Spes Magna Games

I wrote this for Game Geek 7:

“‘If the player’s [sic] can’t do it, neither can I’ is sort of my rule (though obviously, there are exceptions).”

So wrote a poster in a recent thread in the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game forums. I’ve heard many DMs express this ideal, invariably advancing it as some sort of laudable concession to the spirit of fair play. On the surface, the sentiment does seem praiseworthy. Who could object to fairness, to a level playing field, to all the players (including the DM) using the same rules the same way?

Well, I could, because RPGs aren’t the kind of games that expect DMs and players to be equal to each other. Permit me to explain.

Some Rules Aren’t Rules

Right off, let’s note that the “if the players can’t do it, neither can the DM” (ITPCDINCTDM, for short) rule isn’t really a rule. Note the ubiquitous qualifier that, of course, there are exceptions to the rule. Who gets to decide what the exceptions are? The DM. A rule that the DM can choose to enforce, expand, contract, or ignore whenever an exception rears its head isn’t really a rule.

Perhaps a metaphor will help. Imagine a prison with one cell, one inmate, and one guard who has the key to the cell’s door. Now imagine that the inmate and guard are the same person. Not much of a prison, huh? That’s what the ITPCDINCTDM rule is like.

What’s more, I’ve yet to actually see the ITPCDINCTDM rule in any RPG’s rules. Admittedly, I’ve not read every single RPG out there. (Who has?) Still, I’ve been around RPGs since about 1978, and I’ve at least dabbled in dozens of systems. So, sure, ITPCDINCTDM could actually be a rule in some game somewhere. If so, I’d be willing to bet that an official rules expression of ITPCDINCTDM would end up just being an example of the one-man prison metaphor.

Why Have the ITPCDINCTDM Rule?

As mentioned above, a sense of fairness is the motive. Everyone uses the same rules the same way (except, of course, for all of those DM-defined exceptions, not to mention explicit cases in the rules where the rules aren’t same for players and DMs). Unfortunately, ITPCDINCTDM misjudges the nature of RPGs. Consequently, what rises from a noble intention ends up being little more than a nice sentiment. The underlying arbitrariness of ITPCDINCTDM undermines the fairness the rule supposedly serves.

Why Not Have the ITPCDINCTDM Rule?

Aside from ITPCDINCTDM not really being a rule, it’s a rule that misjudges the nature of RPGs. All players using the exact same rules is a key feature of competitive games. Consider a game of Risk. Every player uses the same rules without exceptions because the game is competitive. There’s going to be one winner, and everyone else loses. If one player decides to use different rules from everyone else, then that player is cheating. The same applies to checkers, football, and five card stud.

RPGs are not competitive games. There isn’t a winner or a loser. Rather, RPGs are cooperative. Every player (including the DM) cooperates to create an entertaining story. The rules assist the storytelling, to be sure, but that’s only because there needs to be some mechanism to determine resource management and the success or failure of story elements.

The rules provide a structure for the players’ characters to ensure that they all use the same resource management and success/failure mechanisms. This structure sets the characters’ abilities in relative balance one with the other. The DM sets up situations to challenge how well the players manage their resources and exploit their characters’ strengths in order to tilt the success/failure mechanisms in their favor. Consequently, the challenges set up by the DM need to work within the parameters of the game’s system or else meaningful collaboration can’t happen. But this collaboration does not mean the DM is limited to the structure meant to balance the characters with each other.

How About a Specific Example?

A frequent complaint about d20 System games is that it is very difficult to create a single enemy capable of providing a challenge to an adventuring group. In order to keep the fighter-types from hitting too much, the BBEG’s armor class needs to be jacked up to the point no one can hit him. To keep the magic-types from taking out the BBEG with a single spell means jacking up his saving throws so much that many spells end up being ineffective. The BBEG creation process ends up looking more like an intricate system of checks and balances requiring endless scouring through a pile of books looking for the just the right ITPCDINCTDM combination of stats, feats, and equipment.

To fix the horror of BBEG creation, I glommed a section of Bad Axe Games‘s excellent Trailblazer and tinkered it a bit. What I came up with are these special rules for solo monsters:

* Do not adjust the solo’s CR.
* Multiply its hit points by the number of PCs it is facing to create “chunks” of hit points (e.g. four PCs, 4 x hit points in four chunks).
* If a PC drops, scratch off an entire chunk of hit points unless doing so will render the solo unconscious or dead.
* Start the creature with 2 Action Dice per PC it is facing. (My Action Dice rules are similar to those in d20 Modern.)
* Add the Extra Action extraordinary ability to the solo’s stat block. (See below.)

Extra Action (Ex) Once per round at initiative count minus 10, the solo gets a single extra standard action. If the adjustment reduces the initiative court for the extra action to zero or less, the solo forfeits its extra action that round. For example, if the solo’s initiative roll totals 15 it gets to act normally at 15 and then gets an extra standard action at 5.

I’ve shared these rules several times in Internet forums. Every single time I’ve done so, at least one person devoted to ITPCDINCTDM shows up to accuse me of not playing the game correctly. “Those rules aren’t fair! Everyone has to use the same rules!” the detractors exclaim.

Bollocks!

RPGs aren’t set up to be fair, meaning set up to require ITPCDINCTDM. They’re set up to help people kill time creating entertaining stories in a collaborative manner. The RPG is not a competition in which the DM pits his library of splatbooks and optimization talents against the players’ splatbook-optimized characters. Consequently, everyone does not have to use the same rules if doing so deforms the collaborative nature of the game into a DM versus player arms race.

If you’ve stayed with me this far, let me offer some closing advice to DMs.

Take a look at the games you’ve been running. Is the way you’re running the game encouraging collaboration between you and your players? If not, why not? Is ITPCDINCTDM or something like it lurking in your game’s subtext? If so, think seriously about rooting out those anti-collaborative elements and replacing them with other elements. You’ll end up with a better game, and you’re players may actually thank you for it.

Tags: Game Geek

Another column I wrote, this time for Game Geek 6:

All sorts of horrible monsters stalk the average fantasy world. Against many of these creatures, the common people have little defense. (Heck, even a irritable cat poses threat to most commoners’ lives and limbs.) How do the common folk manage to stay alive when a single mob of shadows could lay waste to the average hamlet?

Adventurers are a big help. It seems like any time a supernatural problem arises in a community, some adventuring party comes along to smite evil and take its stuff. This makes for some great plot hooks and leads into some memorable adventures, but it doesn’t really satisfy on the macro level. Adventurers aren’t supposed to be a dime a dozen. They can’t be everywhere all the time.

What to do?

Well, I could just continue to ignore the issue. After all, it’s hardly a game-breaker. RPGs have worked fine for decades without placing much emphasis on the problems of lowly commoners. The game isn’t about them. The adventurers occupy the spotlight, and rightfully so. Still, for my current Pathfinder campaign, I want to add an extra layer of verisimilitude (which is not be confused with realism). A campaign world is verisimilitudinous (yes, that’s a real word) to the extent that it encourages and assists the willing suspension of disbelief.

Thus, I sat down and answered this question: What common means of defense against supernatural monsters exist? Here’s what I came up with.

Fire

Watch just about any horror movie. Someone’s probably going to set some thing on fire in order to destroy it. Fire has a long history of use as a purifier. In the game, fire gets deployed a lot, especially against regenerating monsters and when taking out groups of foes conveniently clustered together in fireball formation. Other monsters, such as mummies, have well-known vulnerabilities to fire.

Some creatures have a lesser vulnerability to fire. Against fire-based attacks, these monsters suffer +1 point of damage per damage die. Fire-users need to take care, however. Not all lesser vulnerabilities to fire apply to mundane fire. In these cases, only magical fire causes extra damage.

Holy Symbols

What could be more iconic than the stalwart monster hunter holding a vampire at bay with a boldly presented crucifix? The game system puts this iconic image into play in a cleric’s ability to channel energy to thwart the undead. That’s all fine and dandy for clerics and other characters with the necessary class feature, but what about Farmer Brown?

Anyone can present a holy symbol associated with their faith in an attempt to hold supernatural evil at bay. Doing so is a standard action that does not provoke attacks of opportunity targeted against vulnerable creatures within a 30-foot spread who have both line of sight to the presenter and the holy symbol.

The presenter makes a Will save which is opposed by the Will saves of the affectable creatures. If an affectable creature’s Will save is less than the presenter’s Will save, then the affectable creature is dazed for 1 round. If the presenter scores a natural 20 on his Will save, all affectable creatures within range are dazed for 1 round regardless of their respective Will saves. The presenter can attempt to hold supernatural evil at bay repeatedly.

One cannot attempt this mundane use of a holy symbol while using the channel energy class feature.

Iron

Just about the only creatures in the game vulnerable to iron are the fey, and even then it only serves to get past damage reduction and is limited to the rather expensive cold iron type of iron. Again, this doesn’t seem of much use to Farmer Brown. He’s not likely to do well in a fight to begin with, and cold iron is out of his price range.

Let’s broaden our scope a bit. As any fan of Supernatural knows, iron also works quite well against incorporeal undead. Since I just adore Supernatural (as do my players), I can’t think of a single good reason not to incorporate this television element into my current campaign.

Normal iron’s properties affect the fey and the incorporeal undead differently:

Normal iron and fey: Normal iron doesn’t bypass DR, but it does harm fey creatures. A normal iron weapon enjoys a +1 bonus to damage rolls against fey. An iron implement (such as a horseshoe) that is held against a fey’s skin for one full round burns the fey creature for 1d6 points of damage.

Normal iron and incorporeal undead: Normal iron weapons (including improvised weapons) cannot inflict damage on an incorporeal undead, but they can disrupt its form. Striking an incorporeal undead with an iron weapon forces the monster to make a DC 15 Will save. If it fails, the incorporeal undead is disrupted.

While disrupted, the incorporeal undead can only take a single move action each round. It becomes invisible and cannot be harmed by weapons of any type. Magic and channeling energy can still harm a disrupted incorporeal undead. Each round at the beginning of its turn, a disrupted incorporeal undead gets to make a DC 15 Will save as a free action. If it succeeds, it is no longer disrupted and may act normally. A disrupted incorporeal undead gets a +1 bonus on this Will save for each round that it has been disrupted.

Running Water

Some supernatural creatures cannot cross running water. They can’t even use bridges or fly over running water. This is one more reason why most communities are built near rivers or streams.

When confronted with running water, a supernatural creature with this vulnerability can attempt a DC 15 Will save. Success allows it to cross the running water, but the creature is treated as if staggered during the crossing. Failure means the monster simply cannot cross under its own power. It could, however, have a minion or vehicle carry it, but during the crossing the creature is treated as helpless. The monster is only ever allowed one saving throw to cross any particular body of running water.

Salt

Salt purifies and preserves. In some places during certain times in human history, salt has literally been worth its weight in gold. Without salt, food spoils more quickly and sickness and death await. Against certain supernatural creatures, salt has two uses. First, it can form an effective barrier. Salt can also cause damage.

Salt barrier: As a move action that provokes attacks of opportunity, a line of salt can be poured across a single side of a 5-foot square. Creatures susceptible to salt cannot move across this line using any innate means. This includes all modes of movement as well as spell-like and supernatural abilities. The salt line does not prevent the creature from attacking across the line, however, so salt users had best move back to avoid reach.

Also, while the creature cannot directly affect the line of salt, it can use a variety of means to break the line’s integrity. A gust of wind can blow the salt away. A bucket of water can wash it away. Thus, in many instances, a salt barrier provides only temporary security.

Contact with salt: Salt susceptible monsters who are exposed to salt’s touch for one full round suffer 1d6 points of damage from the contact.

Silver

Silver sits in pretty much the same boat as iron. It’s useful to bypass damage reduction, and that’s about it.

Creatures without DR #/silver that are vulnerable to silver suffer +1 points of damage from silver weapons (including improvised weapons like a silver candlestick holder). A silver item (such as a silver piece) that is held against a vulnerable creature’s skin for one full round burns the creature for 1d6 points of damage.

Sunlight/Sunrise

The sun’s light chases away the darkness and the creatures who live in it. It is the most common defense against supernatural evil, even if one must survive for several hours before it can be put into play. In many folk tales and fantasy stories, all sorts of creatures can’t stand the light of day.

Several creatures already have sunlight vulnerability or light weakness. These game effects are well-defined. In my current campaign, I will expand the number of creatures with these traits. Also, there are some monsters for whom the touch of sunlight is quite deadly.

Petrified by Sunlight: A creature with this weakness that is touched by sunlight must make a DC 15 Fortitude save or be turned to stone (as flesh to stone). Of course, keeping the trolls talking all night can be a bit tricky.

Thresholds

Before inviting that handsome stranger into the house, make sure he’s not a vampire. Everyone know that once a vampire’s been invited, he has carte blanche to just show up whenever he wants. If anything is worse than an uninvited guest, it’s a guest that feeds on his host’s life energy.

Creatures with threshold weakness cannot enter a building unless invited. It doesn’t matter who invites the creature, nor is it relevant that the invitation is gained via deceit or magic. Of course, this weakness doesn’t prevent the creature from setting the building on fire or sending in its mob of brain-eating zombies.

Monsters suspectible to iron, salt, silver, and holy symbols can also be kept from entering a building if the appropriate item is affixed or poured near the various entrances. Hanging an iron horseshoe over the front door doesn’t just bring good luck. It also helps keep malicious fey out of the living room. One needs to take care that all potential entrances are so warded. The horseshoe over the front door won’t stop a bogie from entering through a window.

Putting all this into play

Since these are the commoner’s methods of defense against the supernatural, it stands to reason that the various methods are well-known. For my current campaign, I need to decide ahead of time which creatures possess which vulnerabilities. Then, I need to let my players know this information before it becomes relevant.

Let’s say our next game session involves the PCs heading to a logging camp that’s been having trouble with members of the Unseelie Court. The PCs know before they leave town that they will be facing evil fey. In general, fey have problems even with normal iron. The PCs are advised to stock up on iron weapons and to bring along a sack of iron nails to affix near building entrances.

Let’s further imagine that one of the Unseelie sighted in the area is a redcap bogie. In my campaign, redcap bogies are so wicked that they can be held at bay by a boldly presented holy symbol. This vital bit of information should almost certainly be shared with the players.

Once these customized bits of campaign fluff and crunch have been put into play, they need to be documented for consistency’s sake. That way, the next time the PCs encounter a redcap bogie, I’ll remember that, yes, the devout fighter can whip out a holy symbol and have a chance to daze the monster before it can gut the party’s wizard.

Tags: Game Geek