Encouraging your players to spend their hard-grifted money is sometimes difficult- if there’s not a mechanical benefit to it, what’s the point in replacing that scratched-up old sword with a brand-new one?
I’m thinking of lots of business models that encourage ‘buying in’ to the newest model of phone without offering anything that would make your standard adventurer upgrade from their old unbreakable Nokia. In the same way, what makes an adventurer want to get nicer gear, unless it’s all +1 better than the last lot of gear? Or what stops them just becoming hoarders, hanging onto every single object they ever write onto their character sheet? You can offer prettier gear, in matching colours or adornments. Up-sell with matching scabbards to go with the colour of their armour/surcoat/cloak or whatever. But even then, canny players will turn down things that don’t have a mechanical (that is, in-game) effect. So another option is to make gear conditions, which degrade over use or need maintenance. Something like below: Pristine gear: pristine gear sells for double the listed price. It fits comfortably, is visibly in good condition, and gains a +1 condition bonus on any saving throws that the item itself has to make. At any point when it takes damage, pristine gear loses this condition and becomes standard gear. Standard gear: standard gear sells at the listed prices, and has no bonuses. At any point when it takes damage, standard gear loses this condition and becomes shabby gear. Shabby gear: shabby gear sells at half the listed price. Wearing 2 or more pieces of shabby gear gives the wearer a -1 penalty on any Charisma-based skill checks, and the gear itself takes a -1 condition penalty against any effects that would cause it damage. At any point when it takes damage, shabby gear falls apart and is no longer usable. A way of enforcing this is an old rule hidden away somewhere in the 3.5 Dungeon Masters’ Guide, I think, which said that every time a player failed a save, one piece of their gear from the “outside in” had to make a save or take damage. So shields, then cloaks, then armour and clothing, and so on. It would make for actual degradation of clothing and gear, much more like you see in movies and TV (and, unfortunately, real life), but does add an extra level of record-keeping and extra rolls, which may not be your cup of tea. Give it a try, and let me know what you think! (Originally posted on Game Masters Stash on 6 February 2019) D&D sometimes gets a bit “by the numbers”... go to a place, fight some monsters, evade a trap, get treasure, lather, rinse, repeat. It doesn’t have to be!
Classics stories have some amazing and crazy off-the-wall adventures happening within them, stuff that makes it really feel like fantasy, rather than Monster Generator v58.3. The picture I’ve chosen for today’s post is Emily Balivet’s “Orpheus and Eurydice”, inspired by the Greek legend wherein Orpheus, a bard, walks into the underworld, domain of Hades, the God of the Dead, to steal away the soul of his wife Eurydice. Stealing a concept, like the soul of a dead person, or the light of the sun itself, makes for a really different kind of idea. Theseus fought a Giant who welcomed strangers into his castle and then stretched them on the rack until they were as tall as him (spoiler: humans do not survive being “stretched”). Egyptian mythology has Isis gathering the dismembered sections of her husband Osiris, and bringing them back together to restore him to life after being slain by his brother Set. In Norse mythology, Loki brokers a peace with angry Frost Giants by tying one end of a rope to the beard of a goat, and the other end to his testicles, and then losing a tug-of-war with the goat. Hey, I warned you they were crazy! So don’t be afraid to make your adventures interesting and mythic- don’t just fight monsters, go for a real adventure, in the classical tradition! (Originally posted on Game Masters Stash on 5 February 2019) Sleep’s easy- everyone spends a third of their lives doing it, right? (Okay, not Elves, but everyone else)
What if you couldn’t, though? I mean, I’m probably preaching to the converted right now, but it can seriously mess you up being tired. The Fatigued condition (from 3.5) reads: “A fatigued character can neither run or charge and takes a -2 penalty to Strength and Dexterity. Doing anything that would normally cause fatigue caused the fatigued character to become exhausted. After 8 hours of complete rest, fatigued characters are no longer fatigued.” Which... kinda works. Like many things in D&D, it punishes physical characters while leaving spellcasters mostly unaffected. It also really understates the effect that fatigue has on your brain, and on your body (Circadian rhythms, and so on). We know from medical studies that people who are fatigued have terrible co-ordination, concentration, and can’t communicate well or even fight off diseases well. What I’d recommend for ease of implementation, as well as being more balanced, is below: Fatigued (condition): Fatigued characters take a -1 penalty on all d20 rolls, and a -4 penalty on Concentration checks. Doing anything that would normally cause fatigue caused the fatigued character to become exhausted. After 8 hours of complete rest, fatigued characters are no longer fatigued.” Exhausted (condition): Exhausted characters take a -2 penalty on all d20 rolls, and a -8 penalty on Concentration checks. These penalties stack with those for being Fatigued. After 1 hour of complete rest, an exhausted character becomes Fatigued. An Exhausted character who would gain the Fatigued or Exhausted condition must make an additional Fortitude save each round (DC 15) or become Helpless (asleep) for 1 hour or unless woken. This easily simulates a -2 to all ability score modifiers- making you worse at actually *doing* stuff, but doesn’t mean you suddenly can’t carry things, or lose spell slots. It’s more easy to remember on the fly that you’ve just got a general -1, than “-2 on those scores which means -1 on these checks and some damage and...”. In addition, the -4 on Concentration checks means it still has an effect for spellcasters, without being just “lose a slot”. This means that keeping enemies awake, or attacking while they’re tired/sleeping is a really effective tactic (as it should be). For Goblins, banging pots and pans out in the woods for nights on end is an easy task, but the terrifying effect it has on people who can’t sleep because of it, and make poor decisions, have poor reactions, and can’t communicate or defend themselves as well, is well worth the effort before a raid. (Originally posted on Game Masters Stash on 4 February 2019)
Being a Game Master is already hard- you’ve got to deal with your players’ wacky antics, try to get on with an ongoing plot, control the whole rest of the world... and our job is to make that all easier for you.
Keeping a Session Record Sheet for each game helps you to keep track of NPCs you’ve invented, or that your players have cheated/stolen from/murdered. It helps you track how much experience you’ve given out, and how much gold, and how many magic items (and what they are!). It can also let you track what kinds of creatures your players are defeating, whether it’s just for tracking how many of the crime boss’ minions you’ve taken out, or if you want to do some cool infographics to track progress. You can also keep these in a folder or something so that you can refer back to them, and track what’s been going on, how much time has passed, and how the evil villain’s plan is going. So with that in mind, I’ve created a Game Masters Stash- branded one, so you can print a pile of these and use them to help in tracking your game, and making your Game Mastering even easier! (Originally posted on Game Masters Stash on 3 February 2019) Grimlocks, the sightless monsters of the deep earth, are a terrifying foe to face. Their rage knows no bounds, and their might is considerable.
Grimlocks usually dwell only in the deeper caverns of the Earth, but occasionally send raiding parties upwards to the lighted lands seeking slaves, resources, food, and entertainment. Most humanoids fulfill all four of these requirements. Grimlocks use sound to see, making them vulnerable to sonic attacks, but this is mostly unknown to surface-dwellers. Instead they are known only for their eyeless faces and their almost purr-like trill as they hunt in the utter darkness. Although they can sense light (it causes them discomfort and pain), they have no innate magical abilities to counter it, but will instead attempt to extinguish or cover any sources of light when they raid. Some Grimlocks, mutated from the underground magical radiation, have developed additional limbs or heads, making them even more dangerous. Much like the Bear Folk from Michael Crichton’s The 13th Warrior, these secretive and gruesome warriors strike in numbers, overwhelming defenders and leaving them startled and afraid. They try not to leave any sign of their presence, lest they be hunted in return. The very few who have ever escaped them barely retain any shred of sanity, describing only endless darkness and snuffling and screaming. How you can use Grimlocks in your game: • Grimlocks are a tough, dangerous foe to threaten your players with. If you want, wholesale lifting the ideas from The 13th Warrior works a treat- the violent and brutal Grimlocks strike without much warning or trail. • For a party who ventures into the Underdark, having foes who are smart, but unlikely to bargain in any way can be useful. Grimlocks are wise enough to pick off casters (perhaps by grappling them and carrying them off) before others can attempt to attack them again. • If you want to present Grimlocks in any kind of positive light (sure, but why?), painting them as being a long-ago-banished race who have mutated in the Dark works alright. You could have them warring against some kind of illusion-using race like Drow, making their brutal paranoia and xenophobia almost justified. (Originally posted on Game Masters Stash on 2 February 2019) Literally everyone knows that going and making a bargain with the Bog Witch will end badly. Everyone has been told... but what’s on offer is sometimes so enticing, and what’s being asked is so trivial, that maybe you’ve just got a good deal?
Bargaining with Hags is always an affair fraught with danger. But here’s the thing- Hags are amazing manipulators and planners. When they ask for your firstborn child, it’s not because they want to eat them- that would be far too mustache-twirlingly evil. No, instead they spin a story about how lonely they are, and how they’ve always wanted a child to raise as their own, and how the presence of an innocent might temper their own behaviour. What a Hag requests is always reasonable, without any context... it’s when they want it, or how they want it delivered, that makes it ghastly. In my game this week, a woman had made a bargain to make her partner’s farm more profitable, for the first and last wagons of oats from the harvest. She didn’t tell her partner about the bargain, and so he failed to deliver, leading to him being captured by the Hag at their wedding. When she led the PCs to the Hag’s lair, they bargained to have him set free, and the party’s Knight was given information (which she desperately wanted) on how to find the last descendant of the King, if she promised to place a specific ring on his finger, as the Hag was fulfilling a promise she made long ago. Now, hands up if you saw warning signs there? You did, excellent! How many of you would still take the bargain? On a side note, another player pickpocketed the Hag, and stole a coin which the Hag had previously asked her to simply deliver to a particular merchant, on a specific day. Who thinks that’s going to end poorly? There are a few important things to consider as a Game Master when making a bargain for a Hag: • Assume the Hag knows a lot more than the PCs (a combination of scrounge, foresight, and mundane prediction) • Find loopholes. Make loopholes. Make loopholes big enough to drive a wagon through, and make the PCs see them, then use a different one. • Make it sound easy. Make it sound like the Hag is just asking for the simplest thing in the world. And sometimes, it will be. What comes after might be the stinger. • Make it go wrong. Promised to deliver something to someone before they die? Have them hit by a wagon as the PCs approach them, or crushed by a falling building, something that seems ridiculously unlikely. • Make the consequences sinister and creepy. The Hag will want revenge or repayment if you don’t deliver, so she’ll take it out on (some squishy inconsequential target). Or she took your eye, or fingernail, or breath, as a consequence. • Leave a way out. You can always make another bargain with the Hag. This one won’t be nice though. It might be running over a man with a wagon before someone else can talk to him, or killing a kid before they become a wizard, or something horrifying. How you can use Hag Bargains in your game: • At low levels, a Hag is almost unbeatably strong- dozens of hit points, physically and magically powerful, and likely in a location where they have an advantage. If you make this clear up-front, the PCs are more likely to listen rather than simply rolling for initiative. • Sending a group to make a bargain with the Hag for someone else (a noble or Lord, for example) might have dire consequences. • Have the consequences up front- someone failed or defaulted in their bargain, and they need help. Maybe the only way to save them will be going to kill a different Hag, who knows? (Originally posted on Game Masters Stash on 1 February 2019) |
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