybe they're willing to execute in cold blood, or intensely religious, or even VAMPIRES (or werewolves.) But important to note that despite these differences, they are not dealbreaking, ie the party reaction should be one of shock and "what do we do now?" and not "They're monsters, kill them!"
Finally, another option that simplifies things by eliminating the need for two groups is having the party end up in their alternate selves' bodies. (Maybe the alternates end up in THEIR bodies, but maybe their minds just disappear for awhile.) Party has to deal with strange world, strange friends, and unknown EVERYTHING. Makes for an interesting mini-adventure. Sample: JLA ending up in alternate bodies in Rock of Ages storyline.
Sometimes the alternate characters are evil twins (Justice Lords), other times they're just alternate selves (Fullmetal Alchemist).
In D&D, this has many possibilities. The easiest would be having the evil twins be enemies, or even just having one party member's evil twin be an opponent (especially a smart one who "knows how they think.")
Another option would be a temporary team-up, where they work with their alternate selves to avoid some major catastrophe that affects both realities. Or for a twist, to fight their evil twins, they have to work with the GOOD twins of their regular enemies. (IE, Justice League working with alternate reality good Luthor, to fight the Justice Lords.) You could take this even further by having the team-up members be a mix of real and alternate selves, but that might be too confusing.
Another option that would be less encounter-based would be meeting their alternate selves, who are fundamentally the same except for a major, major difference which isn't learned until after teaming up with them for a while. Maybe they're willing to execute in cold blood, or intensely religious, or even VAMPIRES (or werewolves.) But important to note that despite these differences, they are not dealbreaking, ie the party reaction should be one of shock and "what do we do now?" and not "They're monsters, kill them!"
Finally, another option that simplifies things by eliminating the need for two groups is having the party end up in their alternate selves' bodies. (Maybe the alternates end up in THEIR bodies, but maybe their minds just disappear for awhile.) Party has to deal with strange world, strange friends, and unknown EVERYTHING. Makes for an interesting mini-adventure. Sample: JLA ending up in alternate bodies in Rock of Ages storyline.
Along Came a Spider
A villain strings the party along with a series of clues and baits, intentionally left to toy with or test the pursuers. Hard to believe at times, but makes for entertaining mystery stories.
Sample:
• Riddler in Batman. Even realizes it at times but finds himself unable to stop leaving clues, even though it always gets him caught.
Sample:
• Riddler in Batman. Even realizes it at times but finds himself unable to stop leaving clues, even though it always gets him caught.
Accidental Hero
A character is celebrated for heroism, but they really didn't do anything special.
Usually happens when the accidental hero blundered in some way, or accidentally does something that, by fluke, ends up saving the day. Usually backfires when their blunder/lack of intent is revealed.
Samples:
• Homer saving Springfield from nuclear meltdown in "Pulling a Homer." Backfires when he has to do it again and everyone realizes it was just by fluke.
• Jayne Cobb in "Jaynestown" in Firefly. Backfires when they find out that he didn't dump the loot to share the money, but rather to escape.
• Dorothy in Wizard of Oz, when her house crushes the Wicked Witch of the East and she is applauded for her "heroic actions."
Usually happens when the accidental hero blundered in some way, or accidentally does something that, by fluke, ends up saving the day. Usually backfires when their blunder/lack of intent is revealed.
Samples:
• Homer saving Springfield from nuclear meltdown in "Pulling a Homer." Backfires when he has to do it again and everyone realizes it was just by fluke.
• Jayne Cobb in "Jaynestown" in Firefly. Backfires when they find out that he didn't dump the loot to share the money, but rather to escape.
• Dorothy in Wizard of Oz, when her house crushes the Wicked Witch of the East and she is applauded for her "heroic actions."
Ten Minute Retirement
Something terrible happens and the Hero completely gives up. Feeling of helplessness, inadequacy, or even bitterness. Then 10 minutes later something happens to change his mind, and he returns to the job. Often accompanied by a Major Entrance, aka Lee's kick on Kimmimaru.
Samples:
• Jack Bauer retiring from CTU after killing Curtis, then 10 seconds later the nuke goes off in LA, and he reverses his decision to quit.
• Vash quitting as Vash the Stampede after his angel arm activates, and then Wolfwood finds him in the next episode and convinces him to go back to his former ways.
-----
Alternately, Achilles (sulking) in his Tent, which is when a member of a team gets in a fight with everyone else and quits, and everyone hates each other. Then a threat arises which is precisely suited to the missing member's talents. Without the ex-member, the team is in grave danger. The ex-member realizes he still cares about them after all, and saves the day with a Major Entrance. Afterwards, all is forgiven and they are a solid team again.
When done well, the villains know about the quitter, and send a specialized threat to take advantage of the now-missing strengths. When done badly, the next encounter just HAPPENS to have those particular skills, and it's not as memorable.
It can also add legitimacy to a character who otherwise does not seem important or necessary, and proves why they are an equal member of the team.
Samples:
• Jack Bauer retiring from CTU after killing Curtis, then 10 seconds later the nuke goes off in LA, and he reverses his decision to quit.
• Vash quitting as Vash the Stampede after his angel arm activates, and then Wolfwood finds him in the next episode and convinces him to go back to his former ways.
-----
Alternately, Achilles (sulking) in his Tent, which is when a member of a team gets in a fight with everyone else and quits, and everyone hates each other. Then a threat arises which is precisely suited to the missing member's talents. Without the ex-member, the team is in grave danger. The ex-member realizes he still cares about them after all, and saves the day with a Major Entrance. Afterwards, all is forgiven and they are a solid team again.
When done well, the villains know about the quitter, and send a specialized threat to take advantage of the now-missing strengths. When done badly, the next encounter just HAPPENS to have those particular skills, and it's not as memorable.
It can also add legitimacy to a character who otherwise does not seem important or necessary, and proves why they are an equal member of the team.
Major Entrance
A character makes a memorable, incredible entrance, tossing foes out of the way in a display of incredible skill, or at exactly the right moment, or single-handedly saving the day. Often the character has been missing/away/presumed dead/etc, or maybe the party is expecting someone else, but virtually always it is a surprise.
Samples:
• Wulfgar showing up instead of Zaknafein in the Drizzt series, and kicking Errtu's ass.
• Optimus Prime "entering" the fight in the TF movie and disposing of about a dozen Decepticons with ease.
• Lee showing up OUT OF NOWHERE to save Naruto versus Kimmimaru.
Samples:
• Wulfgar showing up instead of Zaknafein in the Drizzt series, and kicking Errtu's ass.
• Optimus Prime "entering" the fight in the TF movie and disposing of about a dozen Decepticons with ease.
• Lee showing up OUT OF NOWHERE to save Naruto versus Kimmimaru.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)