Proper Villainy Profiles: The Joker

I had the pleasure of seeing The Dark Knight over the weekend. I'd been looking forward to this one because I'd heard that Heath Ledger's performance as the Joker was completely amazing, and he didn't disappoint. TDK's Joker was a standout example of what a real villain ought to be -- and you can take some of his complete batshit insanity (no pun intended) and use it with some of your villains. Let's take a look:

***** POSSIBLE SPOILER ALERT!!! IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE DARK KNIGHT, DON'T READ ANY FURTHER!!! *****

Chaotic Evil With A Side Order Of Insanity

If ever you were wondering what the difference between Lawful Evil and Chaotic Evil is, the Joker's your poster boy for Chaotic Evil. Whatever he does, it's to suit whatever plans he has. Granted, not all Chaotic Evil people have desires as sick and twisted as our purple-suited antagonist, but it does show that Chaotic Evil-aligned people don't so much care about how they accomplish their goals or who has to die.

Just being Chaotic Evil isn't what makes the Joker so frightening. Think about it for a second. Just because you're evil doesn't necessarily make you motivated. I'm sure most of us have known people over the years who really wanted to do some bad things to get their way, but they were too scared to. The Joker's got that motivation somehow. The scary part is what he's motivated to do. And most don't find out what that is until it's way too late.

Why So Serious?

Though the Joker has been portrayed in a variety of ways over the years, the main thing that separated him from most of the other Bat-villains (especially after the 80's, when they really started to turn up the homicidal cuckoo) is that he's not really after anything aside from chaos and mayhem. Yeah, he might rob a bank, but you can bet he's going to use all of that loot to fund some sort of scheme that will sow the seeds of terror in the streets of Gotham somehow. As Alfred says during the movie, "Some men just want to see the world burn."

That's scary stuff. That means that you can't reason with a person like this. You can't make them go away by giving them what they want. If you give them what they want, horrible things happen to you and your loved ones and their loved ones and your dog and their dogs and probably their dogs' friends and everyone's neighbors. People like this love to see others suffer, and probably the single scariest thing about TDK's Joker is that he lives to see people corrupted and to make themselves and their loved ones suffer. It's like he can make a Diplomacy check gone horribly, horribly wrong, and if he succeeds then you've crossed the line where you're not sure if you're a good person anymore.

This maniac was born to tear places and people down, and he's frighteningly good at it. Somehow he's charismatic (or frightening enough) enough to have a bunch of minions following him. He makes unbelievably effective plans to accomplish his insane goals, probably due in part to the fact that he doesn't need to have an exit strategy most of the time. Nobody's quite sure if he even cares if he lives or dies so long as the chaos continues to spread. As he put it himself in TDK, "It's like I'm a dog chasing cars. I don't even know what I'd do if I caught one."

Bringing Mr. J to Your Campaign

I've just detailed a lot of things that make the Joker a frightening and unique villain. You can use a lot of the things he does in TDK and weave them into your adventures in D&D.

Suppose you have a mad wizard laying waste everywhere he goes. Nobody knows why he's doing this. Guess what happens if the PC's try to talk him out of it! (Hint: it ends in "ireball".) Or worse, their conversation points out to the arcane psycho another abomination that needs to be.... corrected. At the root. In the PC's hometown.

Or, how about a fallen villain from earlier in your campaign who wants nothing more than to see the heroic party shamed before all who hold them up as a shining example to their people? This villain could set up a trap with a seeming no-win situation in which the PC's would have to look bad one way or the other. Or he could just plain try to tempt or goad them into doing something morally questionable and let the stone continue to roll down the hill of evil.

I could go on quite a bit more, but you get the idea. The Joker is, in my mind, the epitome of a Proper Villain. Use characters like him as a resource, and your own characters will get a lot more colorful and believable. And if any of your PC's hunt you down because your villain was just too damn evil to stop, then I apologize in advance for giving you just a little push in the right (wrong?) direction.

Sam vs. The Dracolich

Okay, so my son isn't really about to be eaten by a dracolich. He's about to be eaten by Sue, the T-Rex at the Field Museum in Chicago, where Efreak and I took him over the weekend.

We also had the pleasure of going to their Mythic Creatures exhibit. There were lots of creatures represented, from sea monsters to griffins to dragons. It was interesting to roam around the exhibit and see how many things from the Monster Manuals I recognized (I had not previously realized the Bunyip was a mythic creature!).

The real attraction for me, though, was the life-sized representations of a few of the monsters. Their dragon was great and their unicorn was really well done too. But far and away my favorite of their exhibits was the Roc. I loved seeing all these things life-sized because it gave me a frame of reference for how large my imagination will make them during roleplaying. We'd fought a roc in the Evensbrook campaign a long time ago, and just to be able to see those giant talons reaching out for me gave me a little taste of what it would have been like for Lumbar.

You'll see a lot of life-sized monsters at Gen Con too. True Dungeon always has a couple (anybody else almost soil themselves when the beholder showed up last year?). If you get a chance to go to something like this, I highly recommend it. It's a good way to give your imagination some perspective.

Taking The Mists Seriously For A Change

As many of you may have guessed by this point, I have an overactive imagination. I have always been this way, and it is a great asset to me in my daily life. I'm very rarely really bored because usually if left idle my brain just does whatever the hell it feels like and leaves me to sort out the pieces. (It's more fun than it sounds.) As a kid, I daydreamed quite a bit too. However, there was a real nasty side of being a kid with a powerful imagination. I was the kid who wouldn't go near the basement at night, especially with the lights out. I was convinced there were monsters under the bed, in the closet, behind most doors, and generally anywhere I wasn't looking right then. Very frequently, I was not a big fan of bedtime -- I can't even count the number of times I found myself screaming for Mom and Dad. Sometimes I knew what I was afraid of, but the really bad ones were when I woke up and I was scared out of my mind and I really didn't know why.

I can't honestly say I still don't get the willies walking through my house in the dark in the middle of the night. Our house is built into the side of a hill, and we've got a long dark hallway that ends in two underground rooms. And at night, if there's no lights on, you can't see a damn thing. And almost every time I pass it, I can't help but look just in case. Sometimes I'll look at a window and think I see movement or be expecting some monster to mash its face up against the glass suddenly. And the thing that's been creeping me out recently is when I go in to check on my baby son in the middle of the night, I'll open the door and cringe expecting to find some horrible thing hunched over his cradle looking at him.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm a grown man and I can make my will save and fear check vs imaginary monsters. But it's just that nameless fear, the momentary chill up the spine, and the realization that holy shit that would really be creepy that really make things interesting. When this happens, for a brief moment, I'm a helpless little kid again and there's nothing that can save me short of a light switch or Mom and Dad.

Let Them Scare Themselves

The feeling I just described is how horror works in my mind. I watched an ungodly amount of "horror" movies as a teenager, but just some random guy hacking up sorority girls doesn't scare me. Some gruesome beast shown in HD with blood and slime and pus everywhere is fun to look at, but not scary. What is scary, then? Well, the problem isn't so much in the subject matter so much as it is the presentation. If the same monster is talked about in hushed voices by the locals lest the beast hear us and the protagonists of the story run across a grisly scene of the monster's doing, that's a good start. That plants a few seeds in a person's mind about what this thing is and how the hell it could have done that even though they possibly don't even have the slightest idea what it really is. Or, even better, what if they realize they could be next? Then they're looking around every corner and staying awake nights and just as soon as they drop their guard.... well, you know. That's way scarier.

The point is, it's scarier when it's not spelled out for everyone. As a DM, you don't have to say "a troglodyte approaches" or Tell the players about the seemingly unstoppable hulking figure lumbering toward them, with scaly dull mottled skin, evil red eyes, and a tail that indicates nothing human this way comes. For that matter, nothing says you can't just make it dark where the PC's are. That Light spell of theirs isn't going to illuminate a dungeon like the inside of a Wal-Mart. Be vague. When you do give up details, give up the scary details if you can. Whatever the player thinks is happening is probably a lot worse than what's actually happening, and when the lights finally shine on the beast only to show it was just an emaciated kobold they just killed, they feel awful silly. At least, up until the bushes rustle behind them.

Horror campaigns aren't easy to pull off, and it's not difficult to see why in most cases. Our group is going to start a Ravenloft campaign here in the next couple weeks (run by our friend/evil specialist/minister and soon-to-be contributor Katherine and her husband Carson), and I can't honestly say I'm not worried that we're not going to take it seriously enough to be effective (at least without some severe beatings). You can't force a beer-and-pretzels (or in our case sugar-and-caffiene) group to be scared. I've personally borne witness to the grisly death of a well-made Cthulhu campaign run by our poor friend Kanati (due in no small part to me playing a psychic rugby player and speaking in a Scottish accent the whole time). It's also hard to take a bunch of hardcore power gamers who have the monster manual memorized and have them be scared of most things you put in front of them. Matter of fact, if you do succeed in making a monster vague and scary, these players are probably going to feel helpless and get pissed off. Horrible things happening to a power gamer's character aren't roleplaying devices, they're "nerfs" to be avoided. For instance, a curse on a wizard PC's hands that makes them slowly get gnarled and blackened and useless is a great storytelling tool and an impetus for the PC's to get their job done to save him. To a power gamer, you're giving him penalties to spellcasting (for no good reason damn you!). You're going to get a giant bushel of analysis and strategy, a lot of frustrated, and not a whole lot of scared. Our group has both of these in spades, and I've been doing a lot of thinking about how we can have fun in such a horror-intense setting.

Hip To Be Scared?

My best guess is that a good place to start would be to make sure everybody's on the same page as to what we're looking for out of the campaign. That means I don't make any psychics that talk and act like Shrek with a Magnum .45 pistol. That means that Stupid Ranger has to occasionally suspend her natural ability to produce a rule that saves everyone at the last second. It means that everybody needs to let go of the numbers and the dice and to listen to the slow, dark things happening to and around them and to think holy shit that would really be creepy.

If we can do that, I think we'll have ourselves a successful horror campaign. I'm dying to hear any input our readers can offer us on the topic before the campaign kicks off. Help us scare the crap out of ourselves!

Playing the Races in 4E

I think there's a lot of good in 4E, but there is no denying there's a lot of change. One of the first areas in the PHB where we can see that change is in the races. There's the introduction of several new classes, as well as changes to the existing, familiar classes.

Dragonborn

Definitely different. The Dragonborn race is one of the new races in 4E, which by now is not news to you. Dante recently likened them to Klingons, which really isn't too far off the mark. One of the things that struck me is that their sense of honor is so strong that they treat their adversaries with courtesy and respect. There's something very poetic about that level of nobility, and that will make a great character trait to highlight as a player.

Dwarf

Familiar but slightly changed. I felt that the description focused a great deal on the Dwarven affinity to stone, more than I remember from the previous edition. But what hasn't changed the Dwarven loyalty; a friend is a friend, and it is an honor to fight beside a friend, no matter how dire the situation. This gives you a great character progression to follow. In the beginning, you're merely acquaintences; as you adventure together, you discover the worth of your comrades and are proud to fight with them.

Eladrin

Because I don't think it was necessary for the Eladrin/Elf split, I've decided that it's just easier to think of the Eladrin as an entirely new race. All that aside, perhaps one of the best descriptors of the Eladrin is "detached." They are very much separate from the rest of the world around them. The "detached" persona is nothing new to me as a player, having recently played Ari along similar lines (because with Batloaf around, it was just easier and gave Ari reasonably deniability when he did crazy things). I would warn that this can be very difficult to overcome as you adventure; if you are playing an Eladrin, I would recommend softening your aloof nature as you spend more time with your comrades.

Elf

Elves in 4E sound a lot like tree-hugging hippies, but I say this as kindly as possible, knowing that I'm planning to play one soon. They are very closely tied to the woodlands and are very passionate in that the emotions they feel, they feel deeply. Try playing your Elf with particular attention to the emotion reactions they might feel; this is a significant part of their personality.

Half-Elf

Not much really changed with the Half-Elves, but I think we see a lonely side to their existance in this edition. Not quite fitting in with the Humans, not quite fitting in with the Elves, Half-Elves enjoy surrounding themselves with friends, possible to alleviate some of the loneliness they feel from not really belonging anywhere. Your Half-Elf will likely be open-minded to newcomers she meets, eager to learn something new from her new-found friend.

We'll take a look at the rest of the races in the next installment!

27 Character Sheets

In a fit of girly-ness this evening, I watched 27 Dresses. I'm guessing that many of you either haven't seen this movie or saw it under duress with your significant other. And I'm also guessing that you're just waiting to see how I'm going to connect this to gaming. And here it is:

About half-way through the movie, Jane comes to realize that she must discard the baggage in her past (in the form of 27 dresses) in order to move on. And I got to thinking that as you move on to a new character, it becomes very important to dump the baggage of your old characters.

You have to let your old characters retire gracefully. If you let the memories of your previous character dictate your new character, you may attempt the Mark 2, a re-creation of the character concept, because you are sure you can do it better this time. Or, in the event things didn't turn out the way you planned, you may create the antithesis, trying to create your new character as different as possible.

I'm not always good about letting past character retire, but I do try to keep my characters separate, at least in my own mind. For me, it helps to have a developed back story; it's easier to keep everyone separate if they all had different stories.

What techniques do you use to move on from your old character(s)?

Advice for the Fighters Out There

Dear Fighting Friends -

After recent experience with some Very Nasty Things, I write to encourage you to please do something to ward your mind against attacks. Sure, the shiny armor protects the skins, but what safeguards have you employed to protect your mind? Herein I'll share with you the story of the Very Nasty Things, that through my tale of suffering you might better understand the dangers against which you must guard your mind.

In the deep, dark caverns below Castle Perilous, we disturbed the subterranean pond of two skeleton-like shrieking creatures. As I was distracted by my battle with the animated statue, my mind was suddenly assaulted by a horrible shrieking sound from the skeletons. I could no longer hear the sounds of battle around me as the shriek reverberated in my head.

The statue was quickly defeated, but the skeletons were continuing their attack against my mind. Then, before I knew what was happening to me, I was compelled to attack the nearest person, which was not a troublesome skeleton, but our good cleric. I don't know what came over me, but I could not stop my attack against him, though I knew he was not an enemy.

The battle ended in a blur of activity, most of which I was unaware. I continued my uncontrollable attack against the cleric, then I lost the ability to communication sensibly and babbled incessantly. Before I knew what had happened, I found the cleric dead at my feet, and I couldn't even explain to the rest of the group why I had killed him. The compulsion ended, but the emotional scars will take a great deal of time to heal.

So, my friends, find some means to protect your mind before the Very Nasty Things take it over and force you to commit unspeakable acts. I can't actually tell you what to do, mostly because I haven't recovered the ability to speak, but please read this letter and heed its contents before it's too late!

Sincerely,

Sar'Ruaselari

Another Post About Nothing

This comic about Seinfeld characters playing D&D (mirror here, it's getting Dugg) reminded me very much of this post on Seinfeldian magic items I did awhile back.

Seinfeld was never my favorite show in the universe, but I did watch it now and then and it did get me thinking a little this morning -- rarely a character shows up on that show that isn't put under a microscope and all their weird little idiosyncrasies examined in detail (and usually poked with a cattle prod, causing hilarity to ensue). I like it when D&D characters enjoy that same kind of character development. I frequently like it much more than I do the main plot of the story, which I'm sure is the source of at least six or seven aneurysms in Dante and the other DMs I've played with.

To wit: my favorite sessions are usually the first two or three, when the crap hasn't hit the fan yet and we're getting to know everyone, followed closely by the "break" sessions in the story where we usually follow one character's personal story (which may or may not be woven into the main story). But barring those weird times when we're all arguing about which direction to go because we can't figure out the clues laid before us, those sessions where we're not doing anything particularly "useful" per se are what I really look forward to, especially with a new character to play.

Making a character that has some strange personal idiosyncrasies, in addition to making everyday roleplay with your character more interesting, may have an impact on everyone's lives (good or bad!) in much the same way that the folks on Seinfeld frequently have misadventures because they're really freaking neurotic. I mean, they devoted half an episode to Kramer trying to defend himself from deadly birthday wishes. And I was enraptured.

I'm a believer in that the small stuff can be every bit as interesting as the epic. Characters should be more than a bunch of combat stat blocks! The difficulty, of course, is that as you get higher in level, the monsters you fight are optimized to be a challenge to people who are prepared to fight them. On several occasions (but especially with Bat Loaf), I've picked spells and items that weren't particularly combat-friendly and it cost me. It's just a fact of life that the vast, vast majority of D&D campaigns revolve around stuff killing other stuff and you need to keep that in mind before you go too overboard. If you don't, you'll quickly find yourself frustrated week after week.

But don't abandon the fact that you have a character to play. DM's -- let them! And try not to dogpile in the end battle on the guy that picked Percussion to give a little atmosphere to his nightly trysts with the barmaids. Dante.

A Rogue's Guide to Alternagaming...

Stupid Ranger's post on the recent gaming drought that is plaguing various corners of the Internet seems to have struck a chord.

Lack of Gaming and your local DM

From a DM perspective, the lack of frequency can almost be a blessing because it earns you some precious time to actually plan upcoming sessions or take stock of the good and bad storytelling aspects that have crept into your world.

Lately, my co-DM Kanati and I have been discussing the abject pain and suffering that has been caused by our unseemly ascent into the Epic Levels, and discussing what we would do different if we could turn back time. This is mostly just lamenting and gnashing of teeth, luckily we are within a few short sessions of Campaign's End which (at least to me) is quite welcome.

Musings to pass the time...

In addition to the standard fare of Rock Band and Guitar Hero, I've found myself starting to think of some other nerdly pursuits to fill in the gaps where gaming used to go. Developing software for fun (yes, ladies and gentlemen, I am a True Nerd), exploring some other gaming systems/extensions (Mage and the Three Dragon Ante spring to mind), and enjoying the glorious first person high definition violence of my Xbox 360 have all been employed to while away our spare Friday and Saturday nights.

Unfortunately, for me the grind of running the campaign can become a chore. It's usually when nearing this "beg for mercy" stage of plot development that I truly take stock to determine when the best time is to finish up, and I am certain that time is near.

I have some topics to round out the week dealing with further alterna-gaming and some ideas for ending a campaign that I hope you'll like. In the meantime, I'd love to hear how some of you while away your non-roleplaying time and how you know when the point to stop running a campaign has drawn near.

"I'm Missing the Chili Cook-Off!"

One of my all-time favorite Simpson's episodes, "El Viaje Misterioso de Nuestro Jomer (The Mysterious Voyage of Our Homer)", was on recently. Watching Homer crazed out on the Merciless Peppers of Quetzaltenango reminded me of some of those crazy times in a campaign when you're not sure what to do, but you're sure it's not what you actually are doing.

"To Make Yourself Complete, You Must Find Your Soulmate"

Sometimes it feels as if the DM has set a seemingly simple but deceptively difficult quest, like Homer's quest to find his soulmate. And often times, we feel unequipped to complete our quest once we learn the true depth of it.

As we embark on this quest, the DM may provide a spirit guide, like Homer's Space Coyote. It might not be a guide, per se, but some sort of help: a rumor, a prophecy, a random bit of knowledge. So while the quest may seem difficult, at least we have a bread crumb trail to get started.

"This Is Just Your Memory, I Can't Give You Any New Information"

The biggest obstacle to be overcome in these types of quests is the Great Doubt. This is the time when you're sure you've missed something, and you don't know what, but you refuse to move forward until you figure out the "missing piece."

There are two reasons I feel this is the biggest obstacle. First, it is easy to be blinded from that missing piece because you are focused on what you already know. For instance, we recently were quested to save the world, and we had figured out that meant we had to overcome the evil goddess. It wasn't until much later that we realized (via a Bardic Knowledge check) that the goddess could be killed through a specific ritual. All along, we had known that we had to stop her, but we hadn't thought specifically about how that could be accomplished. By sitting down and discussing the goal as a group, you're more likely to figure out that missing bit of information and overcome this obstacle.

The second reason this can be a big obstacle is much more devious; sometimes there isn't a missing piece to be found. This is a difficult situation because of the mental agony associated with it. You don't know what to do, and you don't know how to figure out what to do. You've interviewed everyone you can find, you've researched every old tome in every library you can find, you've even tried consulting with the gods. And now you're stuck... because there's no new information to find... there is no "missing piece." Well, that's the devious part: this piece isn't missing, it's misplaced. The DM is being devious and wanting you to piece together all the obscure bits of information from back to the beginning of the campaign into some coherent, usable body of knowledge. To overcome this particular obstacle, make friends with the historian in the group and review everything that has happened to you since you all met in that tavern.

"The Mind Is Always Chattering Away With A Thousand Thoughts At Once"

To succeed in your quest, you have to overcome the Great Doubt. You have to calm your mind and divorce yourself from the emotional entanglement that comes with your quest. You'll successfully reach the end of your quest if you take a few minutes of quiet reflection on your goal, and lay off the insanity peppers.

Of Castles and Keeps...

I began conceiving this post as a means to discuss the different living arrangements that your characters can undertake throughout the course of a campaign. Our campaigns have varied from purely nomadic "going where the action is" style living arrangements all the way to having a "home base" city where our characters would return to in between episodes.

This got me thinking about taverns, castles, keeps, and the like... and unfortunately I couldn't come up with something interesting to discuss relative to D&D or roleplaying.

So instead, its time for a confession.

I've always wanted to live in a castle. Ever since I was adult enough to have to contemplate home-ownership, this desire has existed. I've even gone so far as to research floor plans, building techniques, and actual ways to make this dream into a reality.

Interestingly, I'm not the only one that has this desire. In fact, a couple of SCA enthusiasts put up a website detailing the construction of their residential castle, from digging of the foundation all the way to the day they moved in. I have to appreciate their dedication to their dream and actually hatching it into reality, I hope someday that SR and I will be able to follow suit.

Strangely, I can honestly say that all of this doesn't come from the part of my being that enjoys roleplaying. For a long while, I wanted to be an architect and I have a great appreciation for interesting architecture, and I think that this drives this passion more than wanting to pretend in some recess of my brain that I am some duke or lord ruling over his land.

The couple that I linked above are into the SCA, and for that reason desired some level of historical period accuracy. That doesn't necessarily trip my trigger, as I have found from a few other hobbies that detail oriented things quickly pass into the "not fun" category. I just want something that looks and feels like a castle, but has as many of the amenities of a finished modern day home.

I suppose I should relate this in some way to roleplaying.

About the only thing that I can do to relate this whole post to any type of roleplaying is this: embrace the things that motivate you creatively. If that's wanting to live in a modern-day castle, or dressing up and attending a SCA event, or roleplaying or LARPing... go for it. Don't be ashamed of it, don't let criticism or naysayers dampen your spirits. From a roleplaying/campaign perspective, try something that falls in line with your creative passion and you may find a fertile ground for new and exciting material.

Just go for it!

Choose Your Own Adventure...

Our good buddy Yax over at DungeonMastering posted up a whopping 83 free D&D Adventures. I don't know whether it was the boldly advertised "adventures" in the title or the massive amounts of caffeine that I have ingested tonight, but it got me to thinking about the old school "Choose Your Own Adventure" book series.

I remember that one such book named "Space Vampire" (by Edward Packard) used to scare the crap out of me when I was a kid. It wasn't the storyline, per se, but there were several "failure" illustrations that showed your gaunt dessicated corpse after the Space Vampire did his thing. Judith Mitchell certainly had the "creepy enough to seep into my dreams" illustration thing down.

Write your own adventure, or use a stock adventure?

This is one of the eternal questions, and it comes down to matter of preference. Personally, I find it generally easier for me to invest myself in a storyline or plot point if I create it from the ground up. I tend to either forget (I'm not much of a note-taker) or fail miserably at adapting the stock adventure elements to my own storyline, so I tend to prefer hand-rolling my own modular adventures.

There was a small part of me that was somewhat compelled to write my own "Choose Your Own Adventure" book when I was a kid, and I have to believe that was some of my proto-DM tendencies wanting to be released to the world.

Has anyone else been otherwise inspired by these books, or am I just particularly insane for keeping a special place in my heart for them?

Is True Dungeon LARPing? My answer: no, but close!

Yesterday, I covered a topic that had been burning in my brain for quite some time: a discussion on Live Action Roleplaying and its place in our hobby. I feel somewhat vindicated in my stance on the matter after hearing the articulate commentary provided by you all out there in the blogosphere, however there is often another tangent to this discussion that always seems to come up when I talk about this with members of our group.

True Dungeon: The LARP Grey Market

I have had the good fortune to play most (if not all) of the incarnations of True Dungeon over the years. Often, when I discuss the topic of LARPing Vanir readily points out this fact to me and tries to make the argument that True Dungeon is essentially normalized LARPing for the masses.

I respectfully choose to disagree with my good friend on this point, and here's why. LARPing, by its very definition requires some aspect of roleplaying. Hopefully those of you that have been through True Dungeon can back me up on this point; there is little to no actual roleplaying taking place within the Marriott Ballroom walls by the players.

The non-player staff does a pretty good job of roleplaying, but due to time constraints roleplaying is usually a luxury that dies the moment the sounding carillon chimes to usher you down to the Pits of Doom. Do you get to act out character roles? Yes, but there is a distinct difference between this and actual roleplaying. Actual roleplaying would dictate that you have given your assigned character a background, personality, and motivation... none of this exists in the incarnations of True Dungeon that I have played.

The closest you get to any real personality for the players is when the bard of the group is forced to sing in order to maintain their bardsong effects, and strains of off-key (sorry SR) "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" doesn't qualify in the range of effective roleplay.

Why I classified this a Grey Market

When you buy your True Dungeon ticket, you are purchasing a dungeon crawling experience. The tavern that they make available and the in-character staff that serves drinks, provides orientation, and adds flavor is very adept at evoking the feeling of Greyhawk and in some cases are very good at playing the roles that they have been assigned (or created, I don't know how that works).

This makes it a very realistic D&D style experience, and honestly its why I love True Dungeon. I love the look and feel of actually being within a game, as if I am a life sized miniature with stats (please, withhold jokes there guys). It's like being on the edge of LARPing with a set of opera glasses watching the show, but with this show audience participation in the midst of the Dungeon isn't possible.

To me, its an in-between experience for us pencil and paper roleplayers and the world of LARP.

A frank discussion about LARPing...

Today I'd like to discuss one of the more interesting areas of the nerdly arts, the world of Live Action Roleplaying (or LARPing). I must admit, the strangeness of costumed folk at conventions that claim very fervently to be some character that only they and their friends know about is considerably unsettling to me. The level of passion that LARPers bring to their hobby isn't the only thing that bothers me...

Disclaimer: I have never LARPed before. It frightens me, and I apologize in advance if you are offended by the following.

Those of you that know me or have been paying even the slightest bit of attention to some of my posts know that I enjoy high quality props (both relating to films and relating to my campaigns). Unfortunately, the examples of craftsmanship in costuming and propwork have run the range from hilarious to extremely unsettling (most seem to be executed using Wal-Mart bargain rack fabric in roughly 36 minutes). That, and the penchant for tights and ill-fitting bosom supporting devices is intolerable, and don't lie to me and tell me you don't wear them, I've seen them with my own eyes at GenCon!

Heavan help you if you actually stop to ask someone who LARPs what the giant sword that they are carrying is supposed to be, or what (incorrectly assumed movie) character they are dressed as... because you're going to get a dissertation on the providence of said item that the person or someone they knew made up and nobody else knows about. This is usually followed by the Nerd Sound, usually a "nyahh" vocalization to indicate extreme satisfaction. I make it too (about other topics), so I'm not throwing stones... simply pointing out a fact. That sound is often used as punctuation when fulfilling ones nerdly genetic imperative.

I tend to lump LARPing in the upper echelon of what society assumes when it thinks of roleplaying "nerds." It is clearly within my personality to be mortally embarrassed if I was ever photographed LARPing and said photos were shown to my family/coworkers/dog. It is simply past my threshold of acceptable levels of nerding out.

That being said...

The rest of my disdainful perspective comes from ignorance. If there are any LARPers in our midst, I would love a few words about why you love your hobby and if it can be related to a classic roleplaying experience I would love to understand your point of view more.

Many stories exist on the Internet regarding LARPing and some of the unique characters (both real-world and created) that have existed in this genre, and I am curious what segment of our readership have experienced this type of roleplaying first hand.

Educate me! Share your stories!

If you agree with my general perspective, lets hear from you too!

(NOTE: I would prefer this not become an "is True Dungeon LARPing" thread. We will save *that* topic for later on this week.)

Chemistry for D&D

A few weeks back, I posted about the characteristics of a good group, and as our friend from RolePlayGateway remarked, chemistry is a big part of a group dynamics. Today, I want to focus on chemistry for storytellers.

Chemistry & Group Composition

In a story-heavy situation, chemistry is really essential, and good chemistry can often be traced back to group composition. You have to have a position relationship with the other players in order to work together on developing the story; arch-enemies don't play well together, and the story will suffer. The leadership has to be just right: not too many leaders pull the story every-which-way, but not too few to keep it moving. The group has to be emotionally connected to the story as a group; if the whole group isn't invested in the story, part will be pulling toward resolution and part will be dragging behind.

Good Chemistry Is Hard to Find

As I'm sitting here thinking about all this, I am finding it very difficult to describe good storytelling chemistry. It just happens, like magic for a sorcerer. Players contribute to the story and move the plot forward with little prodding from the DM. Everyone enjoys a piece of the action even when action is not involved; you may not have drawn your weapon, but you still saved the world. Those who have experienced good storytelling chemistry know it, but it can be an experience that eludes description.

It's Chemistry, Not Botany...

Chemistry won't grow on trees. In my experience, if your group doesn't have the chemistry for a story-heavy campaign, chances are likely that it won't develop. It doesn't matter how long you've known each other or how great of friends you are, some groups just don't manage to tell stories together.

I've seen better success in smaller groups, and I think it's because with smaller numbers, players get more of a chance to interact with the story. But that doesn't mean all small groups can be storytellers or that all large groups have no hope. Every group is different, every group's dynamic is different, and it can be very difficult to foresee storytelling potential.

Your Chemistry & Your DM

The DM is the story-weaver, and it will be up the DM to coordinate the story and your group's abilities. Don't be afraid to talk to your DM if your level of storytelling is not where you want it to be; s/he may need to reconsider story-driven elements or negotiate between the storytellers and non-storytellers in the group to keep everyone at a happy balance so that everyone has a good time.

Behind the Screen: Wrangling prestige classes at epic levels...

Tonight's topic may seem a bit tailored to a given rule set, but if you've hung around this long you understand that we are a predominantly D&D oriented crew around here. As previously mentioned, we are in the late stages of an epic level campaign and are learning many lessons from our course thus far, and today I would like to examine epic character development and the challenges that it poses to both player and Dungeon Master.

As always, my inspiration is my Lovely Assistant

Well, not assistant so much as wife, but still... earlier this week Stupid Ranger provided a look at motivation behind epic level character development that touched on many important aspects of planning an epic level character.

She did directly mention the need to keep your epic character exciting, and that is something that the DM may be able to help facilitate. The real quandary that I can see is what to do with a character that has worked very diligently down a specific "career path" but finds themselves at an end as they get up in levels. That character has attained all the ranks of a given prestige class, and having topped out those ranks they now are forced to look at other avenues to continue down.

An example from my own past

When I was a player, I had one such character that completed his prestige class. I had built the notion of this prestige class so deeply around my character that reverting back to standard class ranks was far too mundane and didn't even seem to make much sense given the progression of his personality. I decided to take another path: knowing that my DM was open to "out of the box" thinking I asked if I could forge an additional prestige class (of course, pending his approval) that would heighten my character's skills beyond the published prestige class.

After several revisions, the result was satisfactory and the character finished out the campaign on his own unique road which happened to mean a lot to both the character and to me as a player.

Don't be afraid of this stuff, but be careful all the same!

As DM's, I challenge you all to be open to working with your players to do their characters the most service. If you're worried about game balance, simply take a look at modifying an existing prestige class to suit your needs, adjusting skills/feats/spells/effects as necessary. If you are comfortable with crafting an entirely unique prestige class, allow your players that option. Be very careful to keep game balance in mind with either of these options, make sure you're not over- or under-powering your abilities as you look at further development.

As players, don't be afraid to ask your DM to work with you if you feel that it makes more sense to allow your character to continue going down the prestige path that they have forged.

The worst they can say is no! (Unless they decide to devour your character using vorpal rabbits, which is always an attractive option.)

Behind the Screen: Spicing up tavern antics...

Today is St. Patrick's Day, one of the most drinkin'est holidays on the standard calendar (and one of my favorite days of the year). In that vein, I would like to look at a few fun and easy ways to spice up a layover at your campaign's local tavern.

The Colorful NPC

One of my personal favorite things to do in a tavern is to introduce a colorful NPC to liven up the standard "I want a drink / I want to kill some time / I have nothing better to do" cycle that usually brings in our adventuring patrons.

These NPC's don't necessarily need to have a specific purpose or be particularly powerful or important. If you try this a few times with the focus on color and entertainment and less on driving home yet another plot point, you may find that your players interact more richly with the NPC and you can drive some storyline with them at a later time.

In fact, in our recent campaign a disposable NPC ended up married to Vanir's character, Bat Loaf, precisely by this process. It works, people. Trust me!

The Random Item

If you're up for a little excitement, you can always introduce an out of place item. Be it an expensive gem unexpectedly found at the bottom of your glass of grog, or a wondrous item found slipped under the door, you can start an excellent detached moment of intrigue and you gain the ability to practice your ad-libbing skills based on how your party reacts to this stimulus.

It might help in either one of these scenarios to have a chunk of episodic content woven around your approach, but it isn't required. If you have a chaotic enough party, they might just pocket the extra bit of treasure and "fly casual" with the loot. Whether or not someone catches them is an entirely different story...

The Local Color

This is something that runs slightly tangent to my first point, but it is important to give your local tavern some life. How many bars have you been in that have touted to have the World's Best of something? Your tavern should have some sort of a hook or special feature that makes it have a little curb appeal.

If you find yourself in a world where your party travels overland often, towns start blurring together and without some level of distinction you can get that cursed affliction that they warned you about in high school driver's education: highway hypnosis. If every bar looks the same in every town, eventually your players will want to handwave that whole process and you will loose that opportunity to interact with them.

Just don't skimp!

I highly recommend taking a few minutes before your next game session and map out an opportunity or two for your players to have some quality roleplaying time inside of their next tavern. The great thing about tavern encounters and color is that you can plan them and use them whenever they are needed, and it gives you some great practice to work on your impromptu dungeon mastering skills!

Luck favors the bold, so give it a go this week!

Resurrection in D&D: Don't Fear the Reaper?

I've been having some discussions recently with my cohorts about the concept of resurrection in D&D. Two of the guys in our gaming group, Sirgeekelot and Kanati, have vehemently argued that it is incredibly broken as it works now. Why?

Why resurrection Sucks

The primary complaint I hear on why resurrection sucks in D&D is that the players no longer fear death. This poses two problems. First, a player is far more apt to do things that may result in their death if they're pretty sure they're just going to get brought back to life after it's all over. They might just charge recklessly into battle, they may intentionally sacrifice their lives heroically, or they may just be more prone to taking big risks. In gameplay terms, no fear of death means players won't think so hard about smarter ways to fight something -- which means it's much more appealing to (as Kanati puts it) "swing your sword over your head and re-enact a scene from Braveheart".

The other problem with no fear of death is that it greatly sucks the drama out of a situation. You're going to be very, very interested in what's going on if your 18th level character you've raised from a puppy is near death and there's no bringing him back. Happy? Probably not -- unless, of course, he wins and continues to live! Drama is exciting. Fear of character death gives players a vested interest in not doing stupid things, and when the party does overcome the big baddie at the end of the dungeon against incredible odds it's like winning the Super Bowl. (Only better, and the rings give +2 to all saves.)

Why resurrection Might Not Be So Bad

I don't know about the rest of you, but I've played a lot of videogame RPGs in my day. In most of those games, if a PC dies, you can get them ressurected somewhere for a steep fee, or carry magic items to do it, or use magic. Just like in D&D. The only way the game ends is if the whole party croaks. But in videogames, you can typically restart at the last save point.

When you start getting into higher levels in both genres, they commonly start throwing enemies at you with abilities that can kill a character in one shot. The counter to that is to ressurect the dead PC. It's a gameplay mechanic, the antidote to the poison of death. Sure, this kind of approach to individual character death is about as dramatic as an oatmeal breakfast WITH EXCITING PEACH SLICES. I get that. To a player, the thought of their PC dying is more frustrating than it is sad or traumatic.

However, if the whole party bites it in D&D, there's no save. If the battle is close or going poorly for the group, it's dramatic. The players are all worried about dying then. They're all engaged. They all want to find some way to defeat the enemy and rise to victory. They could even engage in (gasp) team play in order to keep everybody alive.

Does It Blend?

In the end, I personally think resurrection fits the way D&D works currently simply because it's a needed gameplay element. I don't think it's necessarily bad, just different than the real world. It does take away from the drama of combat in some ways and it prevents certain story plots from occurring, but in my tiny little simulationist brain it fits the world around it. (I tend to think of it as fantasy healthcare for the rich and powerful.)

As I said before, even in our gaming group there's greatly differing opinions on this topic, so I'd love to hear yours. Please commence gentlemanly melee combat in our comments section if you so desire.

No matter how you feel on the topic -- as roleplayers, I would heartily suggest that you do not simply take your PC's lives for granted. Remember, you may not stay dead, but dying HURTS REALLY BAD!

Are You There, Pelor? It's Me, Margaret.

I didn't grow up in a particularly religious household, but I did grow up believing in God. But, being a little nerdy kid who wanted all the answers, I was never really big on the whole idea of faith. I wanted to know (among many things) where God was, where Heaven was, how exactly to get there, and how not to burn in Hell.

I suppose it was a little worse for me not going to church because at least people who do have scripture to try to answer a few of these questions, but by and large pretty much anybody who believes in a higher power just has to take it on faith that what they believe and the power they believe in are up there and they don't get a whole lot of proof to back it up. Unless, of course, you're a pantheist, in which case the air you breathe and the electricity powering your computer are proof enough. Having to take the existence of such a being on faith can lead a person to doubt that faith under the right circumstances. Even Mother Teresa wasn't immune to such things.

Your average D&D cleric, on the other hand, doesn't have this problem. Ever. They wake up in the morning, and pray, and then their deity grants them superpowers. A crisis of faith for a cleric doesn't typically consist of "does my god exist" (well, unless the spells stop coming some morning). It would be much more of a question of "do I believe in the values this deity stands for, and am I an appropriate champion for this person". A cleric basically embodies this deity's power and they are this god's physical presence in the mortal world. Sure, you hear about the gods visiting in person now and then. And you also hear about giant cataclysmic battles and gods dying and their bodies turning into mountain ranges and magic leaving the world for a time -- typically it royally sucks for mortals when the gods visit so they don't do it much. At any rate, an interesting roleplaying opportunity (if you are bored with your do-gooder standard cleric, for instance) would be to have him realize he's not on the right path. He could go several other directions including to a different class, or to a different god who suits him better. Not to say that this would be without consequences. In addition to disillusionment with life and general despair, loss of faith is loss of powers (and a haunted cemetery is a hell of a time to realize you and Corellon aren't getting along very well). Depending on the cleric's deity, there might even be a little divine retribution on the way. Which could be grandiose and mystical but more likely it's just some members of the cleric's former order coming by to play "dogpile on the blasphemer". All of this would make for fantastic roleplaying fodder (conflict is the mother of interesting characters, after all), but I would highly recommend working with one's DM beforehand if you plan to do this to avoid suddenly finding yourself in the aforementioned "haunted cemetery without the ability to turn undead" scenario and subsequent death from PHB trauma to your skull.

One thing I never did understand about gods (in D&D and real life) is why they desire (or require?) mortals to believe in them and worship. Especially for people in a fantasy realm who get superpowers, it seems like the gods are getting the raw end of the deal. But since they're gods, we mere mortals cannot comprehend their desires, and we just don't understand the rules. So when your god asks for macaroni pictures, just give them to him. This is not to say, of course, that the other all-powerful being in your D&D campaign (that's you, DMs!) cannot come up with a reason why the gods might want something, and consequently why the PCs need to do it for them.

One interesting thing to consider is that a non-cleric person in a fantasy realm might have a much easier time believing in their god because they've seen divine magic in action. Maybe their local cleric healed them or something. Watching the wound I got from a rabid opossum suddenly stop hurting and close up before my eyes would make me believe in something higher than myself. However, I don't imagine most peasants have any ranks in Knowledge(Arcana) and arcane magic is going to look like the work of the gods to them as well. (I suppose it is the work of the gods in the Forgotten Realms, in a way, but that's beside the point.) The PC's might be able to easily tell a mage from a priest, but even a low level wizard could fool the natives into following "the will of the gods" to his own ends. How many of us here have ever cast Light on something to fool a mob of rubes? You know, the more I think about it, the more I'm glad I'm not a peasant in the Forgotten Realms. I might see one gp my entire life, which some crooked illusionist will trick me out of, and then when I go out into the forest to chop wood I can get eaten by a manticore. I don't need to worry about manticores! I have way too much to worry about already!

One last thing lest I rant any further about my irrational fear of manticores: Katherine, who plays D&D regularly with the SR crew, recently played a character who was a cleric of the sun god Horus-Re. About halfway through the campaign, she had an extremely spectacular (and complicated) crisis of faith in our current campaign when her friend (a paladin of Horus-Re) got killed -- so much so that she spent the next several months after his death being generally disillusioned and hard to deal with. In the end, her character refused to be brought back from the dead due to her religious beliefs that the afterlife was a better place and a natural part of having lived and her role on the Prime Material was finished. (Think Buffy season 6 except without all the angst or coming back.) Now that's dedication to roleplaying, people! (Although it did rob us of our precious healing bitch.)

This particular incident was interesting to me both because it was well roleplayed and because of the player who did it. You see, Katherine is an ordained minister. When we first met her, we'd invited her husband to play with us and he mentioned his wife wanted to play as well. About three nights before they show up he mentions her job -- so we were initially somewhat hesitant when she wanted to play with us, because most of us were used to minsters thinking of D&D in rather negative terms. To be honest, I had visions of this new player demanding we play a modified version of D&D in which nobody casts spells lest our souls be damned and I wasn't about to have some newbie performing an exorcism in my dining room. Thankfully, Katherine turned out not only to be not like that at all, but to be a very deep and excellent roleplayer. Not only that, but she also writes a fantastic series on her blog called DMing the Bible in which she is, in her words "looking at Biblical texts with the eyes of a Biblical Scholar and as a Dungeon Master". I've never read anything like it before and even if you're not a Christian or religious, you're going to find what amounts to a gatling gun loaded with new and interesting ways to look at our chosen method of fun shooting you directly in the face and brain. It's really great stuff, and I wholeheartedly encourage you to read it. (And I'm not just saying that because she knows where I live!)

Playing Well With Others

Last week, I shared a short list of characteristics for a good group. Included on that list was Cooperative role play; this time, I want to expand on that idea.

Character Interaction

If you're involved in a story-intensive campaign, character interaction can be vital to the flow of the story and the general roleplaying experience. I can't imagine an intro session where characters didn't talk to each other to learn more about their stories and livelihoods; sharing a round of drinks and discussing what brought you into town is a lot more satisfying (story-wise) than just giving your character's vitals.

Taken a step further, forging a bond between characters can make the story even more memorable as the characters grow together. For example, in the first half of our campaign,Tiri and Nathaniel were old friends from before the inception of the group. When something happened to one character, the other was always ready to jump to his/her defense.

Unified Front

Being able to present a unified front, whether facing allies or enemies, is a very important characteristic of a good group in a story-intensive campaign. For every group, there is usually one leader, who handles most of the NPC interactions so that the group is treated the same (for better or worse) wherever they may go. This, of course, may vary dependent on the situation or environment; even if he is the figurehead most times, the dwarf doesn't usually lead the party into the heart of the elven lands.

I believe that presenting a unified front can be one of the hardest and most essential characteristics to reduce the havoc the DM can create with NPCs. If the group is constantly bickering about who is authorized to speak, or if multiple characters are speaking with different agendas, NPCs can become confused, and the DM can create some conflict based on this confusion.

Cooperative Combat

For either the story-intensive or the hack-n-slash campaigns, a good group can fight together very well. This involves many battle elements, such as spelling up for maximum benefit, coordinating attacks, and character placement during battle. And since every encounter is different, the group has to be flexible enough to adapt. An approach that might be highly successful against hill giants may not yield the same positive results against zombies. In my experience, this is a characteristics that groups gain the longer they adventure together; it takes some time to identify the strengths and weaknesses of the group.

The Joys of Dungeon Mastering...

I have spent much time in the last few weeks reflecting on the things that I like to do and why I like to do them, all the way from career goals to recreational pursuits. That led me to consider my roleplaying hobby, specifically being the Dungeon Master, and why it is that I love it so much.

You are in control.

Human beings, by their very nature, like to be in control of the environment around them. Being the DM allows a level of complete control over the "surroundings" and activities that take place in those surroundings. Granted, there will always be someone that doesn't agree with your perspective on a given situation, but that's why 20d6 lightning bolts from the sky were created.

It is a creative outlet.

There are many jokes made about the alpha nerds, the ones that are so into their job, hobby, or passion that they demand some level of attention when they talk authoritatively about a given topic. The neat thing about DMing is that you simply need a story to tell and some people to tell it to and you're done. You can make that story be whatever you want, dictated however stringently, or modified and colored by the people you are storytelling to.

It is a creative outlet, plain and simple. Now there will be some alpha nerds that have all the techniques, toys, bells and whistles to make their story shine a little more than some, but at its root anyone can be good at it. Most of the DMs that I count as excellent had a good story, no miniatures, figures, fancy battle mats, maps or other accoutrements to aid their story. They simply told it well and knew when to flex it based on our input.

It's Social Networking for Nerds

Often, those that frequent are hobby tend to be people that would otherwise be described as weird... nerds, dorks, dweebs, melvins... the terms go on and on. Roleplaying provides a safe zone for those that fall into some or all of those categories. We get to hang out with others of our pack, trading stories, eating junk food and having fun. Usually, we are safe from the barbs and diatribes of the rest of society, and that provides the simple ability to unabashedly be ourselves and that is a very powerful thing