A Talk of Glory

While I've not heard how the characters for Super Fantasy Brawl are recruited to the Arena I couldn't help wonder if it was a bit something like this.

Image from Super Fantasy Brawl by Mythic Games

The room was sparse but nice. The furniture was comfortable and hand-made. A table, some chairs, and a warm bed filled the space. At the foot of the bed was a dark chest, similar to the one he had placed at the end of his bunk in the barracks.

It reminded Dugrun of home. Except the walls. These weren’t like the keep in the Frostfel Mountains. The walls at home were smooth grey stone. These were a coarse tan sandstone. He ran his fingers across the surface of the nearest one. It was rough and weak. Though there were no tool marks which showed a level of care to them.

There was a sturdy door in one wall. Though, thick oak by the look of it. Iron braces held it together. It was undoubtedly locked. Dugrun would see to that in a moment. That and a way to defend himself, his hammer, shield, and war horn were absent.

He turned his attention to the last feature, a wide window was fixed in a far wall. A set of curtains similar to the ones his mum had were hung over them. One side was pulled open to reveal a bright sky with few clouds. A harsh sun shone down from above marking it close to midday.

He heard a cheer from outside the window. There was a crowd. From the sound, it was massive. Dugrun moved to see the view and perhaps get a better idea of what was going on, who had taken him, and maybe even how they had done it.

Far below a battle was being held in an arena. Five warriors clashed around three statues. No wait, it was six. One of them had been burrowing under the sand and burst out to attack a tigeran warrior. The crowd cheered as the gladiators blades clashed.

“There’s a bowl of stew on the table fer ye.”

Dugrun moved back from the window and grabbed one of the chairs. He held it in front of himself to ward off any blows from the person. A stout figure sat in the shadow of the closed curtain. Dugrun tried to make out some features of the shadowy form who watched the match below with a detached interest.

“Who are ye?” asked Dugrun.

“A friend.” The figure kept his eyes on the fight below.

Dugrun began to move towards the door behind him.

“Calm down,” said the figure. “If they’d wanted to hurt you they’d have done it. You’re safe.”

Dugrun paused and slowly set the chair down and sat angling himself to be able to see the door and the figure obscured in the window.

“Eat the stew before it gets cold. It’s yer favorite.”

“Not possible,” said Dugrun. “I only like me ma’s stew.”

“Try it then.”

Dugrun reached out a cautious hand and took the bowl. He sniffed the thick mixture of gravy, meat, and vegetables. It certainly smelled like his ma’s. He dipped a tentative finger in the liquid and tasted it. It was his ma’s.

“Told ye it was yer favorite,” said the shadow.

Dugrun ignored the two spoons in the middle of the table and took the half loaf of bread. He tore a chunk off and began scooping the stew up with the crusty ends as he had when he was a child.

“How do ye have me ma’s stew?” asked Dugrun. “She’s been gone for…”

“Some six years,” said the figure. “I know. It’s what they do here.”

“It’s not all they do here,” said Dugrun motioning towards the window.

“True.”

Outside there was a crack of thunder and the figure let out a bark of laughter as the crowd cheered.

“What happened?” asked Dugrun.

“Gwaien,” said the figure as if it had answered the question. “You’ll understand later.”

“Is that what they mean for us to do?” asked Dugrun. “Fight for the crowds?”

“Aye,” said the figure. “If ye wish to. I did.”

“What if I say no?” asked Dugrun. “Will they just let me out of the locked room to go home?”

“Ye can leave when ye want,” said the figure. “Doors not locked. Exit’s out and to the right. Third door down. It’ll take you home. Yer kit’s in the chest.”

Dugrun walked over and opened the chest. The figure was telling the truth, Dugrun’s hammer, shield, and war horn sat neatly placed in the chest. They had been cleaned and polished to a shine. He strapped everything in place and walked to the door.

“Thank ye fer the stew. It brought back good memories.”

“It always does,” said the figure.

Dugrun opened the door and looked out of the room. He was in a large barracks. The outer edge of the room was ringed with doors; some open and some not. A large practice area was set in the middle of the room. Several training dummies were set around the room at regular intervals.

A large troll in heavy armor was eviscerating a trio of dummies with his claws. As soon as he was done he stepped back and yelled, “Again.” The dummies quickly stitched themselves back together. The troll took a deep breath and started again.

“Do ye want to know the prize fer fightin?” asked the figure.

Dugrun looked back at the figure in the room. “Is that yer job?” he asked. “To recruit me?”

“Not exactly,” said the figure. “I’m more here to get you ready to be recruited.”

 “What could they possibly offer me?”

“What do ye want?”

“Money, power, the usual,” said Dugrun.

“No,” said the figure. “I didn’t say ‘what do ye think they’re offering.’ I said ‘what do ye want?”

“They don’t have it,” said Dugrun.

“Try me.”

“Home. I want a home.”

“Just any old place,” said the figure. “Nice little picket fence and some roses? That’s what ye’d like?” The figure paused. “Tell me what you want. Deep down in the core of yer being. In yer soul.”

“Dundurin,” said Dugrun. “I want them to last. I want them to thrive. The mountains and my people who live there.”

“Done.”

“What,” asked Dugrun.

“Done,” said the figure. “If you win, they’ll live on for all time. Just as ye asked.”

Dugrun stopped. “How do they do that? How is it possible?”

“It is,” said the figure. “I’m not good at explaining it. They’ll have someone along who can do better than I.”

“What do I have to do?” asked Dugrun. “How many do I have to kill? How long must I play in their games? Is it till I die or become so broken I can’t go on?”

“Neither,” said the figure. “All of them. There’s a tournament going on below us right now. Each of the wizards involved have chosen a few heroes and villains from throughout - whenever and we face off to see who makes the best team. Be a part of the team that wins everything and ye’ll get yer wish.”

“How long does it take?” asked Dugrun.

“That is a hard question to answer,” said the figure. “The tournament is a few weeks but you’ll take part over most of yer life. Stepping in and out depending on where in the tournament the match is taking place.”

“How many fights have you had,” asked Durgun.

“I don’t believe I’m allowed to say. Don’t want to spoil the surprise.”

“Is there ever an end to it?”

“Aye,” said the figure. “I just fought my last match a few hours ago. I’m spending time to watch an old friend face their final opponent. They let ye do that.”

“I’m meant to replace ye?”

The figure laughed.

Dugrun’s hand rested on the shaft of his hammer. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” said the figure. “It’s just that I remember asking that question and getting mad at the answer. It just struck me now. The things ye remember.”

“Any advice before ye leave?”

“Watch yer left,” said the figure. “Beware the skies, and try and remember to make new friends. Ye’ll be working with and against everyone here. Ye’ll not like them all but ye will love some. Some will be like brothers and sisters. One may be more. When ye remember to let them.”

Dugrun let go of the door handle. “Can they really do it? What you said?”

“Yes,” said the figure.

“Then I think I’ll stay.”

“I know.”

Dugrun looked at the figure through the curtain. “Have you recruited so many that you never fail?”

“Yer the first,” said the figure. “Ye’ll only ever take part in this little chat twice. Once from that end. Once from this un.”

“Thank ye,” said Dugrun. “What’s yer name old timer?”

“Not sure I’m allowed to say.”

“Then how will I speak of ye?” asked Dungrun. “I must call ye something when I speak of this?”

“If ye must call me something call me Warden.”

“Goodbye Warden,” said Dugrun as he exited the room.

“Good luck,” said the Warden smiling. “We’re gonna need it.”

end

If you're interested in the games lore and characters check out the Super Fantasy Brawl Facebook page.

A Classic Family Game

This past Saturday was Free Role-Play Game Day, or Free RPG Day. This is a fun little event that happens every year. A bunch of publishers chip in and build a box of sample modules and other bits to help promote the hobby. Stores all over get copies of the box and run events over the course of the day. People can show up and play in games, get free copies of some books, and spend the day talking to people about games.

I spent my Saturday at my local game store, Epic Loot in Centerville. Every year they put together a great experience where people can come and try new games, meet new people, and spend their time enjoying themselves. They set aside their large game room and reserve tables for this. I was going to run 3 games for them.

I got my adventures ahead of time and read through and prepared to play them on the day. I was excited to see that one of my games was the adventure from Goodman Games line of Dungeon Crawl Classics. It was a fun adventure that should take around two to three hours. And it was a character funnel.

If you don’t know, a character funnel is a very deadly dungeon where players get two or more randomly generated characters and go into an adventure where it is designed to kill them. The extra characters are so they can keep playing after death. I had a ton of fun reading this and was excited to see how the game would go.

When I arrived Saturday morning and went to my table I met my first group and was immediately nervous. My players were a family. A father and his two kids, a son and a daughter. In itself this was not a problem. My fear came from the ages. The children were roughly four and six. I was about to run a four and six year old through an adventure that was designed to be punishing, difficult, and to murder their characters. I wasn’t sure how well they’d take it.

We introduced ourselves and the dad told me that they had seen him playing with his group the night before and wanted to try a game. When he learned about Epic Loot’s Game Day he decided to come down and try out a game with the kids. Normally, an admirable goal and one I would have welcomed heartily.

I didn’t want to shoo them away and I didn’t want to tell them they couldn’t play. I decided to go with tact. I explained the system and the game to them. I told them what would be happening and how the game would work. I made sure to stress the lethal nature of the adventure.

The dad said they’d be okay and the kids were excited to play. With that covered we rolled up two characters for each of them. (Due to age, I’m not going to use their names or share any of my pictures from that sessions.)

DCC funnels are a fun experience. You get a level one character that is completely randomly rolled. This includes traditional things like the hero’s statistics and hit points, but also throws race and equipment into the hopper. Being level zero, they don’t even get adventuring classes. Which is why we had a party consisting of a gypsy, a farmer, a blacksmith, a glove maker, a baker, and seamstress. The racial makeup included a human, two halflings, and three dwarves.

The daughter had the strongest characters with the best stats and full hit points across the board. The son was the weakest with the lowest stats and two characters with a single hit point each. They entered the dungeon and everything went well for them until they got to the first trap.

We were all having fun and the daughter managed to have one of her characters set off the trap. She died instantly in a single dice roll. I held my breath. How would she react? We’re we finished playing now? Was this the end of our time together?

Now, I realize there was an easy fix for this. I could have not killed her character. I could have run the adventure on easy mode, let the characters live, and let the kids just win. I thought about it. I really did. Ultimately, the reason I didn’t go with it was that I had made a big deal about how hard the dungeon is, how hard the encounters are, and how deadly it is. I felt that if I’d gone through all of that and then let them all just win it would diminish the experience. A funnel is a specific kind of things and I wanted to give them that. Also, the next slot had a session of Dungeons and Doggos and I figured they could have the fun family friendly session there.

I made sure to highlight that they each got two heroes for when one of them died. I even pointed out how in a funnel when I was a player I lost all of my characters but someone who still had extras gave me one of theirs. I’d hoped that I had seeded enough of an upside that losing a character would be easy or at least, not hard. I really hoped that the dad would be the first to lose a character so the kids could laugh about it. Unfortunately, it was the daughter.

She laughed. She thought it was funny that she’d died. With that out of the way we moved on. Over the next two hours I killed five of the six characters. They were killed by traps and monsters. In the end the final room, the son had one of the best moments I’ve ever had playing an RPG. He saw an army of soldiers coming to destroy him and asked if he could run over them using their helmets as stepping stones. I let him roll for it. He failed. He managed to survive one more round because I made some remarkably bad rolls. Which I didn’t fudge. In the spirit of the funnel I rolled everything in the open. He managed to force his way through the army, the only one left, and face against the warlord. He raised his spear and hit. The warlord staggered. Swung back and missed. The son raised his spear, his family cheering him on, and struck the warlord in the chest killing him instantly.

He won.

He defeated the enemy and with the last line of story from the module asked if he could go on and face the next threat hinted at in the last line.

There’s a second adventure in the module. The dad took a copy and promised them they could play it at home with mom.

I was glad I was there for it. I’m glad I let myself run the adventure. I’m glad I didn’t let them win. I maybe let a couple of things go their way that might not have otherwise, but I didn’t let them win.  In the end we all had fun. The kids laughed for a few hours. Dad got to play games with his kids. I maybe helped get two new players into role-play games.

I always have fun on Free RPG Day. I have many stories from all the years I’ve taken part in this event. However, I think this will be one of the better memories for me. Because of who it was and how it went; how badly it could have gone.

To that family, if you’re out there, thanks for letting me play with you.

A Cursed Man

I’ve been walking through my old stories and D&D memories lately. In keeping with that I thought I’d post a story about an old friend’s character.

Jeff was part of the group I ran through the Pools of Radiance. It was notable as the first large scale story I had run. When rolling our characters we used a book full of random background charts that helped you give your characters a history. The charts gave you things like raised on a farm, at sea, or in a thieves den. You could learn about forgotten fortunes, lost magic, and overthrown kingdoms. In Jeff’s case his character was the son of Clangeddin Silverbeard, the dwarven god of war. As a result of this Paden Deckhandler had a strength of 20 in a system where 18(100) was the maximum a player character could have.

Paden carried a wrecking ball sized flail, wore heavy plate armor, and tended to carry the majority of the party’s treasure because we used the old encumbrance rules. They help clear the town of New Phlan. The town had once been a thriving metropolis and was now overrun by hordes of evil. The group was one of a band of mercenaries who answered the call to clear the old sections of the town in exchange for some amount of money and any treasure they found.

The players formed a party, entered the city, and started taking jobs to clear the area in and around New Phlan. This included a graveyard north of the city. A graveyard that housed an immense ziggurat. The party entered the undead filled area and battled their way to the top of the ziggurat, destroyed the necromancer in his throne room, and gathered his treasure. One of the many things they discovered was a magic ring.

Paden took the ring and after identifying it as a ring of strength he put it on. His strength jumped by four points to a massive, world shattering 24. He was now on par with giants, dragons, smaller titans, and lesser gods.  The group took their just rewards and headed through the graveyard and back to the city proper.

Unfortunately, there were two things the group had not accounted for. First, they had not cleared the graveyard and there were still a few pockets of undead roaming the area. The second, was that the ring was cursed. They discovered these two things in rapid succession.

A band of patrolling skeletons had attacked the group. The skeletons were a minor threat. The party had handled groups twice their size many times and felt that this would be no different. Paden, excited to try his new strength, prepared for battle. He drew his mace, told the rest of the group to stay back and let him handle it, swung the mace above his head to twirl it in a show of bravado, and fell over backwards. He was now pinned to the ground by his armor, weapons, and the half ton of treasure he carried in his backpack, several sacks, and a small chest strapped to the top.

The ring was one of weakness not strength. It worked like this. It boosted the wearer’s strength artificially while quietly sapping one point every thirty minutes until the wearer was reduced to a strength of 1. They had camped in the necromancer’s throne room to wait for healing and spells. Long enough for the full effect of the ring. However, in a move that was purely diabolical, the ring only reveals its true nature when the wearer is under duress. Like entering combat.

The group’s main form of damage and protection was now pinned to the ground. However, as I said, the skeletons weren’t much of a threat and the rest of the party was easily able to dispatch the beasts. Afterwards, they removed Paden from his armor and tried to figure out what had happened. It didn’t take long for the wizard in the group to determine that the ring was cursed. To remove it would require one of two possible methods. They would need to go back to New Phlan and have remove curse cast upon it. However, they’d have to leave behind most of their treasure since no one else could possibly carry it.

Then there was always the other way.

Paden burrowed a dagger from the king of thieves, (that background book had some intense swings), took a lit torch, and walked into the graveyard alone. He walked away from the path in a graveyard that was eternally shrouded with thick fog. A fog that blocked the light of his torch. He found a quiet area near a tomb. He looked for a grave marker that denoted a holy man. He took a moment to pray to his father. It was a simple thought, a quiet moment between father and son. There was no response save a warm breeze amidst a cold night. Paden then rested the hand with the ring on it atop the tombstone, used the dagger to remove his finger, and the torch to cauterize the wound to stop the bleeding.

Then he was attacked by the patch of skeletons he’d walked into the middle of.

Because of the fog it took the group a couple of rounds to find him, despite his cries for help. It also attracted the last two groups of monsters in the graveyard, which included an undead Minotaur. Wearing no armor, wielding nothing but a dagger, and reduced to a strength that included massive penalties to hit and damage, Paden held off death until the rest of the party arrived.

The other thing I remember about this night, the one thing not written in my notes, is how Jeff reacted to the events. He smiled. Jeff had been happy the entire time this happened. He was having fun.

I’ve played with a lot of people over the years. Through home groups, local clubs, and conventions. I’ve played with all manner of players. There are many who would not have taken the events of the evening as well as Jeff did.

I like playing with Jeff. It was always fun to sit at the table where Jeff played. He loved getting into character. From the solemn moment spent praying to his father to playing an actor pretending to be a paladin in cardboard armor at a convention where he stood on his chair and pantomimed trying to kill a fly with his rapier for a little girl’s frog. Jeff is always a trip.

I don’t expect everyone to play like Jeff did. In fact I don’t think I’ve ever played with anyone like Jeff. I’ve had role-players at my table, I’ve had roll-players at my table, but mostly I’ve had a happy medium. No one has ever played their character as hard as Jeff did.

I think it’s why I appreciate players who really try to play their character. It reminds me of the early days and the lunatic who fell over backward and got pinned to the ground in his own armor and was happy about it.

In recent times a conversation comes up from time to time about playing with the folks who stream games, usually Critical Role. I’ve never wanted to play with them. I know I can’t keep up with what they do. However, I’d love to watch Jeff take a crack at it. I think he’d hold his own in that group. It’s probably why I enjoy those shows so much.

What’s Old is New

I watched the D&D Descent live stream that happened this weekend. While I have no doubt I’ll talk about what I saw and what is coming at a later point. Right now I want to talk about how it got me thinking about what came before. I’ll explain in a bit, but first I want to give a little context.

Let me tell you about Thayrel. He is an angel. Once a mighty warrior. He led armies against the forces of evil and chaos. He battled demon armies and dark gods. In one particular battle, fought on the edge of creation, he sacrificed everything to save us all. In one move, he lost his wings, his leg, and his eyes.

Before the war, he had been an artist. He painted sunsets for mortals to see. He chose vibrant colors and washed them across the skies. He gave that up to a sword stroke from a long dead deity that no one remembers anymore. With his eyes gone he’d lost his first love, color.

He was retired. Given his reward of choice. He asked for a little place to call his own. A small shop where he might find people to feed, strangers to make friends, and a world he might bring a small amount of joy to. He was given a shop in Sigil, the city of doors. He sold coffee and baked goods. He smiled at every customer and welcomed them in to his space. He was loved.

And until recently, I had completely forgotten he existed.

Recently, I talked about an old villain I created a long time ago for Planescape. In that piece I talked about how I found a treasure trove of old notes and ideas. It got me looking over older characters that I used as merchants, enemies, quest givers, victims, folks in need of rescue, and just people they came across on a daily basis.

All of these notes were in an old box of D&D things that I packed away when I moved two or three times ago. They never got unpacked for some reason. Probably shelf space and laziness.

Planescape existed in this place between realms where anything and everywhere were connected by portals and gates. This allowed me to use creatures I’ve never used before. Not just as monsters but also just people they knew. One of my players had a landlord from one of the lower planes. This was a unique world to exist and play in. It let us do so many new things.

I’ve often wanted to go back to Planescape to revisit those characters and ideas but there was never a time for it. I never had a setting that felt appropriate.

Now, Avernus is coming to us. We’re going to see one of the Hells. A place of war, chaos, and grim deals. A place filled with Devils, demons, and warlords.

I can bring back Grishnak the Unkillable, Destroyer of Worlds, a Kobold Barbarian with a quest for a warband. I can give him a crew of lunatics and some war machines. Let them run across the planes of Avernus in search of soul coins and power. I can dredge up Thayral. There’s a caravan that travels around Avernus that offers safeish harbor. I feel an Angelic baker might fit in there.

These wonderful friends I haven’t seen in so long can come back now. Every merchant, villain, quest giver, magic item, organization, and hapless side character can come back. Even the ones I had forgotten.

The long point of this story is this. If you’re a new DM and are building worlds and characters; moving them to and fro. If you’ve created a setting, campaign, or just a one shot adventure. Try and save your notes. I never expected Grishnak to become a thing, and yet he is fun to play. Thayral started as a faceless coffee shop owner and baker before I added the rest of the story when the players decided they liked the bakery and asked questions of the smiling blind man behind the counter. You never know who will be a grand thing. Who you will need years later.

When we stopped playing in Planescape I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get to go back. I still may never get that chance. However, because I kept those notes. Because I got so lucky and found them at just the right time. I may get to use them again.

Keep your notes. Hoard them like a dragon’s treasure. Because you never know when the dwarves will open the gates and let you fly again.

Accidental Antagonist

The first recurring villain I created for my D&D group was an accident. I had set an end fight for the first adventure of a new campaign. The monster at the end went from a one off combat to a continuous thorn in their side. It all happened because of a failed saving throw. That was how my villain’s story began.

We had decided to adventure in Planescape. The city of Sigil was a new setting and we were hot off of flying around Spell Jammer and wanted to try a more on the ground setting. Sigil was our first city campaign. The adventures were all going to start inside the city limits but would be able to branch out into where ever we needed them to. This was mostly based on the unique quality of Sigil that made it the City of Doors.

Since we’d never played a city campaign before I had decided to start everyone with a slight bit of familiarity. I sent them into the closest thing I could come to a dungeon; the sewers.

They were chasing a couple of kobold thieves who had run off with a small piece of the group’s property. They followed them into the sewer system for Sigil and trailed the thieves back to their warren. It was fairly standard adventure from there. They moved from section to section looking for traps and killing kobolds. The enemies were mostly standard kobold fighters with a couple of shamans. I think there were a couple of pet attack rats thrown in for good measure.

As they neared the end they began to hear whispers of Grishnak. Some of the kobolds mentioned him and what the terrible violence he would wreak against the players. I used wreak a lot back then; less so now, it sounded fantasy to me.

The group began to wonder what sort of monster Grishnak was. A goblin or possibly an orc. He couldn’t be an ogre. They were only level one. I wouldn’t throw an ogre at a first level party.

They entered the final room. A large area decorated with furs and stolen, broken, and discarded furniture. It was built across a large chamber where the wash from the sewers gathered into a rushing torrent. The floor was the metal grating over the rapids of filth that raced towards a large waterfall into the abysmal depths below.

Standing in the center of the area was Grishnak the Unkillable, Destroyer of Worlds; a level two kobold barbarian. He wore slightly too large studded leather armor that had clearly been made for someone larger. A scar down one side of his face hinted at previous combat. In his claws he carried a battle ax that glowed with an inner light.

We had come across the rules for giving monsters class levels and I decided to give Grishnak two levels of barbarian. I was even playing around with voices for some of my characters. In this instance I went with high pitched and a bit squeaky. Think Invader Zim.

I remember creating the description to fit the party. One of the members of the group was a Halfling and the armor would have fit him. Glowing with an inner light was our group’s cue that the weapon was enchanted, in this case a +1. It would have been the first piece of magic treasure for the group aside from a couple of potions.

I liked the fight because I’d given Grishnak an ability that let him shove people around if he hit for enough damage. I thought it would be fun to knock a couple of PC’s off the platform into the water below. I’d come up with some rules for what would happen. They got a save to grab the edge of the platform as they fell. If they hit the water there was enough space between them and the falls to make a swim check. They could either hold their position or if they rolled well enough get to one of the ladders on either side of the water. I also made allowances for another party member to throw them a rope and help them.

As is often the case for any Dungeon Master, I didn’t account for one thing. One of my players also had knockback on his character.

The fight started pretty well. The players dwarf fighter got hit and went off the edge. He made his save and was able to grab the ledge and start pulling himself back up. Grishnak got in a couple of more good hits. He focused the healer who was quickly in a bad way. The fighter made his climb check with a little help from the mage and was back in the fight.

The dwarf ran forward and struck Grishnak with his flail and launched him backwards towards the edge of the walkway. Grishnak failed his save and went over the edge. The group fired arrows and spells at him to get him while he was in the water. They mostly missed. Then Grishnak had a chance to save himself with a swim check. It wasn’t even a particularly difficult check. Most likely he’d survive. He had a good strength and could make the swim to shore roll fairly easily. Even if he didn’t hit that it would be really hard for him to fail the stay in place roll. I rolled a two. Grishnak, his armor, and magic axe sailed over the falls and he was gone.

This should have ended the epic story of Grishnak the Unkillable, Destroyer of Worlds. Except, I ran a Christmas adventure. We were approaching the holiday and I wanted to run something fun and a little silly. The group was around level five and I wanted to give them some fun stuff to deal with.

I decided to have Santa Claus hire the group through an intermediary. They were to go liberate a small town from a local lord who had gone mad with power and taxes. Using the power of Sigil I sent them to a small more traditional fantasy setting. To defeat the lord they needed to infiltrate his keep. There was a small side entrance that wasn’t as sturdy as the main way into the keep. The group decided to use this. I had them encounter some traps. Fight against a blind swordsman with a sword that had a permanent darkness spell cast on the blade so when it was drawn everything in sixty feet was cloaked in shadows.

Just before reaching the lord they faced Grishnak. I’d leveled him up a bit to match the party and gave him some better equipment, a lot more health, and a couple of minions. These included a kobold shaman.

The fight went well. The group waded in and started hacking away at Grishnak’s war band. The shaman cast a couple of buffs on Grishnak making him stronger and ramping his armor class. Grishnak spent one round taunting the group for what they had done to him. Then, with a bellow of rage, Grishnak got stuck in and nearly one shot the warrior with a critical hit.

The priest immediately responded with by fearing Grishnak and running him out of the room. The spell forced Grishnak to move as fast as he could directly away from the caster. This sent him sprinting deeper into the dungeon. Past the lord and into the treasure room.

At this point Grishnak made a partial save and stopped moving. He was still feared but unable to move. This condition lasted until the group arrived and began fighting the lord and his men. It faded as the group was finishing off the room.

I decided that Grishnak would see this and opt for the better part of valor. He grabbed what he could carry, a sack of gold and a girdle of giant strength. With full hands Grishnak ducked out through an emergency secret door into another part of the keep. He then bailed on the entire job and left the castle through the main gate while the players were mopping up.

Grishnak would return a couple of more times. He worked for a mage, a lich, and mob boss. Every time through a failed save or moment of opportunity he would end up ducking out the back through a treasure room with sacks of gold and a magic item or two. He was always wearing the items he’d stolen from the previous adventures. Taunting the group with their past failures and escaping once again.

I’d love to tell you how Grishnak’s story ended. Unfortunately, like most campaigns, our Planescape journey fizzled and died. Lack of time and new and exciting interest in other things took hold. Grishnak is still out there wreaking havoc.

I used him one other time. He was an opponent in an X-Crawl I wrote for my friends. They battled him in DJ Drexel’s Dayton Crawl. Unfortunately, none of the players were the same so there was no recognition of who he was. I will use him again. If we venture into D&D in the near future Grishnak will return in some form. Perhaps he finally got that war band he always dreamed of and is now ravaging the northern lands. He may even have conquered a small barony or fiefdom.

I hadn’t meant to create Grishnak. He was essentially an accident of dice and circumstance. I’ve created other villains who were specifically designed to challenge the party and force them to suffer. To be thrown at them again and again. Sometimes there was a level of success and sometimes not. However the rest performed, Grishnak was my first. I’ll not say best, but then he’s the only one they never killed.

Hero Deaths

I like the player characters. I’m invested in their story. I want them to win, to succeed, and to defeat the villains. Because of this, I’m one of those DM’s who doesn’t like to kill his plyer’s characters.

That said, I’m willing to do it.

It’s just I like to give them a heroic end. I want them to have a glorious death, a moment in the sun, and a story worth the telling. I want them to feel like the enemy earned that characters death or at the least paid for it.

Because of this, I’m torn by one of the mechanics in Dungeons & Dragons; Death Saves. For those of you unfamiliar with this bit of game play. When a hero is reduced to zero or fewer hit points they fall unconscious and begin making Death Saves on their turn. They simply need to roll a ten or higher on a twenty sided dice. As long as they accomplish this they will be continue to be one of the living. However, if they fail this test three times then they die and will need to consider rolling a new character or finding a way for the party to bring them back through magic.

I understand this in theory. It gives the players a buffer so their characters don’t just die but also keeps the fear of death very real. It gives the rest of the party at least three rounds to do something to save their friend. They can heal them, bind their wounds, or end the fight. All of these conditions save the character giving them a second lease on life. With healing magic it even gets them back in the fight. They can help take down the big bad. These are all great things and let the players worry about death without living in terror of it.

The problem I have is that if a player fails three Death Saves they die. The character performs the equivalent of bleeding out on the floor. An act I don’t find particularly heroic.

Yes, there is a tension there. I’ve been at tables where everyone is trying to get to the point where they can heal that player after the second failed save. I’ve even been the cleric who’s had to choose between healing fighter who will drop if I don’t and healing the character who just failed his second Death Save. There is real tension there.

Still watching someone fail that final Death Save and silently bleed out just sticks in my craw. It never feels satisfying. It sucks the fun out of the game.

Sometimes it’s sad, sometimes dramatic, and sometimes they can be used for a call to action. Still there’s a moment where the game sort of stops because we couldn’t do anything about that. This hero who has had grand adventures has just died. Passed on into the night and is gone. It’s hardly epic or amazing.

When do players get their Boromir moment? That point where they take one arrow after another. That point where they have died several times over but keep fighting because it’s necessary. When do they get a moment like Kikuchiyo in Seven Samurai, Vasquez in Aliens, Tony Montana in Scarface, V in V for Vendetta, and most of the 300?

To be fair the Death Save does have one more part. If you roll a natural twenty then you get a restored to health and jump back into the game. I’ve seen this happen as well. It’s truly a great moment. It feels good. It’s not the same. That character lived.

My point here isn’t about the ones that lived. It’s about the ones who fell.

When I’m not playing D&D and someone dies, I like to give them one last action. I give the player bonuses, maximum damage, and tons of fun little boosts. They can’t save themselves but they get one last drive to turn the tide, save the day, or hold the wall.

Then they die.

One last chance at glory. One last moment to shine.

The problem is that with the Death Saves, I feel like I’m robbing the moment as well as enforcing it. If a player fails their third death save and I have them suddenly leap up and be epic after lying their bleeding for three rounds. It doesn’t feel epic. It feels silly.

I like to give them some last words, maybe let their eyes flicker open and time slows so they can whisper a brief phrase of encouragement to a nearby party member. It’s a quieter moment, a sadder moment. It feels good but not the same epic moment that the other way falls.

I’ve considered giving players a choice. Maybe let them think their way through. Possibly get one last shot off with a ranged weapon, spell, or maybe a good throw dagger.

I don’t know. I may never know.

What about you? Have you ever come up with a different way to show character death?

Campaign Diary. Running a One Shot

We’ve gotten our group and have a rough idea about the type of story we want to tell. Where do I go from there? We have a lot of questions going forward. Do we like the system, the setting, and how everything works together? Because of this I’m going to run a one shot adventure.

I’ve decided to do this for a couple of reasons. First, I want to try the system. None of us have played in Cypher and it’ll be fun to give it the once over before we dive deep into it. This will give us a chance to see how things shake out and how we like the rules without getting too deeply in.

Second, it let me get familiar with the character creation system. This way I can walk the players through it if we decide to move forward. I’ll be able to give them the necessary tricks and tips I’ve learned from making the one shot heroes.

Third, we’re going to get to play in a superficial bit of the setting. We’ll get to play in the world and see how things shake out. I’m looking forward to getting a look at how these spies run around and do their thing.

In the end we’ll be able to see the system and setting, see how we like them, and then decided what to do going forward. If we like the story I’ll keep setting things up for that. If we like the Cypher system we’ll plan to keep using it. If one of these things falls flat we’ll try and come up with something new. If both of them are a bust then maybe we’ll burn that bridge when we come to it.

Because I’m going to run the mission as a one shot it’s going to let me try some things. First off, I’m going to run this as a, “men on a mission,” story. I expect very few of them to live. I’m making six characters for a three person party so they’ll have some backups if a couple of them die. Ideally, if anyone is killed during the game we can slot in one of the other characters.

One of the long term reasons for this is that it’ll set up my villains. With the group having played against them and seen PC’s die, it will hopefully give them a sense purpose. I want my players to hate this group. I could do this with a regular game, but then I’m killing PC’s that the group spent time on. By doing it this way, I’m only killing pre-gens and not characters they’ve put effort into. It will build an emotional connection to the villains without putting undo stress on the players.

To further slam that home, I’ve given them the code names of high level members of the villain’s organization. I’ve also given them descriptions of all but one of them. It’s my hope that when we get down to the last pre-gen I’ll be far enough into the story that I can have that character be revealed as a traitor. I know it’s a cheap trick, but I think it will focus their rage at the group and the betrayer. That way, when they get to create their own characters and go in it will focus them. I want this to add stakes to their missions. Push them harder when they’re going after this group and frustrate them when they have to go after someone else.

I’m also going to use the one shot to test a mechanic that’s not a part of the Cypher system. I want to add a flashback mechanic. I’m going to give each player a poker chip and at any point during the game they can turn in their chip to have a flashback. I won’t be able to effect this at all. This will be them showing the moment where they bribed a guard, got a piece of specialized equipment, picked up a map, or infiltrated an area to drop something off for when they went through later. Basically, I’m letting them do the heist film moment where we see the heroes in trouble only to flashback to four hours earlier when they left a set of handcuff keys in the cell.

I’m doing this because this is a spy game and I’m trying to recreate the fast moving style of the films and television of the 70’s and 80’s I don’t want to get bogged down in planning.  This is another reason to try this in a one shot. If it doesn’t work the players might want to plan their assaults and missions rather than getting thrown in. If they would rather plan we’ll drop this and let them plan. My thought is that using flashbacks will make up for limited time and allow us to drive the story.

Anyway, that’s a couple of the reasons I’m running a one shot of the Cypher System to see how the game works. In the end it may not matter. I’ll see where we go and how we get there.

I’ll be back next week to talk about something else. What would you like to hear about? Any questions?