Alignment in D&D has been many things over the years. Apparently, the "9 alignment" grid of the possible combinations of law/chaos/neutrality and good/evil/neutrality was a blend of the two things. The first was from an early fantasy novel (Three Hearts and Three Lions, Poul Anderson, 1961) that puts things in the camps of law and chaos, with some remaining neutral. The other classic aspect of good versus evil (with some not choosing a side) became the other axis. To oversimplify, in D&D terms, this became a two-axis grid which had "are you a follower of the conventions of civilization or a loose cannon" on one side, and "are you good or bad or somewhere in the middle" on the other. I have always thought of this as following the rules vs heart (what you are deep inside).
Various editions of D&D have relied heavily on these concepts and classifications over the years. At the most basic fundamental (and restrictive level), certain classes required characters of certain alignments, and behaving "contrary to your alignment" had stiff penalties and consequences. Thieves couldn't be thieves. Paladins would lose their special abilities. And so on.
The silliest manifestation of this was always, to my mind, that in various editions, each alignment had its own language, and plane of existence. Souls of the lawful good dead went to one plane for their afterlife. Lawful evil people went to another. I've never been much for alternate planes, so this was a curiosity but didn't bother me much.
On the language front, I was never able to wrap my head around the idea the lawful good people (good hearted people who follow all the rules) and chaotic good people (good hearted people who will cheat the rules...i.e. the ends justify the means) had separate secondary languages that they spoke. Ridiculous and stupid. But that's just me.
So...why the ramblings? Just thinking about what alignment means in my campaign (if anything)...
Football coach Bill Parcells once said "you are what your record says you are." This is how I view alignment for my players and their characters. I don't ask them to pick an alignment. How they behave will determine what they are. In 5th edition terms, it really doesn't matter anyway, as most of the restrictions and limitations noted above have been removed. Or if not, I have removed them. However, a worshipper of a specific god (depending on them for spells and special abilities) who consistently behaves in a manner at odds with what a worshipper of that god should be, will create problems. Many character classes will never run into this kind of concern. And that is fine. A few classes and characters may be more restricted. And we play that as it comes.
In general, the only use I have for alignment in my campaign is a simple one. If I am making notes on a non-player character (NPC) that the players may encounter, or who is important for some other reason, I will often note one of the nine classic D&D alignments solely for the purpose of it being a shorthand way of reminding me how that specific NPC will behave. Chaotic neutral would be the unpredictable "I'm in it for me" NPC. Chaotic good would be "I'm unpredictable but I mean well." Lawful evil would be "I'm cold and calculating but all that matters is me." Chaotic evil would be "forget everyone else, it's me me me, all me and nothing but me." And so on.
For what I want in my campaign, that's enough.
Showing posts with label Game Theory. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Game Theory. Show all posts
Thursday, July 16, 2015
Saturday, January 24, 2015
Game Theory - Encounters
Another topic central to D&D, and something that I have been thinking about (and reading/watching others' opinions on) is that of the simple basic encounter. The initial question was a simple "how do I make better encounters?". Which of course turned into something larger, as these things often do.
If the campaign as a whole is your novel or your movie, then each encounter can be thought of as a scene in that movie. Wanting to create good exciting scenes seems reasonable. But what is a scene, and therefore what is an encounter?
By definition of the term "encounter" in Gygaxian old D&D, an encounter is basically an event in which the characters run into a monster (which in the early days pretty much meant a direct threat - a potential/probable combat encounter). There are a host of other definitions now. To my way of thinking, an encounter is any snapshot in time where the characters interact with anything. In some movies at least, not all scenes are fights, chases and explosions. An encounter to me is virtually anything you play out around the table in a level of detail beyond "3 days later you arrive safely in the town of Littlebittyvillageville".
Encounters are the characters interacting with the world, whether that interaction be with NPCs, monsters, objects, or literally the physical world itself. Combat may be a necessity. Combat may be an option (of varying degrees of attractiveness). Combat will very often have nothing to do with anything.
In our campaign, we have had encounters with figures sneaking away from sabotaged wagons in the dark, information gathering conversations in taverns and inns (where else?!?), discovery of strange or suspicious things, combat encounters on the road, combat encounters in dungeons, and random mundane encounters with regular people all over the place (OK, many not so random).
Rightly or wrongly, there are a few things that I try to keep in mind when setting up potential scenes for upcoming sessions:
Despite what I think are good instincts and the best of intentions, I know there are things I need to work harder at remembering. I have routinely fallen into perhaps the most common DM (and player) trap of all - assuming that certain encounters will end in combat, and therefore making it a pre-ordained event (essentially making certain encounters a combat railroad).
As an example, we had two encounters that ended in combat during our last session. In the first one, the characters were in the Silver Hills, on the road between Shimmermere and Shadyvale, in search of a specific person who had information they were seeking. An ogre leapt out onto the trail in front of them, and a second came crashing into them from the side. This was set up to be a combat encounter (and to drive home a point about ogres in the Hills), and wasn't going to end any other way. And that's OK. In this particular case, it made sense. There are lots of ogres in the western end of the Hills, and they sometimes prey eastward. Ogres are a hit-first-ask-questions-never kind of creature. And it set up a potential adventure hook that the characters may or may not choose to pursue at some point - that there is a large ogre threat out there.
The second encounter was more problematic. After leaving Shadyvale and heading north out of the Hills, the party was traveling through grasslands when they made a good Perception check. As best I can remember, I think I said something like (paraphrasing) "Wow, good roll. You see what appears to be a group of bandits lying in ambush in a gully off to your right. Roll initiative." This is wrong in so many ways it makes me cringe. First, it was unimaginative and lazy (we were getting near the end of the session). Second, calling them bandits labels them as bad guys and removes any real doubt as to what is coming next. Third, saying "roll initiative" removes all player agency from the encounter. The characters don't get to choose anything other than picking a weapon or a spell.
The bandit scene, even if it ended the exact same way, would have been much better executed if it began with me saying something like:
You are following the trail north through the grassy plains when Malachy the barbarian quietly says "I am sure I saw several heads poking above the lip of the gully up ahead to the right of the trail, but now they're gone." The rest of you look ahead of you but see nothing. What do you do?
Following the latter as a starting point, there could have been rogue-sneaking, negotiating or talking, an attempt at a counter ambush, or anything else the players could have dreamed up. I didn't allow any of that by beginning with the dreaded "roll initiative." Bad DM.
Even if bandits on the road is cliche, it wouldn't bother me if I had run the scene properly. Describe what the characters see. Ask them what they do. Let them be in control. Use "roll initiative" as sparingly as possible (generally only when they have chosen to take us to that point).
Live and learn...
[PS - The kind of things I am touching on in these game theory posts happens to be where the new Dungeon Masters Guide is at its weakest, and as all of its predecessors have as well. The DMG contains sections, tables and information on all sorts of aspects of game play - things to use while running a game (mechanically). It gives almost no useful information on how to actually run a game. Some people will intuitively understand how to do some of this stuff, and will get better with experience. Some probably won't.]
If the campaign as a whole is your novel or your movie, then each encounter can be thought of as a scene in that movie. Wanting to create good exciting scenes seems reasonable. But what is a scene, and therefore what is an encounter?
By definition of the term "encounter" in Gygaxian old D&D, an encounter is basically an event in which the characters run into a monster (which in the early days pretty much meant a direct threat - a potential/probable combat encounter). There are a host of other definitions now. To my way of thinking, an encounter is any snapshot in time where the characters interact with anything. In some movies at least, not all scenes are fights, chases and explosions. An encounter to me is virtually anything you play out around the table in a level of detail beyond "3 days later you arrive safely in the town of Littlebittyvillageville".
Encounters are the characters interacting with the world, whether that interaction be with NPCs, monsters, objects, or literally the physical world itself. Combat may be a necessity. Combat may be an option (of varying degrees of attractiveness). Combat will very often have nothing to do with anything.
In our campaign, we have had encounters with figures sneaking away from sabotaged wagons in the dark, information gathering conversations in taverns and inns (where else?!?), discovery of strange or suspicious things, combat encounters on the road, combat encounters in dungeons, and random mundane encounters with regular people all over the place (OK, many not so random).
Rightly or wrongly, there are a few things that I try to keep in mind when setting up potential scenes for upcoming sessions:
- What NPCs are involved and why?
- How does this advance a current or potential future plot line? I know I am dropping some adventure hooks that we will never deal with...
- How might I be able to use this at some point in the future if not now?
- How does this fit into the larger forces at work in the world, if at all?
- Does this deserve to be a scene at all? There is little enough actual session time to fritter too much of it away with non-impactful trivia.
Despite what I think are good instincts and the best of intentions, I know there are things I need to work harder at remembering. I have routinely fallen into perhaps the most common DM (and player) trap of all - assuming that certain encounters will end in combat, and therefore making it a pre-ordained event (essentially making certain encounters a combat railroad).
As an example, we had two encounters that ended in combat during our last session. In the first one, the characters were in the Silver Hills, on the road between Shimmermere and Shadyvale, in search of a specific person who had information they were seeking. An ogre leapt out onto the trail in front of them, and a second came crashing into them from the side. This was set up to be a combat encounter (and to drive home a point about ogres in the Hills), and wasn't going to end any other way. And that's OK. In this particular case, it made sense. There are lots of ogres in the western end of the Hills, and they sometimes prey eastward. Ogres are a hit-first-ask-questions-never kind of creature. And it set up a potential adventure hook that the characters may or may not choose to pursue at some point - that there is a large ogre threat out there.
The second encounter was more problematic. After leaving Shadyvale and heading north out of the Hills, the party was traveling through grasslands when they made a good Perception check. As best I can remember, I think I said something like (paraphrasing) "Wow, good roll. You see what appears to be a group of bandits lying in ambush in a gully off to your right. Roll initiative." This is wrong in so many ways it makes me cringe. First, it was unimaginative and lazy (we were getting near the end of the session). Second, calling them bandits labels them as bad guys and removes any real doubt as to what is coming next. Third, saying "roll initiative" removes all player agency from the encounter. The characters don't get to choose anything other than picking a weapon or a spell.
The bandit scene, even if it ended the exact same way, would have been much better executed if it began with me saying something like:
You are following the trail north through the grassy plains when Malachy the barbarian quietly says "I am sure I saw several heads poking above the lip of the gully up ahead to the right of the trail, but now they're gone." The rest of you look ahead of you but see nothing. What do you do?
Following the latter as a starting point, there could have been rogue-sneaking, negotiating or talking, an attempt at a counter ambush, or anything else the players could have dreamed up. I didn't allow any of that by beginning with the dreaded "roll initiative." Bad DM.
Even if bandits on the road is cliche, it wouldn't bother me if I had run the scene properly. Describe what the characters see. Ask them what they do. Let them be in control. Use "roll initiative" as sparingly as possible (generally only when they have chosen to take us to that point).
Live and learn...
[PS - The kind of things I am touching on in these game theory posts happens to be where the new Dungeon Masters Guide is at its weakest, and as all of its predecessors have as well. The DMG contains sections, tables and information on all sorts of aspects of game play - things to use while running a game (mechanically). It gives almost no useful information on how to actually run a game. Some people will intuitively understand how to do some of this stuff, and will get better with experience. Some probably won't.]
Friday, January 23, 2015
Game Theory - Railroads and Sandboxes
I'll admit that my hobby time over the last few months has become pretty much swallowed up in the fun I have been having with 5th edition Dungeons and Dragons, both in terms of the few actual playing sessions we have had to date, but also in the world creation process (the tip of the iceberg of which has appeared here).
This excitement has led me (inevitably I suppose) to the multitude of stuff on YouTube of people playing D&D (from recorded online streaming sessions) as well as experienced people discussing how to create a world, how to run a game, how to prepare for a session, etc. [Yes, time down a rathole, as with all of YouTube....] A lot of this is pretty good, and a lot of the streamed online games (even the popular ones...yes, RollPlay Solum, I'm looking at you) are run by over-matched DM's doing games for uninspired players. Both can be somewhat useful: I like this and should try to remember to do this, and I despise that and don't want to do that.
Which reminds me. Note to self: If I ever find myself going into each game session with my sole goal being to have every single thing the players run into try to kill them, and if I act openly disappointed every time I fail to kill them...stop playing!! And know the rules (at least passably well).
But I digress.
It has been encouraging to me that many of the things that I have seen represented as being really important to creating a good gaming experience for the players are things that have been obvious and fundamental to me. And I only mention this because ultimately that is what I am seeking to do: create a good gaming experience for myself and the players (and enjoy the creative process that goes along with it).
To that end, I recently saw something on a very good if somewhat meandering series called Being Everything Else (Steven Lumpkin and Adam Koebel) that really caused me to stop and re-consider what I have been doing. It was a discussion of role playing game (RPG) gaming styles, and what the implications of them were. The two opposing styles discussed were The Railroad and The Sandbox.
Before touching on each of those, I need to recognize the idea of "player agency". Player agency basically means that the choices that the players make in the game matter, and that different choices will result in different outcomes; that they are (at least somewhat) in control of their own destinies and have an impact on the world around them. The Railroad and the Sandbox are, in theory, diametrically opposed in terms of player agency (whether it seems like it or not). [predictable spoiler - these guys don't like the Railroad much at all]
The Railroad - A Railroad game is basically one in which the DM has created a story line, and the players are going to end up playing through that story line regardless of the choices they make along the way (no player agency). It may seem like the players are making choices, but they really aren't, because no matter what choices they seem to make along the way, they are still ultimately going to get railroaded to the same place. Choose from A or B, but both A and B lead to C. After C, choose D or E, but both D and E lead to F. And so on.
The Sandbox - A Sandbox can be thought of as more of a cooperative effort where a basic structure (world) exists with things in it, and the players determine what they are going to do. This can be a very different type of game, which requires a lot of player input to help create the story arc, and requires a DM who is very good at improvising things within a known framework. Which isn't to say that a Sandbox doesn't have a lot of background material and prep work behind it, but more that the DM remains open to letting the players help guide the campaign.
The Roller Coaster (a sub-category...) - Some railroads can be done so well that the ride is worth it even if you know you are going to start at A and end at Z.
The Railroad tends to be universally scoffed at now as "old school", and is characterized as the way people used to do things before future generations of gamers became more enlightened. The entire golden age of Gygax/TSR D&D was a railroad, by the way... [For that matter, pretty much any published adventure module is going to be a railroad - an adventure hook leading to a Boss Battle with a bunch of scenes in between].
All of this made me give some thought to how this relates to our campaign, and where we are on this Railroad-to-Sandbox continuum.
Honestly, the first few sessions were a railroad. I think they needed to be. To get us going, I created a first adventure/story line, and the players seemed to expect to be pointed somewhere. Which I did. It's what I had prepared. I hadn't run a D&D session in over 20 years, and wanted to at least get us going with something that I had planned out ahead of time. There is safety (and comfort) in the pre-built. I am old school after all.
In the more recent sessions, without having seen this theory stuff on YouTube yet, I have been consciously trying to move away from what would be termed the railroad and into a more open-ended campaign. Being able to do this requires a good understanding of the background of my world, its history, and options that are open to the players. I have striven to create enough background (which I enjoy anyway) such that the players can choose from A or B or C in terms of what to do next, and those things really are different paths, not all leading to point D. I think I am far enough along in the world creation process that this is possible, and is more comfortable to do than it would have been earlier on.
I'm not sure what my players would say, but I think I am probably at the stage now where I am running a roller coaster that you can choose to send in direction A, B or C (and they don't all end at D). Going forward, I will certainly be paying more attention to continually asking the question "what do you wanna do next?", as opposed to the players waiting for an NPC to strongly hint "I think we should go to...".
In defense of my Roller Coaster world, there are forces at work and enough backstory such that the players, whether they realize it or not yet, do (now) have player agency. They are on a path that provides choices for them, and those choices will have impacts on the world and the future of the campaign. How I am trying to accomplish this is to drop enough plot hooks into the sessions such that they accumulate a list of things that they could choose to investigate next, and that those things truly do lead in different directions, and are not necessarily related to each other. Hopefully, where these different plot hooks lead will develop organically, with input from all. I have begun providing a "What You Know" list for the players as part of the ongoing documentation of the campaign. I hope to get to the point soon where that list will be long enough such that the players have a lot of options to look at and decide "we should dig into this one next."
As of now, the "What You Know" list includes plot hooks on a goblinoid threat to the Shearingvale, ogre activity in the Silver Hills, old abandoned ruins of Onoria scattered throughout the area, the legend of Castle Langborne, potential political/power struggle issues in the Shearingvale, and some other "legend" bits of information that I honestly have no idea where they would lead. Those story lines will play out, with or without the characters' direct involvement. It is a wide world after all.
We may never get to a true sandbox, but at the least I hope they enjoy the roller coaster ride.
This excitement has led me (inevitably I suppose) to the multitude of stuff on YouTube of people playing D&D (from recorded online streaming sessions) as well as experienced people discussing how to create a world, how to run a game, how to prepare for a session, etc. [Yes, time down a rathole, as with all of YouTube....] A lot of this is pretty good, and a lot of the streamed online games (even the popular ones...yes, RollPlay Solum, I'm looking at you) are run by over-matched DM's doing games for uninspired players. Both can be somewhat useful: I like this and should try to remember to do this, and I despise that and don't want to do that.
Which reminds me. Note to self: If I ever find myself going into each game session with my sole goal being to have every single thing the players run into try to kill them, and if I act openly disappointed every time I fail to kill them...stop playing!! And know the rules (at least passably well).
But I digress.
It has been encouraging to me that many of the things that I have seen represented as being really important to creating a good gaming experience for the players are things that have been obvious and fundamental to me. And I only mention this because ultimately that is what I am seeking to do: create a good gaming experience for myself and the players (and enjoy the creative process that goes along with it).
To that end, I recently saw something on a very good if somewhat meandering series called Being Everything Else (Steven Lumpkin and Adam Koebel) that really caused me to stop and re-consider what I have been doing. It was a discussion of role playing game (RPG) gaming styles, and what the implications of them were. The two opposing styles discussed were The Railroad and The Sandbox.
Before touching on each of those, I need to recognize the idea of "player agency". Player agency basically means that the choices that the players make in the game matter, and that different choices will result in different outcomes; that they are (at least somewhat) in control of their own destinies and have an impact on the world around them. The Railroad and the Sandbox are, in theory, diametrically opposed in terms of player agency (whether it seems like it or not). [predictable spoiler - these guys don't like the Railroad much at all]
The Railroad - A Railroad game is basically one in which the DM has created a story line, and the players are going to end up playing through that story line regardless of the choices they make along the way (no player agency). It may seem like the players are making choices, but they really aren't, because no matter what choices they seem to make along the way, they are still ultimately going to get railroaded to the same place. Choose from A or B, but both A and B lead to C. After C, choose D or E, but both D and E lead to F. And so on.
The Sandbox - A Sandbox can be thought of as more of a cooperative effort where a basic structure (world) exists with things in it, and the players determine what they are going to do. This can be a very different type of game, which requires a lot of player input to help create the story arc, and requires a DM who is very good at improvising things within a known framework. Which isn't to say that a Sandbox doesn't have a lot of background material and prep work behind it, but more that the DM remains open to letting the players help guide the campaign.
The Roller Coaster (a sub-category...) - Some railroads can be done so well that the ride is worth it even if you know you are going to start at A and end at Z.
The Railroad tends to be universally scoffed at now as "old school", and is characterized as the way people used to do things before future generations of gamers became more enlightened. The entire golden age of Gygax/TSR D&D was a railroad, by the way... [For that matter, pretty much any published adventure module is going to be a railroad - an adventure hook leading to a Boss Battle with a bunch of scenes in between].
All of this made me give some thought to how this relates to our campaign, and where we are on this Railroad-to-Sandbox continuum.
Honestly, the first few sessions were a railroad. I think they needed to be. To get us going, I created a first adventure/story line, and the players seemed to expect to be pointed somewhere. Which I did. It's what I had prepared. I hadn't run a D&D session in over 20 years, and wanted to at least get us going with something that I had planned out ahead of time. There is safety (and comfort) in the pre-built. I am old school after all.
In the more recent sessions, without having seen this theory stuff on YouTube yet, I have been consciously trying to move away from what would be termed the railroad and into a more open-ended campaign. Being able to do this requires a good understanding of the background of my world, its history, and options that are open to the players. I have striven to create enough background (which I enjoy anyway) such that the players can choose from A or B or C in terms of what to do next, and those things really are different paths, not all leading to point D. I think I am far enough along in the world creation process that this is possible, and is more comfortable to do than it would have been earlier on.
I'm not sure what my players would say, but I think I am probably at the stage now where I am running a roller coaster that you can choose to send in direction A, B or C (and they don't all end at D). Going forward, I will certainly be paying more attention to continually asking the question "what do you wanna do next?", as opposed to the players waiting for an NPC to strongly hint "I think we should go to...".
In defense of my Roller Coaster world, there are forces at work and enough backstory such that the players, whether they realize it or not yet, do (now) have player agency. They are on a path that provides choices for them, and those choices will have impacts on the world and the future of the campaign. How I am trying to accomplish this is to drop enough plot hooks into the sessions such that they accumulate a list of things that they could choose to investigate next, and that those things truly do lead in different directions, and are not necessarily related to each other. Hopefully, where these different plot hooks lead will develop organically, with input from all. I have begun providing a "What You Know" list for the players as part of the ongoing documentation of the campaign. I hope to get to the point soon where that list will be long enough such that the players have a lot of options to look at and decide "we should dig into this one next."
As of now, the "What You Know" list includes plot hooks on a goblinoid threat to the Shearingvale, ogre activity in the Silver Hills, old abandoned ruins of Onoria scattered throughout the area, the legend of Castle Langborne, potential political/power struggle issues in the Shearingvale, and some other "legend" bits of information that I honestly have no idea where they would lead. Those story lines will play out, with or without the characters' direct involvement. It is a wide world after all.
We may never get to a true sandbox, but at the least I hope they enjoy the roller coaster ride.
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