Undermountain Encounter 2, The Hall of Many Mirrors

The corridor ahead seems to reflect your lights back from many glimmering surfaces, on both walls. All is quiet. Something small is lying on the floor, part way down the corridor.

The thing on the floor is the burnt out stump of a torch. The only reason I can gather that anyone would put this into the room is to get players to wander in, hoping that the small thing is, in fact, a Hackmaster +11 that just happens to be lying on the floor. Today's players will see a fucking torch stump and wonder why whoever was using it didn't bring sun rods.

There are sixteen large, heavy oval glass mirrors in this corridor, eight on each wall. They all look basically the same, though a few are showing signs of wear from being in a dank dungeon for a very long time. Some have a faint aura of magic about them, old protection spells meant to keep the soggy atmosphere of the dungeon from damaging the silver mirror-backs.

Three of the mirrors hang in front of small storage caches. The contents of these caches changes with the seasons. Sometimes creatures leave a little something in one of them to save for later. Sometimes adventurers, believing their goods will be safe in such a cache, leave themselves something to help on the way out. Below, you'll find a chart. Roll to see what your players find in the caches.

Things You'll Find in Undermountain

01-07	A garlic-stuffed, deep-fried rat.	51-57	A jar of dead bees.
08-13	A gem worth 50gp	58-59	A suit of leather armor +1
14-20	A potion of Healing	60-69	Frighteningly well-drawn goblin pornography
21-25	2 leather-bound books. One level 1 ritual.	70-74	A potion of Cure Light Wounds
26-35	A +1 sling	75-83	A gnawed-on dragon-femur (40gp)
36-42	A pile of shiny rocks and a 10gp silver statue	84-88	AD&D Undermountain poster map.
43-45	Poorly drawn goblin pornography (1cp)	89-98	A religious amulet to a dead god
46-50	An amulet of defense +1	99-00	A +2 weapon of the player's choice

 

The westernmost mirror on the north wall is a Mirror of Opposition. In Second Edition, what this basically meant was "Steal your player's character and beat the snot out of her with it." The mirror creates a perfect likeness of the player's character with her stats, her abilities, her armor, her weapons. Then it tries to kill the original. This was terrifying mostly because a single player character was a lot more proficient at the killing of people than any monster in a dungeon. While that's still true in 4^th Edition (even more true, actually), the fact that stat blocks have changed so drastically over the past few editions, makes creating a duplicate of a player character difficult. Add the fact that Dungeon Masters have a hard enough time trying to remember everything in a stat block, let alone look it up in a character sheet that doesn't even belong to them, and you get a trickier situation.

Lucky for us, then, we have the Doppelganger. Now, so far Wizards hasn't really put out a lot of first-level dudes that don't suck. So I was forced to make a few. Below, you'll find stats for copies of each of the main character roles: there's a defender, a controller, a leader and a striker. When a player examines the Mirror of Opposition, a Doppelganger of the appropriate type will come out of the mirror and immediately attack him or her. Whenever another player character is within line-of-sight to the mirror, another creature steps out of the mirror and begins the next round with the initiative.

The mirror has 50 hit points (being a magical artifact, it's tougher than your normal mirror). If it is broken, the Doppelgangers are dazed (save ends) and take a -1 to rolls to hit and all of their defenses. Two more doppelgangers will appear the round after the mirror is broken, also dazed (save ends) but without the -1 to attacks and defenses.

 

Doppelganger Mirror-fighter		Level 1 Soldier
Medium natural humanoid		XP 100
Initiative +2        Senses Perception +0 HP 33; Bloodied 16 AC 20; Fortitude 17; Reflex 10; Will 13 Speed 6
M Bastard Sword (standard; at-will) • Weapon
+8 vs AC; 1d10 + 3
Shapeshifter Feint (minor; at-will)
+4 vs Reflex; the doppelganger gains combat advantage against the target until the end of the doppelganger's next turn.
Change Shape (minor; at-will) • Polymorph
A doppelganger can alter it's physical form to take on the appearance of any Medium humanoid, including a unique individual.
C Doppelganger's Hate (standard; at-will) • Polymorph
Close burst 1; targets all enemies in burst. The targets are marked until the end of the doppelganger's next turn. If a marked creature makes an attack that does not include Doppelganger Mirror-fighter, as an immediate interrupt, the doppelganger may slide that creature one square.
Alignment Unaligned		Languages —
Str 16 (+3)	Dex 10 (+0)		Wis 10 (+0)
Con 10 (+0)	Int 10 (+0)		Cha 10 (+0)
Doppelganger Mirrormage		Level 1 Artillery
Medium natural humanoid		XP 100
Initiative –1        Senses Perception +3 HP 22; Bloodied 11 AC 13; Fortitude 11; Reflex 13; Will 14 Speed 6
m Mace (standard; at-will) • Weapon
+6 vs AC; 1d8 + -1 damage
r Dark Blast (standard; at-will) • Implement, Necrotic
Ranged 10; +7 vs Reflex; 1d10 + 3 necrotic damage, or 2d6 + 4 necrotic damage against a target at full normal hit points
C Cursebite (standard; encounter) • Implement, Necrotic
Close burst 20; targets cursed enemies; +4 vs Fortitude; 2d6 + 4 necrotic damage
Curse (standard; at-will)
The Claw doppelganger darkmage curses the nearest noncursed enemy. The curse lasts until the end of the encounter. Once per round when the darkmage hits a cursed enemy, it can deal that enemy 1d6 extra damage.
Darkmage Fanatic (when the claw doppelganger darkmage drops to 0 hit points)
The Claw doppelganger darkmage makes a basic attack
Change Shape (minor; at-will) • Polymorph
A doppelganger can alter its physical form to take on the appearance of any Medium humanoid, including a unique individual (see Monster Manual, page 280)
Alignment Evil		Languages Common, Elven, Goblin
Skills Arcana +7, Intimidate +8
Str 8 (–1)	Dex 8 (–1)		Wis 7 (–2)
Con 10 (+0)	Int 14 (+2)		Cha 16 (+3)
Equipment Mace, Rod Implement

 

Doppelganger Mirrorpriest		Level 1 Lurker
Medium natural humanoid		XP 100
Initiative +7        Senses Perception +0 HP 22; Bloodied 11 AC 15; Fortitude 13; Reflex 14; Will 13 Speed 6
M Mace (standard; at-will) • Weapon
+6 vs AC; 1d10 + 3 damage
C Fleshknit (standard; encounter) • Healing
Close burst 1; targets allies within burst; targets gain 1d6+5 hit points, plus an additional 1d4 if bloodied.
C Skinsculpt (standard; at-will)
Close burst 1; targets one ally in burst; target gains 1d6 hit points.
Alignment Unaligned		Languages —
Str 10 (+0)	Dex 16 (+3)		Wis 10 (+0)
Con 10 (+0)	Int 10 (+0)		Cha 10 (+0)

 

Doppelganger Mirror-rogue		Level 1 Skirmisher
Medium natural humanoid		XP 100
Initiative +4        Senses Perception +0 HP 28; Bloodied 14 AC 16; Fortitude 12; Reflex 13; Will 14 Speed 6
m Short Sword (standard; at-will) • Weapon
+6 vs AC; 1d6 + 3 damage
M Shapeshifter Feint (minor; at-will)
+4 vs Reflex; the doppelganger gains combat advantage against the target until the end of the doppelganger's next turn
Combat Advantage
The doppelganger sneak deals an extra 1d6 damage against any target it has combat advantage against.
Change Shape (minor; at-will) • Polymorph
A doppelganger can alter its physical form to take on the appearance of any Medium humanoid, including a unique individual .
Alignment Unaligned		Languages Common
Skills Bluff +9, Insight +7, Stealth +7
Str 10 (+0)	Dex 15 (+2)		Wis 11 (+0)
Con 12 (+1)	Int 9 (–1)		Cha 14 (+2)
Equipment Short sword
© 2009 Wizards of the Coast LLC, a subsidiary of Hasbro, Inc. All rights reserved. This monster statistics block has been generated using the D&D Adventure Tools.

Comments on a Theme, And a Favor Mechanic

So I'm on a bit of a design kick this week. First the World-god, then The Role-playing Game About Role-playing Games, now I want to talk about rewarding in-theme play on the fly. I've been watching The Wire this week, and it's my first time. Yes, I know that means I'm living in a time before electric lights or the lever, but I don't have cable, I don't _want_ cable, so I usually end up seeing these sorts of things well after everyone else has.

The thing that has struck me as most important to The Wire, and indeed all television (and perhaps all stories ever) is that it sticks to its themes in a very close way. When you're watching the show, you get a very real sense of the policing institutions in Baltimore breaking down around the city's ears. This theme, the dysfunction of the system, is something that the series would be completely hollow without.

Sometimes stories need to adhere to themes. A lot of role-playing games pay some lip-service to thematic elements, talking about how it's typically the Game Master's responsibility to present those themes in his or her descriptions of events, characters and locations. But themes in fiction are more pervasive that that; they make the characters who they are, and they dictate, to some degree or another, how those characters are going to act in certain situations. So how do you motivate your players to stay on-theme?

Well, pretty much the same way you motivate your players to do damned near anything else: carrot or stick. You can try and motivate them with rewards, or you can punish them for doing things that are against the theme. Personally, I prefer to bribe my players to do things, as they resent bribes less than they resent getting slapped around for doing something they want to do. If you make them want to do things in-theme, and they'll do those things without complaint.

So then you get to the question of "Well, how do I motivate my players to behave in a way consistent with a dysfunctional policing system?" It's not easy, because a lot of times, acting in a way consistent with a dysfunctional policing system... Well, sucks. You're going to do things that are not good. You're going to do things that are frustrating. You're going to do things that put your character into situations that suck. So you're going to need a pretty kick-ass reward system, and it can't be something that breaks the game.

Buffy The Vampire Slayer, by the good kids at Eden Games, had a pretty amazing dramatic editing system that rewarded players for being in shitty situations. Xander got kidnapped by the Big Bad who is trying to get him to reveal Buffy's most secretest weaknesses? Xander gets himself a drama point, letting him do some really awesome stuff later (such as survive getting batted around by said Big Bad). That works in a system that's all about Teh Story, but it's less great for things like, well, The Wire. The Wire is not a dramatic show; it's very gritty and realistic. So what to do, what to do...

Something that fits within the theme of The Wire is the idea of Favors. When you do something for someone, that someone owes you a favor. When something happens to you that sucks, when you act in a way that is on-theme, someone owes you a favor. In particular, the Game Master owes you a favor. And there's no one more powerful in terms of Favor-granting than the Game Master.

Favors

Favors are the currency of politics. When you do something for someone, it isn't forgotten. If ever you do someone a favor and they renege on their responsibility to return it, you are perfectly in your rights to completely fuck with that person for the rest of his or her gods-given life. It is within someone's best interest to cash in the favors he or she owes, lest he or she get caught in a political shit-storm regarding those pictures he or she took with that little boy in Thailand.

Player characters start off as bad-asses in the world, and as such, some people owe them something big. Each player's character starts off with three Favor Points. Favor Points may be traded in for special treatment or assistance when it's needed. Different favors are worth different amounts of points. The more powerful the person you are calling on for the favor, the more points it costs. The more difficult or dangerous or expensive the favor, the more points it costs. Let's look at a chart!

Favor Difficulty	Favor Point Cost
Easy	1
Average	2
Difficult	3
Very Difficult	6
Dangerous	12

 

Who Owes You?	Multiplier
Peasant, Civilian, Street Bum, Average Joe	/2, round down, minimum 1
Merchant, Union Leader, Your Boss	0
Minor Noble, Your Boss' Boss, An Old Rival	x2
Ranking Noble, CEO of the Company, An Old Enemy	x3
Prince, A Current Enemy, A Mob Boss, An Ex-spouse	x4
The King, A Mortal Enemy, The Mob Boss' Boss, Your Ex-mother-in-law	x5
A Demon or Wizard, God, The Dungeon Master	All of Them

 

So if you want a Dangerous Favor (dangerous as determined by the character being asked for the favor, mind, not by you) from the Crown Prince of the Awesome Kingdom, it's going to cost you 60 some Favor Points. To rack up that many Favor Points, you're going to have to o through some shit. Serious shit. World-altering, nuts-in-a-vice shit. But if you need that guy who sells dope on the corner to stand in front of you while people start shooting, well it's going to cost you 6. That you can do after a few sessions, if your life sucks. And if you're trying to capture the feeling of gritty urban dysfunction, your life is probably crap.

A few notes: This system is mostly built as an add-on to role-playing bits. You want something done; you're going to need to convince these people that you need their help. Sometimes, they aren't going to want to help you, no matter how many Favor Points you have in your pool. People have their own shit going on, and most of the time that shit isn't "Huh… I wonder how I can best help that guy who helped me do that thing one time."

Favors are trades. When you gain a favor point, you did something for someone, and doing that thing sucked. It may have happened off-camera, but you did it, and the person you did it for is going to remember it. Alternatively, someone you know needs to do something, and that thing is going to suck for you pretty bad. They owe you for that, and they'll pay up. The same goes for them, though; if you're going to be using a favor point system, understand that sometimes someone is going to try and call in a favor, and if you don't deliver, it's putting your reputation on the line. You don't want to be the guy who doesn't return favors. That guy gets really lonely (or really dead) really fast.

Favor Points are usually a response to some really shitty thing happening to you. This is pretty similar to the way Buffy The Vampire Slayer characters regain their Drama Points. Sometimes bad things happen to good people. The reward for bad things happening to you is that you get a Favor Point. Someone has fucked the pooch and the pooch fucked you, so now someone owes you. You don't get favor points for breathing. If you show up to your session and bad shit does not happen to you, or you do not agree to do something you're going to hate doing, well then you don't get any favor points. These are handed out at the DM's discretion.

Gold, and a Game About Gaming

So I can't claim I'm a fan of Gold, but I wish I was. It's a cute concept: a group of professional RPG gamers deal with the trials and tribulations of their sports-star lifestyles. They deal with sponsorship issues and injuries, their romantic relationships infringing on their professional lives, rival teams, and whatever else they deal with after the fifth or sixth episode (when I stopped watching). There are some sad attempts at humor, but the series mostly takes itself pretty seriously, which I think is a rather big mistake with this sort of series.

Regardless, this isn't a post about a web-series. If you like it, don't think that my views on it constitute anything even close to a valid opinion on the topic. It is, however, an interesting idea.

As with the World Carved from the Bones of a Dead God, the show sparked an idea when mixed with another idea. Ian was in, talking about the Most Meta Game Ever, something Zak ran over the weekend that he called Final Strike or some such. The premise was basically this: build half of a character sheet, using whatever dice systems, attributes and concepts you like; do this in complete isolation, without input from any of the other players; then, assume that you've been playing a role-playing game with these characters for the past thirteen years, and this is the final session; fight the final boss, save the kingdom, win the world. Now, that's pretty bad-ass as meta-gaming goes, but when someone's like "This was the Most X Thing Ever," in regards to role-playing games, I take it as something of a personal challenge. So I got to thinking: A role-playing game that's actually ABOUT role-playing games would be the best way to make a Supermeta RPG. So how would one go about doing that?

First off, I'm thinking you need to find a way to separate the Real Life elements of the game from the Competition parts of the game. To steal from games that don't suck, I think the two-turn structure of Mouse Guard and Burning Wheel could do some double-duty here. I'm thinking have a Real Life Turn, and a Competition Turn, each that lasts the span of a few challenges. So Real Life challenges would be stuff like "Dealing with Clark's developing heroin addiction, Alec's girlfriend cheating on him and Suzie's love affair with... Well... Sarah..." Competition Turn stuff would be "Defeat the GM, kick the other team's ass, and steal the madest lootz." The turns can be done in whichever order the players like, but things that happen in one turn will effect the other turn; so if your real-life challenges suck a bunch, and your mom dies and you're depressed and your girlfriend is being a douche and everything about your life sucks right now, you're not going to be playing your A-game. If your game is going terribly, your rolls have been pure suck, your teammates aren't getting along, the Fighter's been stealing all the spotlight and the GM hates you, it's going to bleed over into your real life. This is, after all, your livelihood.

Stats would look, to begin with anyway, very game-related. Your Character is a stat, for instance. Your knowledge of the rules, also a stat. How you manage to make those things work in your real life is entirely up to you. The stats look as such:

Character (type) ____
Rules ____
Problem Solving ____
Rolls ____
Method (type) ____
Spotlight ____

Your stats are measured in the size of the die you attribute to them. So a stat that sucks gets to be a d4. A stat that you rock at in ways no one else rocks is a d20. There are six different types of dice (not counting the percentile d10, which we will disregard), and six stats. For those who have only ever played games that use ten-sided dice, the types are thus: d4, d6, d8, d10, d12, d20. Assign them as you please.

Character is a measure of how kick-ass your characters are, how well you min-max, and how much familiarity you have with playing a character of that class. The (type) line of a character is the character's class. Choose between Fighter, Mage, Thief and Cleric. When there is more than one character of a specific class in a party, the players of those characters get a +2 bonus to Character Rolls. If a class is missing from a party, all characters get a -4 penalty to Character Rolls.

Rules is how well you know the rules of the game, errata, minutia, and how much rules-lawyering you can get away with.

Problem Solving shows how quickly your character works through challenges.

Rolls is an indicator of how lucky your character is. Does he roll twenties, and roll them all the time? Or does he roll crit fail after crit fail?

Method is a descriptor of the type of role-playing you're most proficient and interested in. The types of methods are Gamist, Narrativist and Simulationist. Gamist play is all about "winning the game," dealing with rules and manipulating them for a fun gaming experience. Narrativist gaming is all about the story, compelling characters and awesome experiences. Simulationist play tries to emulate reality to the closest point possible. I understand that this is a terrible bastardization of GNS theory, and I'm totally alright with that. ^_^

The Dice Mechanic

The GM sets a stat to challenge, and a number that you have to meet or beat to succeed in the check. You roll the die associated with that stat on your character sheet. If you meet or beat the difficulty number, you succeed on the check. If you don't, you fail the check.

After that, there are Traits, that are rather like the traits from Mouse Guard, because Mouse Guard uses some damned fine traits. Traits are both good things and bad things. If you happen to be an obese son'bitch, that serves in your favor in some situations, and not so well in others. How you decide to use your traits (as a bonus or a flaw) is up to you, with the following restriction: you can only use a trait as a positive as often as you've used it as a negative this session. So if it isn't getting in the way, it isn't helping you out either. If you take a Trait like Angry, and you want to get some righteous anger on in your Competition Turn, you'd best have gotten mad at your teammates for something stupid during the Real Life turn. You can bank negative uses, if you like. A positive use of a trait gives you a +3 bonus to any roll. A negative use of a trait gives you a -5 penalty to any roll. For now, just pick a descriptive word (any descriptive word) and make that a trait. Choose three of those.

There are three "derived stats." At the beginning of your first session, roll your Character die and your Spotlight die. The total rolled will be your Hit Points. Roll your Rules die and your Problem Solving die. The total rolled will be your Stress. Roll your Method die and your Rolls die. The total rolled will be your Drama. Each of these numbers is the total amount of "damage" you can take before you "break." Each stat starts at 0/total. So if you roll a total of 7 in Hit Points, you start with 0/7 hit point damage. When you reach 7 hit point damage, you break.

Damage is dealt when you fail a check. If you fail a check in Character or Spotlight, you will take 1 Hit Point damage. If you fail a check in Rules or Problem Solving, you will take one Stress damage. If you fail a roll in Method or Rolls, you will take one Drama damage. Each type of damage will break your character in different ways. Hit Point breaks will cause your character to hesitate at key moments. Each time you break in hit points, the GM can force you to _not_ take an action that you wish to take. Stress breaks will make your character take brash actions that you would normally not take. Any time you break in wish to take an action (or not take an action), the GM can force you to take that action in the angriest way possible. Drama breaks cause your character to act in one of two ways: he or she can become a whiny bitch at the worst possible times, or he or she can become a back-stabbing asshole at the worst possible times. You can choose which you prefer, and the GM can force you to act in that way, targeting the person or situation most recently responsible for your Drama.

When a character breaks, remove all of that type of damage from him or her. A character can have more than one break of each type.

The Turns

During the Real Life turn, the GM will present the party with a series of "real life" challenges. The nature of those challenges is largely up to the GM, the players, the character's back-stories and the like. Each challenge is addressed by a single character, with the other characters taking an secondary role for the duration. During a single session, a character cannot be the main character in a challenge twice. Each challenge should require an amount of role-playing, and the rolling of one or more stat. Secondary players in a challenge may also roll to help the main character in a challenge, so long as they describe how they are helping. If a secondary player succeeds on his or her check, the main player gets a +1 bonus on his or her roll. If a secondary player fails, he or she takes one damage of the appropriate type, and the main player takes a -1 penalty to the roll.

During the Competition Turn, players may attempt to rid themselves of damage. Competition is something the players enjoy, it's a way to blow off steam and have some fun. Each success during the Competition Turn eliminates one point of the appropriate type of damage. If a character has no damage, but has broken, they have a chance to get rid of the break by rolling a "critical" on a check (the highest number that can be rolled on that type of die, so 4 for a d4, or a 10 for a d10, or a 20 for a d20). The higher the die, the less likely the character will be able to eliminate a break; they're better at that type of challenge, but getting over the defeat is a lot harder when it's something you're particularly good at.

During the Real Life turn, the GM sets out a challenge to which the players react. During the Competition turn, the players set out a goal, to which the GM sets a challenge.

Progression

There really isn't much in the way of progression, here. The point is that you're already playing world-class gamers, sports stars. This is a potential flaw in the design. It may be better as a one-shot game or as a few sessions to cover a story arc.

Anyhow, that's my take on The Most Meta Game Ever. ^_^

Undermountain Encounter 1

 
Two broad steps lead down into a widening room crowded with a forest of stone pillars. Archways can be seen in its northern, western, and southern walls. Something metallic glints on the floor, among the many stone pillars.

This is the first room of any note in the original Undermountain campaign. There is a single piece of gold lying on the floor, and a rat that scurries away to the north. That's not an encounter, ladies and gentlemen, that's barely worth note. So we're going to beef this up a little bit. I'm saying, corpse of a dude lying on the floor, and a Dire Rat, a couple of Giant Rats and a Rat Swarm are feasting down. There are skeletons, as well, picked clean by the rats already. They're not the get-up-and-stab-a-dude sort of skeletons, they're just some dead people.

 

Dire Rat (D)		Level 1 Brute
Medium natural beast		XP 100
Initiative +2        Senses Perception +5; low-light vision HP 38; Bloodied 19 AC 15; Fortitude 15; Reflex 13; Will 11 Immune filth fever Speed 6 , Climb 3
m Bite (standard; at-will)
+4 vs AC; 1d6 + 2 damage, and the target contracts filth fever
Alignment Unaligned		Languages —
Skills Stealth +7
Str 14 (+2)	Dex 15 (+2)		Wis 10 (+0)
Con 18 (+4)	Int 3 (–4)		Cha 6 (–2)

 

Giant Rat (G)		Level 1 Minion
Small natural beast		XP 25
Initiative +3        Senses Perception +5; low-light vision HP 1; a missed attack never damages a minion. AC 15; Fortitude 13; Reflex 15; Will 12 Speed 6 , Climb 3
m Bite (standard; at-will)
+6 vs AC; 3 damage
Alignment Unaligned		Languages —
Str 12 (+1)	Dex 17 (+3)		Wis 10 (+0)
Con 12 (+1)	Int 2 (–4)		Cha 6 (–2)

 

Rat Swarm (S)		Level 2 Skirmisher
Medium natural beast		XP 125
Initiative +6        Senses Perception +6; low-light vision Swarm Attack aura 1; the rat swarm makes a basic attack as a free action against each enemy that begins its turn in the aura. HP 36; Bloodied 18 AC 15; Fortitude 12; Reflex 14; Will 11 Resist half damage from melee and ranged attacks; Vulnerable 5 damage from close and area attacks Speed 4 , Climb 2
m Swarm of Teeth (standard; at-will)
+6 vs AC; 1d6 + 3 damage, and ongoing 3 damage (save ends)
Alignment Unaligned		Languages —
Str 12 (+2)	Dex 17 (+4)		Wis 10 (+1)
Con 12 (+2)	Int 2 (–3)		Cha 9 (+0)

 

Now, this encounter is a lot like this past Wednesday's D&DE: U encounter. There were some rats, and people killed them, and it was good. If you've got a well-balanced party, it isn't a terrifying encounter by any stretch of the imagination, but if your party lacks some form of close blast or burst attacks, the swarm gets very crazy. I took out a player, and another almost bit it. This encounter doesn't have a clay golem thingy making psychic attacks all over the damned place, but that's probably for the best. Being dazed while there's an aura attack running around is no fun at all.

I wish I had some way to rebuild the maps from the Undermountain Map pack here. I can't wait for that functionality on the Adventure Tools package. Instead, I was forced to use Campaign Cartographer 3, which is a lovely program in nearly every way, except that it's damned near impossible to figure out just by winging it. You'd think there would be an easier way to make a fucking map, guys...

In this encounter, the location of the pillars doesn't matter much to the rats. Set them up however you like.The rats aren't really going to use the pillars to their advantage, anyway. They're just going to attack the first thing that looks like something worth eating. Which of course means the creatures that are not covered in plate armor. They'll try and get at the squishy controllers and maybe the strikers first, but they'll change their targets as the marks start to fly.

The half-eaten guy has 10 gold pieces on him, some useless armor (it didn't do him much good, anyway…), a long-sword, and a torch. The skeletons each have three gold pieces on them, and there are four skeletons.

Lava Children

So this is in response to Zak Smith's awesome posts on monsters from the original Monster Manual. I love the idea of "lava children," though to me the term conjures a troop of adorable, baby-shaped lava elementals. They're not evil, per se, but they're full of the terrifying glee of children with a lighter and a coloring book. They don't mean to burn down your house, but sometimes there's just no stopping the little bastards. I apologize for the strange formatting my blog forces on creature stat-blocks.

Lava Children		Level 4 Skirmisher
Small elemental humanoid		XP 175
Initiative +8        Senses Perception +3 HP 44; Bloodied 22 AC 21; Fortitude 16; Reflex 20; Will 13 Speed 6
C Fire Frolic (standard; at-will) • Fire
The cherubic forms dance and play in the magma, spraying hot liquid rock all about them.
Burst 3; +7 vs Reflex; 1d10 + 4 and ongoing 5 fire
R Magma Splash (standard; at-will) • Fire
The small creature lashes out, a gob of hot lava hurtling towards its target.
Ranged 10; +9 vs AC; 2d8 + 4 and ongoing 5 fire.
Play (no action; aura)
Lava Children gain a +1 bonus to attack rolls for each Lava Child that is adjacent to it.
Alignment Unaligned		Languages —
Str 12 (+3)	Dex 18 (+6)		Wis 12 (+3)
Con 12 (+3)	Int 12 (+3)		Cha 12 (+3)
© 2009 Wizards of the Coast LLC, a subsidiary of Hasbro, Inc. All rights reserved. This monster statistics block has been generated using the D&D Adventure Tools.

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

The Bones of a Dead God

Creativity is a strange thing. I'm not really a creative person, or at least I don't think of myself as one. Most of the time, when I have a kick-ass idea, it's because I've stolen ideas from other people and changed them around to fit whatever it is I'm doing. As a Games Master, you need to steal ideas. The hunger for new ideas is great, and the process of creativity is so incredibly slow that, to fill in the gaps, you need to occasionally beg, borrow and steal. So when someone posts a great idea like The Gigadungeon, I of course straight-jack it from the lovely and talented Zak Sabbath. And when the good folks at Wizards of the Coast write a pretty cool dungeon idea like the Astral Corpse (Open Grave, pp. 120), I try and think of a way I could make that work in a campaign.

Then something strange happens. The two things come together in a way that is unexpected. The whole world is a dungeon, eh? The dungeon is the corpse of a dead god, eh? The whole world is the corpse of a dead god...? Oh that's good. A little squishy, though... The world-dungeon is carved from the bones of a dead god? Better... The whole world is carved from the bones of a dead god. Perfect.

So now I'm working on that. I've got this cute little map of the bones in a human body, and I will be adding a few bones such as shattered wingbones, and horns in places people shouldn't have horns. I don't have much in the way of the setting fleshed out, but I do have a general idea of how I want the campaign to run.

The players begin in the typical fantasy village of Ratella (on the Right Patella, see how clever I am? Praise me.). It's a small farming community, protected by the Tibian Mountains on one side and the thick Femural Forests on the other. Femural Elves live to the north, the Tibian Goblins to the South, and to the south-east are the Fibular Badlands, a place no one goes unless they absolutely have to. It is a place to be feared. Across the mountains are the Tarsil Bloodmarsh and the Metarsil Lava Flats; none of the villagers who have ever gone there have ever come back. Beyond the forest, who knows?

Well, I do, because I'm inventing this world as I go. The Pelvic Grasslands lead to the Sacrum Caveland, which leads to the Spine of the World, a huge broken cliff-face that leads under the Mad King's Cage, huge pillars of stone that jut impossibly high into the air. Small land-bridges lead to the bases of the pillars; this is where the dragons roost and hunt. Atop the Worldcage is the city of Sternum, an enormous place that towers high above and low below the earth. There are ways to reach the city from the Spine of the World, but they are nearly as treacherous as the Mad King's Cage. To the north of the city is the Clavicle Cliffs, huge bluffs that, common wisdom holds, are the end of the world. Walking along these, one can find the Humerous Desert, which isn't very funny at all. This leads to the Ulnar Plains, the home of the dwarves, and the Radial Marsh, the kingdom of monsters. The Carple Islands trail off into the Mecarple Archipellago. From there, there is only ocean.

If one were to climb down the Clavicle Cliffs (which few have ever done), one would find a small landbridge to the biggest dungeon in the world, the Skull (read: Undermountain, but less capricious fun). It is rumored that, somewhere deep in the skull, is an ancient artifact that could revive the dead god that the world is made from, an artifact that many a death cult would pay hefty prices to get their hands on.

I figure the Bones of the Dead God would be most appropriate for the whole of the Heroic Tier, while dealing with the inter-planar fallout of the god waking up would make for a good Paragon plotline, and re-killing said god would take up the whole of Epic. This one plot hook could take you from first through thirtieth with ease. ^_^

Undermountain in Fourth

So I've been talking to my friend Ian at the store, and he's pretty enamored of the idea of bringing a classic D&D campaign to life using the 4th Edition rules. Now, I've heard about this sort of thing being tried before, to various degrees of success and failure, so I figured I would weigh in on the issue here.

There are a few problems translating an old school D&D adventure into a new school D&D adventure. The first, and probably the most terrifying, is that the systems were designed to do very different things. First and Second edition D&D was very, very deadly for player characters. This came out of the mindset of the miniature war-gaming crews, where simulation and gaming came before any sort of story or plot (GNS Theory is a discussion for another time). There are still a lot of role-playing games that are built that way, and as the old school renaissance picks up, we'll be seeing a lot MORE of that sort of thing. New school D&D, though, has shifted focus. This isn't about a rag-tag group of adventurers wading through a dungeon in search of riches and glory; it's about a bunch of bad-ass heroes saving princess and beating the face off a dragon. 

And that's where the first bit of trouble comes from in translating something like Undermountain to a new school mind-set. Your players aren't playing a bunch of seven-hit-point blood bags, here. They kick ass straight out the gate and continue to kick ever-mightier ass as they rack up the XP and gain a few levels. You can't kill a wizard with a pit trap anymore, because the amount of damage taken from the fall isn't greater than the amount of hit points the wizard could have in the first place (if I remember correctly, the Wizard got 1d4 hit points at first level, and a 10-foot fall caused 1d6 damage). In fact, without an encounter built around them, traps are pretty blah. 

Which comes to the second point: encounters. Old school D&D wasn't exactly light on the encounters. You'd probably end up in a fight every second room or so, plus wandering monsters on a bunch of wandering monster tables. In 4th, every encounter is a painstakingly crafted thing, with traps and hazards and choke points and blasts and all sorts of crazy bullshit happening. To make a room matter in a 4th Edition Campaign, it needs to have some sort of encounter or skill challenge going on. One of the cool things Wizards of the Coast did in D&D Encounters: Undermountain chapter one is that they made the whole fucking dungeon a skill challenge. Only the rooms that really mattered were given any sort of detail, the rest were handwaved as the party tried to wend their way through Undermountain's hazardous halls. You can't do that in an old school campaign, and to keep Undermountain's flavor in a conversion, you can't really get away with that either. Instead, each area needs to involve some sort of challenge to be worth checking out, which means that for a map as huge as Undermountain's, you're looking at an overwhelming amount of work. For every possible branch of the halls your players might take, you have to plan that they might go there instead of the way that actually matters... Exhausting. 

D&D4 is a very linear game in it's encounter progression. Each encounter is designed to be a challenge, without being overwhelming for the players. Undermountain is a place designed by a mad god who is actively trying to destroy you for his own amusement. That occasionally means getting out of that linear encounter design process and throwing a 12th-level horror at your players, hoping they're smart enough to run the fuck away. In 4th, that's tough; there's an expectation that each encounter is roughly winnable. You may win dragging the corpses of your dead friends with you as you strike the final blow, but goddammit you can win. That expectation is not the players' fault, either; it's something that D&D4 actively cultivates, the idea that with a little sweat and perspiration, the player characters can overcome pretty much anything the DM chooses to throw at them.

My suggestions to combat some of these things were thus:

1. Get together a bunch of room obstacle ideas. When the player characters enter a room, figure out what they're fighting, then place the obstacles in the room.
2. Make up the list of encounters, and have those encounters take place in whatever room the player characters end up in. 
3. Traps need to steal healing surges. Various levels of traps should steal different amounts of healing surges. In fact, the level of the trap should be the number of surges it takes. Fifth level trap? Lose five surges. When surges are reduced to zero or less by a trap, that character will die.
4. Do not let the player characters take an extended rest. Extended rests are for assholes. This is what Wandering Monsters are for. 
5. There should be a few Safe Rooms in the dungeon that the player characters can actually get an extended rest in. Those should be few and far between.

1. There are a lot of fucking rooms in Undermountain. Some of them are pretty well-established already (the hall of mirrors, for instance). Most are not. So come up with a list of a few things each room might possibly have including: hazards (hazardous terrain, fire, pit traps, a sandblaster, radioactive acid-goo, an R.A. Salvator novel), choke points (bridges, bottlenecks, balconies from which enemies can shoot, dangerous ledges, spaces they'll need to squeeze through), things that make movement difficult (move three or more squares on this sort of ground, make an acrobatics check or fall prone; climb this ledge to get to the baddies; a boatload of difficult terrain; creatures that can slow player characters at a distance), and that sort of thing. Keep in mind that different creatures fight in different ways, so you'll want to know what your party is up against before placing hazards into a room. Which leads into...

2. You can give your players the illusion of choice in their encounters if you want to, while still knowing exactly what their characters are going to fight next. Whether they choose door A or door B doesn't matter; they'll be fighting two fire badgers and a splicks when they get into the next room. You can even have a few of these encounters pre-planned if you like; when they enter Room 6A, they get to fight a White Dragon, sure. Regardless, have your encounters written up, and only place the ones where position really matters. The rest, just do them in the order they're written on your sheet. 

3. Again, stealing from the good folks at Wizards of the Coast, the "Undermountain as a Skill Challenge" encounter was brutal for one very clear reason: when someone failed a skill check, people lost healing surges. After three encounters, surges are becoming a prized commodity. To have them heartlessly shorn from you for failing at a skill is devestating. So yes, there are rooms in which there should be skill challenges, and when you fail at those skill challenges, you face a debilitating penalty (oh, I'm sorry, your daily powers will not be recharged on your next extended rest...). When you go traipsing down a corridor without checking for traps, you could very well die. This brings traps back in a huge way; they're not just some thing you put in to add some flavor to an encounter, they're a menace in their own right again. 

4. Extended rest fucks with the DM's day. Every time the party gets to recharge all of their healing surges, all of their daily powers, all of their hit points, all of everything, the next couple of challenges are a cakewalk. So fuck extended rest, and fuck the people who take them more than once per session. Push your player characters. When they try and sleep in a fucking hallway, send a monster after them. They want to try and make the room they're in safe to sleep in? Well, that'll take some rolling. Sure hope a beholder doesn't come down the hall to see what all the sawing and hammering's about... 

5. This is actually Ian's idea, and it's a good one. There are a few places, even in Undermountain, where you can recover, get some rest, take a nap if you need one and get ready for the rest of the evil. They're few and they're far between, and they're usually behind secret doors and shit, but they're around. Sometimes you'll need to clear out whatever was making the room safe, of course...

So now I want to try it out, and see how it runs. I'll keep you posted on progress.

Glitterdust

So in looking through the new Player's Handbook and Dungeon Master's Guide, it occurred to me that this blog's namesake spell did not make it into the list of Wizard class abilities. I'm sure they're saving it for the Bard (whenever the new Bard makes an appearance; I hope they take a page from the Wheel of Time RPG and make them more like Gleeman and less like a Warlord with spells...). Still, I can't let the place go without it's spell, so here's my take on it:

Glitterdust - Warlock/Wizard/Bard Attack 3
You raise your hand, and a fine silvery dust falls through the air. It clings to everything it touches, even eyes; it makes the invisible seen, and the seeing blind.
Daily * Arcane, Illusion
Standard Action - Area burst 2 within 10 squares
Target: Each creature in burst
Attack: Intelligence vs. Reflex
Hit: The creature is blinded (save ends).
Effect: Creatures in the burst that are invisible become visible and cannot become invisible again until the end of the encounter.

Vampire: The Requiem

So I recently started playing Vampire: The Requiem with a new group (and by new, I mean, they've played maybe once; some of them have never played at all). It's nice to be back in the comfy chair. Seeing the looks on people's faces when something cool or dangerous happens to their character, seeing the investment each player has made in the "storyteller" characters and the plot, and reading the next day about how awesome the game was (on facebook), all bring me back to a happy Games place.

Also, Dungeons and Dragons' fourth edition came out a couple of weeks ago, and it's taken over my brain. We'll be alternating between D&D4 and V:TR for a while, until we get a good feel for the group and the group dynamics, which game we like better, and just how long I can keep a Vampire chronicle going without killing everyone in my Machiavellian schemes...

Dramatis Personae


Kyra - Susannah, Ventrue, innocent.
Holly - Sara, Nosferatu, neurotic.
Jess - Vanessa, Daeva, cold
Taylor - Camilla, Gangrel, stoic
Joey - Dante, Gangrel, blood-thirsty
Ian - Allen, Mekhet, hermitou
Megan - Selene, Ventrue, silent
Kris (Storyteller)
- Marcus, Baron of Old Strathcona
- Heather, Baron of Jasper Place
- Ian, Baron of Mill Woods
- Iris, Vanessa's assistant
- The Matron
- Josepha, Sara's sire
- The creepy baseball-card guy
- Mike, a vampire in Heather's court

The Plot Thus Far

Edmonton is a growing city. The oil brings the companies, the companies bring the jobs, the jobs bring people, and people bring parasites. Kindred from all over the North American west have made dangerous treks to relocate in the booming city, leading to a population crisis, and increase in abandoned childer, and an unstable political situation.

Susannah is a neonate, abandoned by her careless sire who used her in a fit of passion and cast her aside. The Matron, appointed by Prince Zahir to care for young neonates much as a nanny might care for discarded children, takes the girl under her wing. She has Sara, a friend-of-a-friend, accompany the young one to The Bank, where Vanessa can prepare her better for her requiem.

The Matron is not the only one with interest in Susannah. Marcus, Baron of Old Strathcona, employs the hermit information broker Allen to discover what he can of Susannah's existence, her origin, and what she may mean to the Prince. Ian, the Baron of Mill Woods, hires two lone-wolf gangrel to kill her, kill her sire, and burn down the Black Dog Pub while they're at it. Masked men try to gun her down. Gypsies have her kidnapped. Lupines capture her in her sleep so that she can be bargained away to the city Kindred... Who is this girl, and what does she mean to (or for) the established power, that so many would give so much to have/kill her?

I will be writing more on this as we play. I may write something about the themes and undertones of the series (I'm thinking primarily abandonment and agency - in a post-modern sense - but we'll see how it goes).