Building a Career in the Games Industry

I saw this on Youtube and thought it was pretty great. Marcelo Figueroa is a veteran of the Edition Wars, an AEG alum and knows what he's talking about. It was an enlightening talk (even if I'm sort of late to the game, seeing it some three years late), and it hopefully has something in it that will appeal to you.

Also, as an industry professional who is looking to further his career in sales, marketing and management, if someone in the know could fill me in on the Weasel List and Gamer High - assuming these institutions still exist - that would be great. 

GenCon 2012: Why “Spouse Activities” is the Worst Thing

This is my first-ever guest column. The young lady who wrote it doesn’t have a blog of her own, but expressed her concern regarding GenCon’s off-putting programming for non-gamers, and I agreed to share her thoughts on my little corner of the web. I hope you find it as interesting and thought-provoking as I do.

So I guess I should start by introducing myself. My name is Natalie, I am 20 years old, a child and youth care worker and a nerd. I’ve attended Gen Con once, had an absolute blast and I just bought my badge for this August. There is, however, one thing that still sets me off in a red-faced rage: the “spouse activities” (SPA). Seriously, I’ve screamed in the faces of strangers about this, something I’m not too proud off. What enrages me even more is that in my courtesy Google search I found a few bloggers who were displeased by the issues, frustrated even. But not pissed off. I saw a gap and I plan on filling it.

Gen Con is amazingly diverse in its attendees and from what meager programing I attended out of the 2+ inch activity book it’s clear to me that the organizers did a damn fine job of providing for every kind of nerd. From table top gamers of all breeds to zombie lovers, anime freaks and LARPers; you name it there was a seminar, class, tournament or show about it. There was also a good selection for maturity/age level. Hit up the hentai cafe or chill with your younglings at the training grounds. No matter who you are or what you like, pull-ups to Depends Gen Con has something for you. Unless you’re female. Now, don’t get me wrong, there is good stuff for the nerd ladies, please refer to the 2+ inch program book. I’m referring to the Con Widow, the poor chick that gets dragged along by their boyfriend/husband to the biggest tabletop geekfest in North America. Upon arriving these ladies aren’t directed to Gen Con, instead they are provided with spouse activities. And what do the organizers think a non-nerd lady wants? Knitting.

The section for those, mostly female, who are not at the con for the con is full of activities like scrapbooking, beadwork, belly dancing and self-defense. Oh, and then there is “Crochet for Your Gamer” where you can “learn to crochet… so you can make fun little things for the gamer in your life.” The D 20 Girls project is running this event. They are also running “The Red Light District” and “Killer Bunnies: Quest for the Golden Carrot” among others. But not for the Widows. Rather than learning about a Dr. Who RPG (a free event, no experience required) or playing a Killer Bunnies game (always a recipe for fun times) the Widows get to crochet things for their gamer partners. Some, if not most of these events are things I can see being worked into the regular programming. They may not be inherently nerdy but as a family focused con it makes sense to have non-gamer activities for people to attend. And with some creativity any nerd can integrate their new self-defense knowledge into a RPG experience. But nope! Instead the randoms are labeled For Spouses Only and gifted to the partners of nerds in assurance that there is a space for them. A nice, safe and quite space away from all the hustle and bustle of the unwashed masses, not to mention their partners, where non-nerds can pass the days until they go back home. Which is just dumb.

So, ladies, if you’re at the con with your nerdy lad and you don’t want to game at all, have no fear for there are many other things to do. Into making or watching films? Maybe you could check out a seminar like “Film Budget and Finance” or “Trailer Park Jesus”, one of many featured films. Like anime? Learn with “The Guide to Anime Tropes” or watch with a room full of fellow fans with “Epic Battles of Amine”. Like crafty things? There are classes like “learn to make chainmail” and “21 days to a novel”. Have kids? Take them to the “Peter Pan Dress Parade” or “Create a Game” which as you may have guessed will teach your young geek how to create their very own game. Not to mention a whole butt load of child care giving you the freedom to check out all these events. And then there is the Misfit events section which has “Spot the Geek” a cosplay photo scavenger hunt and “BattleTech: Firestorm Tesla 11 Virtual Reality Cockpits”. That’s right ladies and gents, for 7 minutes you can command a battle mech on a 31st century battlefield. These are all event sections that require no playing of games and many of the events themselves involve less then nerdy things like watching movies or writing a novel. Yet none of them are marketed to Con Widows. So why have a completely different section for Widows full of non-gaming programing when there are already a few non-gaming activity sections?

If SPA was just another non-gaming category I think it would be pretty damn cool. Learning how to make your own yarn, taking a haunted walking tour of the city and learning the Thriller dance are all fun things that nerds and non-nerds can enjoy. The problem is this: the SPA is girlfriend daycare. Not to be left alone in the con to find the many non-gaming options the lowly Con Widow is dropped off at the SPA center to be entertained until the men folk return home. It is an unnecessary segregation of a group who could be having just as much if not more fun without the penned-in safe zone. There is no need for this category. It perpetuates the misconception that women lack ability or interest in gaming, and more annoyingly that they lack interest in peripheral nerdly pursuits. The insistence that women who do not want to game will be soothed by traditionally feminine hobbies is both condescending and rooted in a strange sort of sexism. For a convention that encourages families to attend it should be reaching out to those with less experience or exposure to the world of geekdom not shutting them up with zumba classes. One massively simple way to fix this would be eliminating the SPA.

It’s an easy solution; all they have to do is integrate the programming. Have an icon for non-gaming activities instead of activities for non-gamers, any overflow can go towards filling out the Misfit section. Design the programming so that gamers are invited to take part in knitting just as much as non-gamers are invited to take part in a D&D game. Don’t make it so that a person coming into the scene for the first time is shown the door to their roped in section of the party while their partner is off riding in a mech suite simulator.

Con Merchandizing for Lyndsay

One of my favorite stories about convention merchandising is about Robert Khoo. Whether or not it’s true, I have no idea, and I’m telling a half-remembered story that I read many, many months ago, but the general idea went like this:

Scott Kurtz has been to a lot of conventions, and when he’d show up at one, he’d arrange his books on the front table in chronological order. People would buy lots of the first book and lots of the most recent, but a lot of the stuff in the middle was skipped. He figured people just wanted to start the series from the beginning or pick up the new product, but fewer people wanted to jump in during the middle and just assumed that’s how his sales would always work at conventions.

One of the many years he was placed next to the Penny Arcade booth, Robert Khoo rearranged his books. He came over from his booth on the last day of the convention and set the books up chromatically. Suddenly, books started flying off the shelves that hadn’t sold more than a couple of units at a convention. When sales started to die wind down again, Khoo came over and arranged them based on the size of the piles, making a pyramid of books. Again, there was a surge in sales. The third time he came by, Kurtz asked him “What are you going to do when I’ve only got three books left?”

“Don’t worry,” Khoo said. “I have a plan.”

When people began to filter out of the con for the final time, Khoo came over to find a smattering of books left on the shelf. He propped them up in such a way as they were facing the direction of the people leaving. When the convention was over, Scott had sold all of his books for the first time ever.*

What’s the moral of this little merchandizing fable? The key to good table marketing is to try new things.

What spurred this little storytime? The lovely GeekyLyndsay** of Dragon Chow fame is going to a convention and doesn’t want to use a table to display her dice bags. Which makes all sorts of sense because, if you’ve ever tried to find an effective merchandizing solution for dice bags, you know that tables, display cases and shelves are basically the worst possible furniture in the world. The problem comes from the nature of bags, I think. They defy shelving units, their strange shape making it damned near impossible to display the full awesomness of the bag. If the bag is lying flat, it looks boring. If you have them propped up so you can see their tops, they lose any sort of clear identifiable qualities. Nothing about this is good. So to be able to display dice bags more effectively, you need to think outside the box some.

My most fervent suggestion is to have people carry them around the con and show them off. This comes with two really key components: product champions (those people who love your stuff and want to sell it for you) and mobility (because they don’t have to be at the table when they’re showing off the bags). It gives people the opportunity to touch the bags, to interact with them, and more importantly to interact with people who like them. Each individual carrying the product provides a testimonial to your product’s awesomeness, and they can go into more detail about what makes your bags more kick-ass than the bags getting sold by Random Steampunk Booth #7. Rather than let the bags speak for themselves on a personality-free shelf, you have someone there to sell, not only the product you’ve made, but the services you’re selling (I believe Lyndsay is still doing personalized bags, for instance). Product champions are incredible people, and I think Dragon Chow has enough fans that it would be easy to convince a number of them to run around with sacks of them.

Another option: Hang them from the ceiling. Get some very long twine and some clothes pins and make a display of dice bags that can be seen from across the convention hall because it’s the only display that has a billion colors and goes all the way to the top. Color-code them so that people look over and see a blast of colors that go from floor to ceiling, and make sure you’ve got multiples of each bag hanging around at the bottom of the display so that you can sell them without having to climb an enormous ladder to get them.

Even more option: Make designs out of them on the cubicle walls of your booth. Use clothes pins to make an attractive design or pattern that will have people stopping in to at least check out what the hell it’s made out of.

Yet more option: Have people wear the bags as hats. Give a free bag to any customer who wears their bag on their head for an hour for you acting as a de facto booth bunny.

One More Option: Get a bunch of spinning racks, like the ones they use at bad jewelry stores that are made of slat-wall on a spinner. Put hooks in, and hang your bags in an easy-to-navigate pattern on the floor. This option is quite a bit more expensive, obviously, but the spinning racks would belong to you, and you could use them at other conventions in the future.

There are a lot of ways to merchandise your dice bags without putting them on a table or arranging them on a shelf. The key, though, is to keep switching things up, keep giving people something new and interesting to look at. Rearrange by color, size, shape, number of items, popularity of items, difficulty in making the product, scent or taste, whatever. Just keep giving people a reason to come back to your booth every day (or make your booth come to them) and make sure that when they do, you pounce on them like a half-starved tiger on a helpless gazelle. Because customers love the attention.

*For the record, I have no idea whether or not this story is true. I also don’t know if it was actually about the people I think its about if it is true. But it seems like a very Khoo thing to do, and I don’t at all think he’d mind if it was added to his already expansive Legendary Character.

**This article was edited to reflect the fact that I am terrible at alternate name spellings. With a name like Kristoffer, you'd think I'd be more conscious of stuff like that.

SCP Foundation

Every once in a while, I get the idea in my head that I should do some monster research, that I should go trawling the internet looking for some inspiration for a really over-the-top creepy monster or something. Then I remember that the SCP Foundation exists, except that I can never remember what it's called because "The SCP Foundation" is a terrible fucking title for anything. I keep mixing up the letters. Or including letters that don't exist. Because it doesn't even stand for anything. 

Today on Reddit, someone posted a link to it, and I decided to keep it here, on my blog, for the rest of forever. If you've never taken a look at the SCP Foundation before, it's very cool. Reading over a few of the entries now, I'm a bit taken aback at the amateurishness of the writing, but the idea behind the project is intensely awesome.

Basically: Catalogue a list of monsters from the point of view of the scientists tasked with keeping them safe and safely away from the public. Each entry has an item number, an object class, a list of special containment procedures, and a description of the thing and its abilities. It is written something like a field report, without embelishment or hyperbole. Just "This is the thing. This is what we've observed it doing. Don't touch it with your hand or it will wither your flesh to the shoulder and you'll die from necrosis a week later. Also, it's a five year old girl." 

http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/

I Wear Black Robes Now. Black Robes are Cool.

Yesterday, I published a post about how I want some more equality in my D&D. Everyone was with me about the depiction of female characters and representing a greater spectrum of skin tones in the art. Where I seemed to lose people was in the idea that people with disabilities could be cool. Apparently, to be worth looking at in a piece of game art, you must be able-bodied, hale and healthy.

My buddy Raistlin here disagrees.

See, Raistlin isn’t exactly Mr. Healthypants. He was a sickly kid, got picked on a lot, and grew up to take a test that destroyed his body and made him a physical wreck of a man. He was weak, he was slow, he had a wracking cough for which he took foul-smelling medicines and which often had him spitting blood into a handkerchief.

Then – and this is important – he killed the Dragon Goddess of Evil. By himself.

Now, maybe that doesn’t mean a lot to you. Maybe, like my friend M, you think that Raistlin was a creepy wimp, undeserving of respect. Maybe, like my friend J, you think that Raistlin belongs in the written fluff of the game, the novels and the short stories, but people like him shouldn’t appear in the art. Personally, I think Raistlin is one of the most beloved characters from the early era of D&D fiction because he is a kid with disabilities, an underdog who came back and proved to be the most powerful of his companions despite his afflictions. He found ways around them, found strength in them, and in so doing became a total fucking badass.

I’m not saying that we should have rules for multiple sclerosis or cerebral palsy in the game. I just see no reason why a character with one of those conditions couldn’t be a total badass in the context of the game’s art. I just see no reason why there shouldn’t be an image of a kick-ass wizard with Lou Gehrig’s (I think we can all agree that Stephen Hawking is the most badass wizard in the world right now).

The arguments brought forth so far are thus: people who are differently abled would be terrible player-characters in a role-playing game; it is already difficult to find cool pictures of player character options in the books and that the inclusion of differently abled individuals reduces the number of cool pictures available; D&D isn’t about the real world, it’s about idealized visions of yourself; and the effort would lead to trivialization and mockery. I’m going to address these things one at a time, but so far as I’m concerned, the only actual argument, the only thing on that list that is not veiled ableism, is the concern regarding trivialization.

There are two assumptions made in the first two arguments that are deeply disturbing to me: “the differently abled are entirely incompetent,” and “the differently abled cannot be cool.” These assumptions are, honestly, at the heart of ableism, and it makes my heart hurt to know that some folks’ knee-jerk reaction to inclusion of the differently abled is to assert their inability and apparent lack of awesome. It is deeply upsetting that these sorts of assertions normally go entirely unchallenged.

It is entirely possible for a differently abled individual to be entirely, 100% fucking incredible. It happens all the time, and you are well within your rights to punch anyone who says otherwise directly in their genitals.
The issue of trivialization is one that I’m sensitive to, though apparently not as keenly as I should be (I was taken to task for a few remarks that were trivializing, and I don’t mind admitting I’m feeling sheepish about that today), and it is an admittedly difficult thing to work through. The issue doesn’t really revolve around the post as it was written, as I was specifically speaking to the art of the game and purposefully avoiding talking about the game’s text, but on re-reading I can see how it could appear I was discussing adding differently abled characters to the game in a text/rules sense.

The path to addressing inclusion of the differently abled is a bit treacherous, as there’s disagreement within the communities of the differently abled about how the topic should be treated, and any action taken on it is probably to offend someone. That doesn’t at all mean that we shouldn’t make the effort, though, and it is imperative that we get incredible people working on it. While it is going to require some tricky public relations work, I think that including anyone and everyone in your game is always a worthwhile endeavor.

Session Review

So I’m actually writing some of this session review before the session happens. I’ve got some pretty intense stuff happening this time around, and I figured it would be best if I could just get some of it down before the session goes live, and fill in the blanks when it’s done. Obviously, I’m going to erase this introduction before I publish the post, but it’s nice to have a draft to come back to when the session’s done.

The first thing to take a good look at is the Social Combat system. I’ve designed the Headmaster at the Extreme Library around this sort of encounter as a solo who will give up when he’s bloodied. With completely average damage rolls, it will take 19 hits to finish him off; not a ton, just enough to see how the system works and where it needs to be tweaked a bit. Here, have the whole encounter!

This is how things usually go at the Extreme Library:

 

1. You go to the front desk and request a book.
2. The bookaneers go and get that book for you. This can take weeks.
3. Depending on the level of difficulty getting the book, you pay a fee.
4. You get your book.

 

The player characters are on something of a time-budget, though, and can try and convince the woman a the front office to let them go after the book themselves. That will, of course, cost something, as the Extreme Library makes all of it's money from it's book delves. Determining whether or not the players will be able to get the books for themselves (and at what cost) will be a Diplomatic Encounter.

 

Roll Initiative: d20 + (half level + charisma modifier + misc. initiative mods)

 

On your Turn: Choose Bluff, Diplomacy or Intimidate as a Fight, Defend or Manouever action. Roll that skill vs. the opponent's Passive Insight. If the check is successful:

 

Fight: Deal 2d6 + Charisma Modifier damage.
Defend: Choose a creature. That creature may spend a healing surge.
Manouver: Opponent suffers a -2 skill penalty to Insight (save ends).

 

 

So looking at his stats, he’s got a social AC of 22, and a +14 to hit on most of his attacks. That’s pretty much in line with level 10 rolls, though he was hit a little too often, and didn’t do enough damage to be a real threat.

The player characters actually knocked this guy around pretty easily, and it was slowly turning into a slog at about the point he was bloodied. They were going on all-out attack, which is fine against a guy like this, but he simply wasn’t dishing out damage on a level to be a decent threat. I think the next social combat encounter is going to be a lot higher on the damage dealt, with a higher Insight check; I want to see people using Maneuver and Defense rolls as well as just straight-up attacking.

The second thing I’ve done today is fuck with movement a bit. I incorporated a bunch of notes that constitute something of a miniature skill challenge; success on the skill challenge means you don’t take boatloads of damage.

The Extreme Library is built into the side of a huge ocean-facing cliff. It falls thousands of feat, hangs miles over the ocean (held up by the Cage Spires), and some say that the bottom is some sort of dimensional rift to where every book ever made in every language, written on every possible material has come to rest. It is an insanely dangerous place, due to the huge number of dangerous creatures that guard the various tomes of incredible value here and the certain doom that awaits anyone who falls.

 

The "broomsticks" that the party has are basically useless here; you can only fly a number of squares above the ground equal to your speed, and the number of squares between the ground and the Library are "infinite."

 

To get around on the walls here, they will need climbing and rappelling gear. The DC to climb down, using appropriate equipment, is 5 (just with half their level, every PC makes it); the shelves make for easy climbing, as there are plenty of hand and foot holds, but it is exhausting work (DC 22 Endurance check every hour, or lose a healing surge).

 

The combat map will be flipped on it's side, today, with one side being "Up," the other "Down." You can move up to your speed Up with a DC 25 athletics check or half your speed Up with a DC 15 athletics check. You can move an extra two squares Down with no climb check.

 

With a DC 20 athletics check, you can also "swing," which allows you to "fly" up to half your speed side-to-side (and diagonally down), but you need to begin and end your move action on the "ground."  While swinging you can make a melee basic attack as a minor action once any time during movement, without provoking an opportunity attack. You may swash your buckle at any time during this movement or attack.

 

Attacks that require two hands CAN be done, but provoke an Immediate Interrupt from Gravity that slides the character two squares.

 

If you fall prone, fall ten squares and take 2d10 damage. Your rope will save you from most of the damage, but not all of it.

The party made it through the first encounter using these rules, and while they didn’t look any different on the map, the shift in perspective from top-down to side-scroller resulted in a few moments that couldn’t have happened otherwise. Things like “falling as a charge” or “jumping on the gargoyle’s back” that would be completely ridiculous in a top-down map orientation.

We fought some bookend gargoyles, and a bookworm (just normal gargoyles, and a scythejaws that had its speed reduced to zero). Good times were had.

The Most Metal Game Ever

So I've decided to put Undermountain to rest for a bit, and wait for Ian to come up with the next encounter for us. This is supposed to be a collaborative process, and while I'm totally down for taking his idea and running with it, I'd prefer to give the idea some time to breathe and let Ian get some input going. He's got a couple of weeks to make that happen before I jack the idea entirely. ^_^

Instead, I'm going to talk a bit about the first adventure I want to run for the Bones of a Dead God campaign. I suppose it's too much to ask for that potential players of mine avoid reading this blog, so I can't exactly get into too much detail about the first adventure or anything, but I'd like to talk a bit about the theme, the flavor and the set-dressing of the thing.

There are a few ways you can take a game setting like this one. The first thought through my head was "gothic Cthulhu horror" as we try to stop the evil cultists from waking up the dead god that makes up our whole plane of existence. Which was pretty dope. But then I got to thinking about crazy cultists, and how Rasputin (the guy that lives in my head next to the heading "cultist") wouldn't look out of place at all on a metal album cover. Tattered black robes, wispy black beard shot with streaks of gray, long black hair blowing in the wind as he holds out his hand toward you, the heart of a small child, still beating, gripped within. Yes. Rasputin-cultist is fucking metal.

Which forced the whole thing to shift in my head to become this huge, over-the-top heavy metal rock opera about stopping monsters and cultists from waking this dead god and bringing about the End of All Things. There's a very metal edge to that. Huge, macho barbarians oiled in the blood of their enemies, streetwise elven rangers dressed in spiked leather, sultry witches that look more like suicide girls than Elminster... Love it. Impossibly high castles looming over intricate cave networks of doom. Long-haired, wild-bearded cultists destroying the world. Lots of pentagrams, blood sacrifices, images of skeletons in dark robes, piles of skulls, tentacles and pig heads, anything Brom ever painted. Yeah. That's goooooood.

I'm thinking the first villain is going to be a fully-statted out cleric a few levels above the main crew. She'll be based on Baba Yaga, using a broom as her holy implement and flying about in a cauldron forged from the skulls of the children she's eaten. She'll be the leader of this death cult. The first adventure will have something to do with retrieving a very important book that has been stolen from the cobbler of the town of Capp. There will be many fights with Rasputin-cultists, a boss-fight with someone who isn't Baba Yaga, and the shocking discovery that the world is going to end in three months if y'all don't stop that bitch. ^_^

Also, I'm thinking each player should have their own WWF-style theme song. Oh fuck yes.

The Airship Skill Challenge

So I'm a huge fan of skill challenges right now. I hadn't had much of a chance to use them previous to the D&D Encounters mini-campaign, and having seen them work there, I'm pretty much all about them now. I want to use them for everything. In my Eberron campaign, I'm the captain of the Mourning Glory, a fantastic little airship. The DM hasn't really focused on this aspect of my character at all, which is a bloody shame, because I think airships are one of the best things about the Eberron setting. So I wrote up a huge note to my DM about the kick-ass things that could possibly happen between Breland and Karnath on an airship, which I will share with you here:

We're going to be travelling back to Karnath, I assume, in the course of the next couple of sessions. After all, we have a king to kill. Getting to Karnath by airship seems like it would be pretty easy, but having easy things in a session of D&D is never as much fun as having HARD things to fight against while playing. So I figured I'd offer some suggestions for making the whole airship thing a little more crazy.

There are two "safe" passages to Karnath from Sharn. Both go around the Mournland, because the Mournland is fucking terrifying. The first is to fly over Thrane and through Aundair, the second is to fly through Darguun, over Valenar, stop to restock in the Talenta plains and move up through the south-east. Another option is to swing _around_ Darguun, over Zilargo, out in to the sea, up through Valenar and then through the Talenta plains. Each of these routes has it's own dangers, dangers that Aeral knows about. They also probably house things Aeral has never seen before, which is also for the good.

For the sake of ease, I'll be calling these Route 1, Route 2 and Detour.

Going through Thrane is not something Aeral is going to be thrilled about. As a paladin of the Sovereign Host, the Silver Flame and its followers make him pretty uncomfortable. The biggest bonus to travel through Thrane is that the Houses don't have much sway there, meaning they have a pretty piss-poor air force. We'd be unlikely to run into any of the Silver Flame's groupies, and the worst we'd run into would be rejects from the Eldeen Reaches flying over.

Aundair is exactly the opposite. House Lyrandar keeps their headquarters on a small island just north of the country, there are flying islands everywhere, and air traffic is a daily occurance. It's impossible to get through Aundair without notice, and given that we came through the airborne nation right before King Boranel's children reappeared in Breland, and given that I'm now Sir Aeral d'Lyrandar, Knight of Breland, I have to assume Esravash knows what's going on. It would be a safe bet, says my 14 Wisdom, that _everyone_ knows, and that we are currently a target for the entire nation of Karnath and her allies.

The threats in Aundair run the gamut from air pirates to flying whales to dragons to anything else that would enjoy the nation-wide manifest zone. Aundair also knows about these threats and is armed to the teeth with the most impressive air force in the world. There are balistae on every floating island, a well-established port-authority, an airborne "coast guard," the whole nine yards. One does not fly into Aundair in secret, and it would be silly to think we could get through there unscathed.

Route 2 has us flying over Darguun. Mountains are tough to navigate by air, and flying over them would be terribly uncomfortable in a non-pressurized, non-climate controlled airship. Even flying _through_ the mountains is going to be cold and uncomfortable most of the time, and the Goblin empire here knows the terrain far better than Aeral does. They aren't friendly and they know how to take down an airship if they want to. Balistae, catapults, nets, arrow launchers, bows and arrows with rope attached for boarding; these guys are fucking terrifying. Add to that spiked-chain-weilding psychos, and we have ourselves a rough day.

Valenar houses the second-largest Lyrandar population in the world, having been granted large parcels of land for raincalling services and agricultural assistance. This means crazy Arab-themed elves on airships, air pirates, flying carpets, flying monkeys and all sorts of crazy air traffic. Also, religious tension between the Keepers of the Past, my own Sovereign Host worship and Tyson's worship of the Blood of Vol could be interesting.

The biggest thing to worry about in the Talenta Plains is dinosaurs. And pterodactyl-riding halflings of doom. And boomerangs. And halfling barbarians, and the fact that halflings have the Mark of Healing, making them damned near impossible to kill. Also, flying jelly swarms, dust storms, giant bats, giant birds, huge prehistoric insects and whatever other untamed goodness you can think up.

The Detour is a lot like going through Darguun, but with more civilized antagonists. The gnomes of Zilargo make for the crazy, and I'm sure it would be more fun for you to come up with how they'd fuck with our world than for me to offer suggestions. ^_^

Hope this helps a bit. I know running a campaign with a form of travel that circumvents land-based encounters can be a huge pain in the ass.

He didn't use any of it, which is totally justified because he is the DM and there are things he wants to focus on that are not, necessarilly, flying. Looking at the above, though, I'm thinking "Well shit. Let's make this a Skill Challenge."

So flying. There are a few things that go into flying a giant fucking airship. Most of those things are the same things that go into sailing an old sailing ship. This skill challenge assumes that your characters are 7th - 9th level and in a position of authority over the crew.

The airship slides into the air with a low whoosh of flame, climbing steadilly in altitude as the crew scrambles to finish last-minute preparations. As the docking tower shrinks against the horizon, the ship reaches a cruising altitude hundreds of feet above the ground. The journey is under way.

Flying an Airship
Level: 7
Complexity: 5 (12 successes before 6 failures)
Primary Skills: Athletics, Diplomacy, Endurance, Intimidate, Perception
Secondary Skills: Acrobatics, Nature, Thievery

Athletics DC 19 (limit 4 successes)You haul on riggings and set booms, ensuring the airship stays well on course. Failure on this check counts against the skill challenge, and the lead player suffers damage equal to twice his or her level as the booms crash into, or the rigging lashes out at, him or her.

Diplomacy DC 19 (limit 3 successes)You speak to various members of the crew, building synergy and helping them work together as a cohesive unit. Failure on this check counts against the skill challenge, and each member of the party suffers a -2 penalty to their next roll.

Endurance DC 17 (limit 2 successes) The rigors of daily life upon an airship wear at you, but you find reserves of strength and willpower that help you suffer through. Failure on this check counts against the skill challenge, and the lead character loses a number of healing surges equal to half his or her level. If healing surges are reduced to zero, that character takes damage equal to three times his or her level as well.

Intimidate DC 17 (limit 4 successes)You push the crew beyond their normal limits, barking orders and throwing your weight around. Though you may have earned the crew's ire, you also have their respect. Failure on this check counts against the skill challenge, and the lead character takes damage equal twice his or her level and loses healing surges equal to half his or her level. All other characters involved in the skill challenge take a -3 penalty on their next roll, as the crew is resistant to help them.

Perception DC 23 (limit 2 successes) In the distance, you see a landmark you instantly recognize, and notice that your course is a few degrees off. With a whispered word to the captain, you set the course aright. Failure on this check does not count against the skill challenge.

Acrobatics DC 23 (limit 1 success)You scamper up the riggings like a monkey, fixing a block that's come loose, saving hours of work. Success at this check grants a +2 bonus to the adventurer's next skill check. Fialure means the participants each lose one healing surge.

Nature DC 23 (limit 1 success)The country slips underneath you, and your intimate knowledge of the lands below help you avoid a next of gryphons. A few hours of detour save the lives of half the crew. Success on this check grants a +2 bonus to each of the participant's next skill check. Failure means that each participant loses one healing surge.

Thievery DC 23 (limit 1 success)Your knowledge of ropes and knots comes in handy onboard the ship, as new rigging is needed to replace the old, shabby ropes above. Success on this check grants you a +2 bonus to your next Diplomacy, Athletics or Endurance check. Failure means you lose a healing surge.

Development
No matter whether the players succeed or fail, they will eventually reach their destination. However, failure carries with it a terrible price.

Success:After the adventurers have twelve successes, they reach their destination unmolested, and well ahead of schedule.
Failure: If the adventurers fail the skill challenge, they run afoul one of the world's many flying terrors. In this case, a huge swarm of flying jellyfish! They have no chance for a short rest before the encounter begins.

Flying Jellyfish Swarm
Level 9 Skirmisher (400xp)
Gargantuan natural beast (swarm)
Senses: Perception +12, low-light vision
Swarm Attack aura 5; the Flying Jellyfish Swarm makes a basic attack as a free action against each enemy that begins its turn in the aura.
HP96; Bloodied 48
AC 22; Fortitude 20; Reflex 17; Will 21
Resist half damage from melee and ranged attacks; Vulnerable 5 against close and area attacks.
Speed 0; Fly 12 (hover) overland flight 15
Swarm of Tentacles (standard; at will; melee)
+14 vs. Ref; 1d6+7 damage and the target is immobilized.
Alignment Unaligned
Languages -
Str 9, Dex 24, Wis 17, Con 16, Int 8, Cha 10
Equipment None