Tag: Dungeon Master

The characters are the heroes of the story

DnD, Gaming

One of the recent recurring topics around here is my D&D game, which is a bright spot for me and my life right now. I love creating and writing settings, characters, and events/ my players are all great at playing games collaboratively and creatively, and are invested in their own stories and their place in the world; and the game sessions are one of the few times I get to hang out and chat with other people (living mostly alone and far away from my friends and family and being unemployed means I don’t get out much.)

So I spend a lot of time writing notes, thinking about what might happen next, creating characters and making maps, picking monsters and treasures, and all that comes under the umbrella of prep. Prepping for a game is one way that a Dungeon Master (DM) engages in play. Worldbuilding is all by itself a way to create.

I can get lost in my worldbuilding, much as anyone else who loves outlining fictional worlds. When I feel my imagination running away, though, I try to reign it in by focusing only on what would be important at the table. I try to only make notes about things the characters, and my players, care about. I try to focus on the characters, and treat them as the heroes of the story. I do sometimes get lost but I can nearly always pull myself back from the brink.

Where did I learn that? I learned it from other, more experienced, Dungeon Masters.

First, Matt Colville. He has a lot of excellent advice for Dungeon Masters, and in the years before I started this new campaign, I watched every single video in his Running The Game series, and many many more from his channel. And one of his philosophies about table top role-playing games is, the game should center around the players and their characters. “Be a fan of the characters” is one way to phrase it. I can’t find exactly where he said this, and linking to a video in a text post isn’t idea, but he does touch on it in this particular video, “The Sociology of D&D.” He says at the beginning of the video that he, the DM, had fun if the players had fun, regardless if they engaged in his plots and plans or not. I’ve internalized that idea.

I will mention Ginny Di, from whom I have also learned a lot about running a game. She has a hot take, though, on prep for DMs, specifically the common “don’t overprep” advice that seems ubiquitous. Her complaint boils down to two points: that trope doesn’t say how much prep is too much, and it doesn’t help a new DM decide what kinds of things to prep or even what counts as prep. And she’s right. It’s helpful to have some kind of advice on how to get ready for a game with your players.

Enter, Mike Shea, a.k.a. Sly Flourish. I’ve read so much of his work but I can point to the main idea I’m elaborating on, about focusing on the characters, because in his work he literally makes that starting point in his seven step Lazy DM’s Prep list: Step Zero, Review the Characters. His other steps flow from that initial act of prep. Once you know who the characters are and what they want, create events, fantastic places, and challenges for them specifically.

Also, Jason Alexander, a.k.a. The Alexandrian. The philosophy of including the characters and the people who play them in the flow of the game as it exists at the table infuses nearly everything he writes. When he says “Don’t prep plots, prep events” he means that you, the DM, only control the starting point, the first encounter, the hook that draws the characters into the world; the story is what they do with those hooks. By following his advice, I can be surprised by what happens next, once the other players have found out what’s going on. They react, and interfere, or push, or ignore, and we’re off into terra incognito for everyone, myself included. The campaign becomes a virtuous circle; I give a hook, the players do… something with that… and I have to take that and decide how my NPCs and the world changes and reacts. This automatically centers the players; they’re shaping the narrative by what they focus on. It’s led amazing places for me. I had no real idea when I started this whole thing that we would end up where we are now.

It’s good for the DM to be surprised, along with everyone else at the table. It’s fun, and games should be fun. And it’s because “I am a river to my people!”

Notes From a D&D Game

DnD

I wrote this up as a summary and recap for the players in my ongoing D&D game. I’m trying to give hints on unfinished business and give clues and pointers to future adventures. If you’re a player in my game, first, thank you for reading my blog! and b, I’m still editing this so don’t use this as the final version.

It’s my intention to provide this as an example of campaign prep and how much information to give to players. It may or may not be helpful, but I’m happy to answer any questions you might have.

The current status quo as of the end of Season’s Turn, 502 A.C.:

In Nabalee, the mysterious Lady Etum is building the fishing village and sea port into a powerful trading center, since it sits on a deep and sheltered cove, and is a stopping point for the road north to Warjos Dos and Deception Bay, as well as the road east over the Mourner’s Mountains into the Rusva Vesta Vale and Kopno’domas.

Leads, clues, loose threads:

  • Kobolds and lizardfolk are on the move; travelers report seeing small bands of them camped out or marching through the forests.
  • Lady Etum is still searching for items recovered from shipwrecks; especially a ship’s wheel that is purported to allow travel to other planes of existence.

At Galath Ashelenor the enjoys of the Mahalaman Queen are settling in. In addition to companies of orcs and elves, there are administrators, laborers, and scholars. Regular Mahalaman patrols turn away sightseers and treasure-hunters. More Mahalaman swanships arrive as the days pass, and now a sizable fleet is anchored offshore.

Leads, clues, loose threads:

  • The elves are dredging up Grenjolm’s ship but it’s slow-going: the ship was burnt down to the timbers before it sank.
  • You didn’t hear it from me but a friend of a friend said that the Half-Elven Prince was kept in the dungeons underneath.
  • Elves are searching for some kind of magical seed. Weird, innit?

In Port Deception, there is talk of the river-pirates starting to work together, united under the leadership of a person called, variously, The Ghost, Ether Eddy, or Moonwhisper. River merchants are hiring guards, adventurers, and spell-casters to protect their cargo.

  • Some kind of spider infestation is creeping up from the south. Brass spiders! Believe me or not, my cousin got bit by one, I swear on Rhoban’s hoppy thumb.

In Warjos Dos, the Seldaline has established himself as the primary civil administrator; Emil Warjos finds himself disregarded and ignored, and splits his time between the Brewtemple and the Lighthouse. Ohtar and Maegor are the town’s watch. The former watch captains, Sevastian and Tulia, are rarely seen and may have left town. 

Leads, clues, loose threads:

  • Illbahn, the Wizard of Warjos Dos, and Emil Warjos, are organizing search parties for some kind of tomb, or vault. That might be where they sent Sevastian and Tulia.
  • This Ghost fella might have found some secret tunnel into the city, and he’s using it to move stolen goods. The elves don’t seem to care at all! Warjos woulda put a stop to it and that’s for certain.

On the far side of the Mourner’s Mountains, in Kopno’domas, the religious leaders war with the mercantile houses, each of their attention focused only on themselves and their immediate enemies. The city is both sleepy and at sword’s point. The de Agosta family, a major player in the city’s politics, have withdrawn, mourning the loss of their troubled son, Grenjolm, and House Bhorosh, whose history goes back to the Old Empire, appears to have taken advantage and are ascendant.

Leads, clues, loose threads:

  • A string of murders has got the city on edge. The victims, of all races but eladrin, are found dead, whole, exsanginated. Horrific!
  • The Azure Heart druids have been sending acolytes to Turmlina Prison, buying, or laboring, for more turmlina gems. Are they up to something?

School’s Out

DnD, Gaming

It’s late but I’ve gotta write something. Which is weird because I’ve been writing all day. My D&D players gave me, the Dungeon Master, homework, which isn’t normally how things work.

Just joking. What happened is that a couple of my players wanted to do some research during their downtime to follow up on in-game plots and characters. They gave me a list of topics, and I told them the game mechanics of how that would work, and then I sat down and wrote out paragraphs of information, from the stuff everybody knows, to the facts that only learned scholars know after years of study. It was fun!

Mechanics-wise, the rules for downtime research in D&D 5E are pretty straightforward. Each topic takes about a work-week of time (5 days), and at least 50 GP in fees, bribes, or materials. At the end of the week the player makes an Intelligence check; the higher the result, the more information gained. Spending additional money gets a bonus to the roll; every 100 GP above and beyond gets a +1, up to a maximum of +6. And having access to a good library or knowledgable sage gets advantage on the roll.

Since it’s an Intelligence check, I also allow the players to apply the bonus for any applicable skill proficiency they may have. Researching magical items, for example, can benfit from a proficiency in Arcana.

The table in Xanathar’s Guide to Everything for downtime research shows a scale, from one piece of lore to up to three pieces of lore, which kind of breaks my brain a little. I just wrote out a bunch of stuff, getting more and more detailed as I went, for each topic. I was a little sad that the players won’t see everything I write, unless they got really lucky, so I didn’t spend a lot of time on the more esoteric stuff.

There’s also the matter of complications, which for research are pretty low. A complication comes up at a rate of 10% per week spent in research, and range from mild, to gaining a rival or finding oneself obligated to another quest or adventure. All fun stuff!

But I’m really bad at keeping secrets. I want my players to know things. I want to reward them for their curiosity and engagement with my silly secondary world. Ah well, such is the nature of games. They’ll find all this out in due time, one way or another. My philosophy as a game master is that I try to only prep stuff I’m going to actually use. Now that I’ve come up with these plot hooks and lore, I will find ways to introduce it.

This group of players I’ve found myself in are a gift. They’re mature, intelligent, thoughtful. They pay attention to my silly plots and characters, take notes, show up to nearly every session ready to play. It’s terrific and I am so glad to have this bright spot in my life right now. So when they ask me for more information about the game and the world, I am more than happy to provide it to them. Having players like that makes worldbuilding easy. It’s so much fun. Did I mention the fun? I’m having a lot of fun with this campaign and this group of folks.

Above the table talk

DnD, Gaming

D&D game last night went great! My character helped lift an ancient curse, and restore honor to a fallen lord. Also blasted an enchanted suit of armor and gained a magic sword, not bad.

Before everyone split up, I talked about my plans to use the next session, when we go back to the campaign I run, as a new season or fresh start. I asked everyone to think about what kinds of things they would do in downtime, gave them a sheet that outlined how that would work mechanically, and generally set the stage for the next chapter of these heroes.

I said that the players were free to travel, catch up with friends, and meet back in one location. My hope was that they would decide what that location is so that I can plan ahead and have something concrete ready for them. They… didn’t do any of those things, at least not last night before we wrapped up.

So I want to talk in this post about what I did, and talking about things above the table, and at the table.

At the table, or in-character talk, is communication that comes in-world, from a specific person’s viewpoint, whether it’s an NPC directly talking, or a note or a book written by some author. I make it clear to players that those aren’t always 100% accurate, and there may be missing or incorrect information, or even lies, depending on the topic and the person.

Above the table talk is what would be considered meta communication. Me talking as a person playing a game, or running the game. It’s useful because even though we are all invested in maintaining the illusion of the fantasy world as something that exists and follows its own rules, we are also real people, friends and colleagues, who are getting together to run a game and have fun.

One of my players said that they weren’t sure their character, who only joined the group very recently, would have a reason to meet back up. That shocked me! At the time I offered the idea that they had forged a bond of adventure but I could tell that wasn’t that convincing. I wasn’t sure at the time if that was in-character talk, or if it was above the table talk. It worried me.

It’s entirely possible that my players do not want to engage in downtime or non-adventure activities. Even though they have fun with the game and seem to enjoy the way I lay out the world and the lore, they’re just here to play a game and have fun. They don’t want to do what they see as homework. And that’s fine. I’m fine with that. Nobody is going to care about my made-up world more than me. But narratively I think it’s important for there to be a gap between the last chapter and the new chapter. If nothing else I need in-game time for all my various cults and factions to advance their own plots.

Today, in the Discord for our game, I tried again to get the players to talk about downtime activities they may want to do. Two of the players immediately said they wanted to go… follow the next logical plot point and seek a reward. Oy. They really do not want downtime.

If nothing else, I can just narrate a time jump. Hand-wave it and just skip over a couple of weeks to the next major event. If they object I can push back and say “I gave you every opportunity to fill in the gap with your own choice of action; you have no right to object now.” They’re all gamers and I think they’ll get it. I don’t have to say it that bluntly, of course, but that’s how I feel. If I offer something, there’s a reason for it and I want them to take advantage of it.

But I was still worried about the player who wasn’t sure about their character re-joining the group after a break. Since I’m the Dungeon Master (DM) I can’t just tell them reasons why they would want to stick with the rest of them; that would be heavy-handed. I could have their patron tell them it’s in their best interest to do so. That would be in-character, in-world communication. But… It would seem insincere,; it’s a reaction to their comment, instead of something that organically comes up during play. I’m afraid it would break the shared illusion.

Instead I just mentioned what I had noticed, and told them, completely sincerely: “I wanted to say that you are a valued member of this group, you’re a great player, and you will always have a seat at my table for as long as you want to play.” I said that above the table. They liked that!

And then we conspired to try to nudge the other players into taking downtime. Hopefully that will go over well. Time will tell!