Priorities

   My last campaign was called Cthulhu Gypsies and it was set in the province of Dobrogea, around 1845. We played 6 to 8 games a year, starting in december of 2007 and ending in some sort of gruesome Mi-Go tragedy around november of 2013. Six years, and over forty game sessions. At first, these games took place on Saturday afternoons, but we soon moved them to Sundays, because most of the players always had other engagements on Saturdays. Around 2010, game day moved again from Sunday afternoon to Wednesday evening between 6 and 10. But two out of three players came directly from work and were accordingly tired. They got there around 6:20, we chatted until 7, played from 7:15 to 9:20, and then someone already talked about “wrapping up”. Adventures progressed very, very slowly.

   Why is that exactly? Role-playing games aren’t “important” enough to set aside an entire Saturday afternoon / evening once every two months? Is it a question of priorities? What are your priorities? Watching the game with your buddies? Going to see a show? Salsa lessons with the wife? Dinner party? These are all very nice things, don’t get me wrong. All I am saying is this: if you’re only free for an evening of RPG fun when there is no big game on TV and no hot show downtown and no salsa lessons and no dinner party – then you lost the right to say you’re a tabletop gamer. Because you’re just a gamer when there is no other option in front of you. It’s like me and soccer. I went to see a match, once, because I had absolutely nothing else to do and someone invited me over and it was a nice July evening and tickets were only 17 bucks. But I cannot say with a straight face: “I am a soccer fan.”

   It’s also a little disrespectful to the hobby itself – Wednesday evenings between 6 and 10, really? Is that the best we can do? Other hobbies are treated with much more respect; poker, hiking, chess, golf, even scrapbooking: they all seem to deserve nice fat juicy Saturdays...

   If gaming is not in your top three slots for any Saturday evening, then you are not a gamer, you are someone who sits down on occasions to take part in some random gaming event, but that’s it – and it is not the same, sorry. Going to one soccer game in July and owning a season pass are two completely different things.

1        Dinner party with the gang

2        Gaming

3        TV night with two friends

   [That’s a gamer all right.]

1        Salsa lessons with the wife

2        Big game on TV

3        Gaming

   [That’s also a gamer.]

1        Salsa lessons with the wife

2        Dinner party with the gang

3        Going to see a show

4        Big game on TV

5        Barbecue with the in-laws

6        Lazy PS4 night + beer + chips

7        Gaming

   [That’s NOT a gamer.]

   Not being a gamer is no problem. You may be the coolest guy ever. Just stop pretending to be a gamer. It’s not a permanent status. You used to play D&D twice a week when you were seventeen? You were a gamer. Past tense.

   Sorry if I bursted your bubble, man.

Movie Franchise RPG vs TV Show RPG

   As I said in a previous post titled “Logical Illogical”, there was no story continuity when I used to play my Greyhawk ranger, back in the day. But now, it’s all about time-scheme and filling in whatever blanks there may be. So I’m already writing what the PCs did after the end of our last AD&D, because I know they’re gonna ask about this at the beginning of the next session.

   Why is that?

   In my opinion, it is the cultural influence of TV shows: we now know much more about our favorite characters than we did back in the heyday of movie heroes. Really, nobody knew what 007 did between the end of Casino Royale and the beginning of Dr. No, or between Octopussy and A View to a Kill. Movie franchises are very much like the old school modules. We play Dwellers of the Forbidden City. Next we tackle White Plume Mountain. What did we do in between? Nothing?

   Those Silver Age games introduced continuity in RPG campaigns – is it good, or is it bad? I don’t know, but it’s very similar to modern TV shows with their tight plots, web episodes, flash forwards / backwards / sideways, and interlocking season premieres and finales. Sooner or later we learn everything there is to learn about the heroes: blanks get filled in quickly, and it makes a lot of sense... except with Lost.

   So, players come to expect that.

   You can’t pluck them from a tropical island one week and throw them onto a snowy mountainside the next week without any explanation, like in a James Bond movie. Damn, our HBO era is not like the old MGM era: there is a heck of a lot more stuff to write and prepare, now!

Irem Talabheim Damascus

   I could flood this blog with hundreds of maps I’ve created over the years, but let’s just post the best of them all. This city map demanded a LOT of work – and it served me well in three different campaigns since 2003. First, it was the medieval town of Damascus in the year 630 A.D. Next, it served as my own version of Talabheim, in Warhammer. And last but not least, it became the dreaded desert city of Irem circa 1845, for my game of Cthulhu Gypsies. Lots of weird stuff happened in lots of those little houses and back alleys...

The Desperate Housewives One Page Dungeon

   Two summers ago I was in an exceptionally good mood, one of my friends was visiting from England, my other friends seemed to be in a great mood too, and I just wanted to throw a crazy one-shot game, so I just put in 5 to 6 hours of work and whipped together a Desperate Housewives intrigue. Yes, you read that right. I printed the map of Wisteria Lane available online, and nice pics of Bree, Suzan, Lynette, and Gaby, created their character records and skills (Bree is better with pills, Gaby has a sweet +25% when shopping, etc), and created a bunch of silly NPCs like the creepy mailman, the thieving nanny, the split personality insurance broker / serial killer, and so on.

 “Suzan attempts a Fast-Talk: she needs 30 to succeed, rolls 37.

Bree makes her Saving Throw vs Bullshit, and fails.”

   It would have been lots of fun... but my friends had other things planned every day for the entire summer. So that’s that.

   Desperate Housewives wasn’t the best TV show in the history of TV shows, but it was the only one my mom watched, and whenever I saw her we could laugh and talk about Suzan’s insane shenanigans or Lynette’s latest faux pas. It was great. Now that the Housewives are history, my mom watches Castle, which is cool too – but quite noticeably less silly.

   Still, looking at those character sheets and maps from two years ago, I can’t help but to think it would make an awesome one page dungeon!

Storium

   This is what a play-by-post would read like in my own circle of friends. Let’s pretend I’m the Narrator here, and three of my buddies play the game.

NARRATOR:

   Up on the surface, epidemiologists and religious scholars were probably scratching their bald heads trying to comprehend this most uncanny phenomenon: a Zombie Apocalypse affecting only a very specific area (Vatican City), and a very specific group (dead Popes). Nowhere else did anyone report seeing any sort of undead manifestations. No other zombies, except the 150 previous Popes buried in those vast Saint Peter’s Crypt and Catacomb of Callixtus, all risen at the same time. But why?

   No time to think about it now. You have to find a way out.

   The merchandise lift – it is the only escape route left. Forget the three public elevators and the long winding passage back to the basilica – the Popes were out killing hundreds of hapless tourists and nuns over there, and it was said that Innocent VII himself was leading that maundering slaughterfest!

   Madness. What other word to describe all of this?

   Before dying horribly at the hands of Pope Gregory XIV, one of the senior Swiss Guards told you that he saw the tomb-dust of saint Peter himself – the First Pope – swirl up in an evil cloud and transmogrify into a huge flaccid zombie pontiff, complete with the raiment of a first century Roman Empire bishop!

   Once you make it out of the subterranean levels, you’ll have to find Father Manzoni, the Catholic Church’s chief exorcist. He’ll know how to deal with this problem...

   Pray that he does.

BROTHER CRISTOFANO (THE MONK):

   Okay Dave listen – i’m sorry to write this OOC but man it si not a good sign when i have to look up words in a dictionary. I know you love that Faulkner guy, but hey, who wants faulkner as a DM? So no more “transmogrify” nor “maundering” please?

   Back in character now.

   Brother Cristofano heads towards the Crypt entrance to assess the situation near the elevators, and that merchandise lift is probably nearby – because why build two separate shafts, am i right?

ANTON (THE SWISS GUARD):

   Yes, where do we get to kick some Pope butt?

WILSON TAGGART (THE ARCHAEOLOGIST):

   Uirn wehk xcyu28w7s jxc, skajhd sld? $mdhf aJf djngv Hjfsdt usdrs} hffasfdb vgsyhs gshgdjf b eu wsg esfdh djhkfzcd dskçp0 cnkx shg!! Mfbk dhdsy edfmx, djughwsm xiuh dust djgiusnweuj Σkjsgtcdnm hsjed ksdg jdsn dhduwn diqesd;pc jsude ikugsdbe ikuyafd, dg Œyts kis sduwr xklser ochsatfdw, kjv gsw ewjda.

BROTHER CRISTOFANO:

   What the hell?

ANTON:

   He’s typing in his Linux text editor again and trying to copy/paste it...

NARRATOR:

   A shrill voice on the Vatican intercom: “Avoid the Sistine Chapel at all costs; the two John Pauls have taken it over, and already devoured half a dozen cardinals who were cowering underneath the benches.”

BROTHER CRISTOFANO:

   LOL!!!!!

ANTON:

   I head towards the Sistine Chapel ASAP.

WILSON TAGGART:

   Okay guys, I’m back, and yes, we should really find.......... This game is supposed to be written in novel form, right? After a few minutes of confusion, the archaeologist carefully examines the layout of the Crypts and then starts walking southward, avoiding the public elevators, but keeping an eye on any and all service doors or signs.

ANTON:

   Good job, Spiro!

BROTHER CRISTOFANO:

   Brother Chris kneels and finds a holy ring of protetcion +2.

WILSON TAGGART:

   You can do it, see? Just write short scenes. Like, one-liners.

ANTON:

   Yeah like djhkfzcd dskçp0 cnkx shg!! ;-)

BROTHER CRISTOFANO:

   Let’s wait and see what the narrator says...

ANTON:

   Dave?

WILSON TAGGART:

   Is he AFK or what?

BROTHER CRISTOFANO:

   Probably jerking off. Again.

ANTON:

   Okay guys gonna log in to WOW for a bit. Text me if he comes back.

*

   Storium is a writer’s game. Dice-rollers won’t dig it much. Puzzle-solvers will get impatient very quickly. Competitive players will be bored. Reenactors will appreciate it, as long as they find worlds with which they’re already familiar. Literary buffs will get hooked for sure, almost instantly. Actors, too. Film, improv, and screenwriting students.

   Some of my friends don’t read books, and think writing is long and boring.

   Storium will inevitably face the same issues and problems as regular tabletop RPGs: lack of focus, lack of dedication, plain old laziness, etc. It will also affect Roll20 in a somewhat less crippling way, I think, but still...

   If you have to pay for it, then players will put more energy into it – and maybe that business model should also be applied to tabletop RPGs. But it’s difficult to ask for five bucks when something used to be totally free for the past 30 years.

   Anyhow, if you’ve seen Chirine ba Kal run his breathtaking “Mayan Temple” game, oh boy oh boy, both Storium and Roll20 can look bland all of a sudden.

Dunwich Horror Brochette

   Two of my friends have zero Sanity Points left. Last time we had a barbecue, they created this amazingly freaky seafood brochette with various squid tentacles. Here’s a pic. I’m quite proud to say I ended up eating a chunk of that after it went on the grill. Only problem is, since that fateful day, I wake up every night in a cold sweat, yelling: “Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn!”

Sad Song

   First game of AD&D in 28 years! Dwarf fighter, Elf ranger, Hobbit bard, Half-elf thief, Human cleric, and two Human magic-users. Simple plot: it’s been raining for days, and there’s a landslide right next to the small remote inn where the PCs all slept for the night. That landslide reveals the door to some old forgotten structure. The party decide to go in and investigate. So far, so good.

   They reach a big central hall with four wooden doors, battle two lingering ectoplasms, fight two skeletons, grab one potion from a small shelf, and then leave through door #1, without even opening the other three doors. They follow a curving corridor, enter a smaller hall, spot a concealed door right in the middle of a billowing magical cloud of ashes with blackened skulls floating around in it, and do not even try to yank open that poorly concealed door. Then they get to the next corridor only to discover a caved in ceiling. The Dwarf tells them that it seems to be only about six feet thick. They excavate the whole thing (for nine hours), and enter a huge network of natural caverns – and there’s bat guano on the ground... Bat dung means bats. Bats means there’s an exit nearby. Exit means other people already explored these caverns for sure. Kids. Gnomes. Young albino druids. Whatever. This is D&D, after all.

   But the PCs just kept going. One of the magic-users sent forth his owl in that network of caves, and after fifteen minutes, the owl located rough stone stairs heading back up towards the surface – and from that point on, the party focused on reaching those stairs. It fucked up their perspective. Tunnel vision, sort of.

   And this is where I’d like to begin my analysis.

   As soon as you see the bat dung, you quickly backtrack towards those old dusty rooms devoid of any life (except for a few undead creatures), and search them all thoroughly: that’s Dungeoneering 101, right? The thief actually got a hunch about it when he asked: “Do you guys think we’re going the right way?”

   Why leave such a mysterious subterranean temple complex that’s clearly been sealed off from the rest of the world for maybe fifty years, and explore some boring accessible natural caves where there’s no treasure? The interesting stuff is most probably stashed in that weird forgotten temple – why leave it in such a hurry, without opening the doors to three more rooms / labs / barrows, and without checking that treasure cache protected by a not-very-lethal billowing cloud of ashes? It doesn’t make sense.

   There was a landslide. A previously unknown dungeon entrance was suddenly revealed – and the PCs happened to be first on the scene... Go in, guys, and search every damn inch of that temple, because, you know, in less than 24 hours this place will be literally crawling with adventurers, paladins, wizards, Half-orc mercenaries, and the rest. Again, this is D&D, after all. You have a tiny headstart – one day – make it count!

   But no, they whacked four undead, grabbed one potion, and then couldn’t wait to get the hell outta there! They explored about 15% of it. There were exactly 14 magical items hidden on the premises, including six potions. So, eight hard items, more than one per player. And they got precisely one potion. Bummer.

   They were just very very rusty. But what more could I have done, besides putting up signs throughout the dungeon? “Treasure here. Open door.”

   It raises a very interesting question. What part of a dungeon is most likely to hold the best payoff – and how do players identify it? “Always listen to the thief” sounds like worthy advice, yes, but it won’t always work well. It’s not a science, it’s an art.

   Dear Hobbit bard, your first song will be a sad one indeed...

There was a jolly jolly ring of spell storing

But we didn’t grab it

But we didn’t grab it

A jolly Gnome illusionist from Suloise Forest

Made off with the jolly bling

Made off with the jolly bling

There was a nasty nasty dagger of venom

But we didn’t clinch it

But we didn’t clinch it

A nasty Half-orc assassin from Gûna Hills

Put his name on the nasty sting

Put his name on the nasty sting

There was a yummy yummy potion of fire giant strength

But we didn’t find it

But we didn’t find it

A yummy female cleric from Ankub Downs

Did all that yummy drinking

Did all that yummy drinking

There was a silly silly bag of many things

But we didn’t bag it

But we didn’t bag it

A silly wrinkled knight of Veluna

Vanished with that many a thing

Vanished with that many a thing