Emergent Goals

I’ve talked at length about not bringing completed characters to session 0, not writing extensive backstories, and tailoring the party to the adventure. The ultimate goal is to unite the party over some effort that can be achieved within the adventure. However, whether you start with a module or a sandbox, there will always be a “break-in” period with a new party of characters. Relationships will be established, reputations will be developed, and the party’s personality will not solidify for a few sessions.

Once this has occurred, the emergent goals commonly associated with sandbox play are more likely to appear and over time this likelihood grows as the party strings adventures together. 

While parties will likely achieve equilibrium faster and enjoy an adventure more if they bring undeveloped notions to session 0, that will not be a cure-all as there is no substitute for time. A module will create a point of focus to direct the collaboration, and not bringing a completed character sheet to session 0 leaves a player open to adjustments to fit the party goal and dynamic, but all groups can create and pursue emergent goals whether beginning with modules or immediately jumping into an open sandbox.

Emergent goals are the natural result of a long-running campaign. The much venerated open-world sandbox purported to realize the distinguishing feature of RPGs: namely, that one can try to do anything and attempt to make someone of themselves, does this only marginally better than a series of modules. Modules can be placed in a sandbox with ideally minimal effort, but so long as the party encounters opportunities to forge their own goals and is allowed and encouraged to pursue them by an accommodating GM, this group will also realize this feature.

The groups that never find this bliss are ones that have an entire campaign plotted from the beginning. Games where deviation causes significant re-work or loss of work on the part of the GM. We need more modules, and fewer campaign books.

Old School, New Players

TL;DR: Start PCs at 3rd level or higher to get them hooked on old school D&D.

What's it called when you're nostalgic for something that came before your time? I have that for TSR-era D&D and its OSR relatives. There's something beautifully simple and flavorful about it and yet I have only really captured the imagination of a couple players over a dozen sessions and one shots of OD&D and B/X. Most find the rules too arcane, the abilities lacking, the progress slow, and most of all it's too deadly.

Let's give the players credit. From a certain perspective all of those are certainly true given their experience. Most of my players are board gamers whom I successfully talked into a 5E campaign. Not a lot of RPG experience. Not to mention while I voraciously consume OSR content, the OSR itself (not even the editions they celebrate) came long before I found the hobby. So if I failed to deliver a compelling world brimming with adventure well then, I can shoulder my share of blame.

Why level 3? For starters, Gygax was rumored to often start players there and I've seen other grognards follow suit. By 3rd level Fighters can whack a few single-HD creatures in a round. Magic Users have more than 1 spell. Clerics actually have spells and can turn low-level undead semi-reliably. The Magic User and Thief are no longer fearfully ducking for cover at every stray goblin arrow or painstakingly probing every inch of dungeon floor. You could start higher, but at 3rd level each class has access to a modicum of their archetypal abilities.

At 3rd level the players can make more choices about dungeon level. Do they want to troll level 1 for easy marks to beat up and steal their milk money? Or test their mettle on level 4 or 5 in the hopes of striking gold?

3rd level still feels plenty dangerous. No, the players didn't "earn" 3rd level but neither do they "earn" 1st level just as nobody "earns" their natural, genetic abilities. Yes, you want players that excitedly roll up their next character when the first goes down in minutes. But you don't want a potentially good player thinking your "gritty realism" tastes more like nihilism.

Does each level add more abilities and therefore more complexity? Sure, a bit. But DMs generally bear the burden of the rules anyway. This is a feature as players are free to figure out both the world and its rules as they play. Not to mention if they don't know the "rules", they're far less capable of arguing them.

Don't we want players looking to the world for answers instead of their character sheet? Yes, reward all manner of creative and resourceful thinking. The players need to experience that the fun and sense of accomplishment comes from being clever in dire circumstances and earning power, not having built a character with the right powers to render the challenge inert. But having one or two versatile tools in the box may actually stimulate more creativity than the desperation of having none.

Make the player's choices matter. Show the world reacting to what they do. How has the environment changed? How do the NPCs treat the PCs differently now that rumor of their deeds has spread? Players should always be making the decision to put themselves in mortal danger or have reasonable chance of escape.

If you don't choose 3rd level, I understand. But avoid starting at 1st level with a table full of players new to old school. They need to see what's achievable in the world so they hunger to earn it. Once they've got some experience (ha!), once they "get it", then they may appreciate the glory of starring in their own rags to riches story. They may enjoy the macabre humor of death lurking a half-pace beyond stupidity.

DM XP: Understanding a Setting

 As I find myself running 2 campaigns in the Forgotten Realms I've realized I need a better grasp of this setting, or at least of the Sword Coast. This was not the case when I just ran The Lost Mine of Phandelver or The Forge of Fury. But as I link these adventures together and the party wishes to return to Phandalin to keep a promise before proceeding to Undermountain in Waterdeep, the transition from loosely connected adventures into ongoing campaign demands it. Simultaneously I have a party ready to move beyond Greenest and up the Trade Way in pursuit of the Hoard of the Dragon Queen, the threshold over which a single adventure turns into a campaign. It's here I find that to provide any flavorful transition, or to convey any of the uniqueness of this realm, I need more experience with it. This leads me to a few conclusions.

First, obviously it is easier to improvise in a world of your own making without conflicting with established lore. Second, unless you've done significant adventuring in a world yourself, and even then it would be colored by the portrayal of your GM, you must do a significant amount of reading regarding the chosen universe to hope to weave convincing opportunities therein. Both of which raise the questions: Just how much does a GM need to understand a setting to run an adventure in it? What is the rate of return on time invested consuming or creating setting material in terms of how much it enhances the adventure and the campaign?

While I can only speculate at this stage in my GMing career, having only completed two campaigns over 3 years in a world of my own making prior to the situation I outlined at the beginning, I will hazard to guess that a single, smaller adventure will generally be self-sustaining in the setting knowledge required to run it. It's as one attempts to link adventures in different locales of the same world, or runs a larger campaign spanning multiple areas, that one must have a stronger grasp of the surrounding area in order to give it any more than the thinnest descriptive color. At which point the GM may be better off skipping any pretense of descriptive color because should the PCs' imaginations be captured enough to attempt interaction with it, the GM may quickly find themselves throwing up construction zones, clumsily redirecting the PCs, or desperately improvising on top of what little idea they had regarding the contents of the area.

This is is precisely the weakness of published modules. They must necessarily be modular, making few demands of the game world and foisting no additional world-spanning assumptions upon it, leaning entirely on the GM to smooth any discrepancies with its established lore and provide the connective tissue between denizens or adventures held therein. While the PCs are often the single unifying thread, short of hopping from universe to universe with each adventure safe in the assumptions of its own ecosystem, some effort must be put forth on the part of the GM should anyone deign to give even a passing glance to the world fabric between adventuring locations.

I pose many questions and offer few answers save truisms: the more experienced a GM is with a given setting, whether published or of their own design, the more capable they will be of running a rich, meaningful, and flavorful campaign that truly conveys the open-ended magic menagerie of choices offered uniquely to players of tabletop RPGs.

I will also point out it will be difficult to afford the wonder and respect due a GM and the adventuring world should any player at the table sufficiently exceed the GM in knowledge of that world. This is true of setting lore, as well as rules and any implications in between. This is perhaps the greatest argument in favor of GMs creating their own worlds. Knowledge of that world should primarily be gained through play within it, and the mystery maintained by the one holding mastery over it, eschewing any outside source that would intentionally or mistakenly subvert it.

Finally it occurs to me that as with fine intoxicants, novelty is often a detriment to the reliable, multi-faceted experience of age. The characters that necessarily develop over a long-running campaign will always be more memorable and more personal than shiny new abilities and personalities. The world that grows and persists with the passage of these characters, the years that pass in a universe shared by a consistent group of players even as their characters retire or die, and they start anew with fresh characters and adventures both, offer a far more satisfying RPG experience than weekend trysts or summer romances. The GMs that have invested decades into their craft, whether across many worlds or just a few, are treasures that cannot be underestimated.

The Granularity of PC Actions

If you ever walk away from a session of D&D thinking not much happened, your game may be too granular. This is D&D, the game where a three month journey takes three seconds and a three minute combat takes three hours.

The trick is twofold: conveying to the players the granularity at which you would like them to state their actions, and cutting to the next scene when the tension is resolved and a decision is made.

For the players, the granularity depends on the fictional situation, but mostly it depends on the DM. You don't ask the PCs to narrate step-by-step going down to the bar for an ale. So don't ask them to navigate street by street to go to Gilmore's Glorious Goods.

If your game isn't a hex crawl, or is in no way about resource management and long-distance travel, let your players say "We go to Waterdeep". Encourage them to say that if it's what they want. Charge them some gold for food and transportation and say "you arrive 2 weeks later". If they must run into the Waterdevian army on the march or some other key encounter, only then interrupt the journey.

If your game isn't a dungeon crawl that involves careful mapping, managing light food and water, or the possibility of getting lost, don't narrate every twist and turn or provide cardinal directions and exact dimensions of every corridor and room. Ask for some sort of exploration check if you must and tell them the options that they find.

You might think this eliminates the possibility of traps but you'd be wrong. Part of the exploration check can include spotting signs of a hidden trap. If they fail to spot it, triggering the trap starts an encounter which should be dynamic and interesting, not just a hit point tax or instant death. Even better, make traps obvious but navigating past them the real challenge.

You might think this eliminates the possibility of getting lost but you'd be wrong. Part of the exploration check can be keeping a rough idea of where the PCs are. Failure on the exploration check might bring the PCs back to a place that they've already been, or bring them to a place they were not intending to go and suffer another potentially dangerous encounter. This is especially effective if they're trying to get back out of the dungeon or wilderness.

This game is about making interesting choices in tough situations. Let's leave the "crawl" to the dungeon and hex crawls, and the high percentage of empty rooms and hexes with them. You don't raise the tension by carefully exploring 4 empty rooms before the action happens in the 5th. You keep the tension high by narrating them right to the 5th room, and the 5th room after that, and the 3rd one after that, so that when your players leave the table they're gasping for breath in awe of all the fantastic adventuring they got done.

PCs Without Stats

One of the greatest insights in Tracy Hickman's Xtreme Dungeon Mastery is that most of D&D (and other d20 RPGs) comes down to rolling a specific number or higher on the d20, or any die for that matter. As Professor Dungeon Master of the Dungeon Craft YouTube channel states "this is like seeing the matrix".

What this means is the DM can take any player action, however grand or granular, judge how difficult that task would be for this character, and ask the player to roll that number or higher on a d20. This is a beautiful foundation upon which you can play any sort of RPG in any setting with virtually no other mechanical rules.

In most games we differentiate character abilities by stats. These translate into roll-under target numbers or map to bonuses depending on the system. Generally either these stats improve over time, or some other bonus (training, proficiency, etc.) improves as the PC gains experience. These bonuses are intended to reflect the PC getting better at their specialty but can create bonus inflation depending on how quickly they're accrued.

Inspired further by the XD20 system laid out in Hickman's book I've begun to wonder about stat-less PCs. Hickman's system only has 3 stats (subtract d8 from 15 and that's your target number for physical, mental, and magic/luck-based tasks) and "leveling up" only ever gives the player the ability to contest a DC by stating "I'm a level 5 Thief. Picking that drunkard's pocket should be easier than that", which a DM can choose to adjust for or ignore. That's it. No extra hit points, skills, or bonuses.

I dislike that a player is rolling for a fixed target number on their sheet. The GM can adjust it but they have to either know it or ask for it first. But the leveling up idea I want to take to the extreme. If we remove stats entirely, PCs instead become an archetype or even a classless, imprecise set of skills. The only "stat" is their level and its only value is helping the DM pick a target number between 1 and 20 for the given task.

If the task is easy, something the character is naturally be good at, or something they're trained to do, the DC should be lower. If the task is difficult or something the character is bad at and has never practiced, the DC should be higher.

Examples:

A 5th level "Thief" tries to pick a drunkard's pocket. DC: 5

The same Thief, who is typically standoffish, tries to befriend the drunkard: DC 10

The same Thief, who is scrawny and poorly fed, tries to withstand a weak poison: DC 15

The same Thief tries to strike a dragon with a 2-handed great sword: DC 20

A 5th level "Paladin" in the same, if unlikely, situations may well have the opposite DCs.

It is then up to the DM and the table to decide how many vague attributes or skills the PCs begin with, and whether than can gain more during play or by training during down time. The point is it happens in the fiction and the only mechanical implication is a DM can rule a target number by assessing a PCs level and what they're good at.

This makes rulings over rules the heart of the game.

Roleplaying Traps

Traps, riddles, and puzzles can be a strange beast in roleplaying games. We don't expect the player to physically lift the portcullis, we make a ruling based on the character's Strength. So why do we expect the player to solve the riddle as opposed to the character?

Some say we shouldn't. The GM should make a ruling and possibly ask for a roll based on the character's Intelligence. But that seems boring.

Some say mental stats shouldn't apply to this aspect of the game. The fun is actually solving the puzzle not simulating solving a puzzle, so let the players have at it regardless of character. But that can break verisimilitude. Why are we pausing the role-playing to solve a riddle as friends around a card table in mom's basement?

Some players aren't good at or don't enjoy puzzles but would still like to play a brainiac. Some players are great at puzzles but want to play a dumb brute. The best answer always depends on your table, but here's my approach:

If the table doesn't like puzzles don't put them in your game at all. Narrate the smart characters solving them or perhaps making a roll, and for the love of the gods don't hang a choke point in your adventure on it.

If the table likes puzzles, test the players but feed the clues to the most Intelligent characters. If the player that is really good at puzzles happens to be playing the dumb brute, encourage the player to *gasp* role play solving it. This can be good fun and quite humorous when the character solves it by "accident" or "unknowingly" asks the right questions that point the more Intelligent characters in the right direction. Don't be condescending, but play it innocently, whole-heartedly, and convincingly.

By the way the same sort of principles also apply to awkward nerds that want to play a Casanova, or to emotionally intelligent players that would like to play someone socially daft. Feed relevant information to the appropriate characters. Encourage players to role-play unlikely outcomes for their ill-suited character or indirectly set up the "appropriate" character for success by playing the foil, the fall guy, or the dupe.

P.S. I'm intrigued by the idea of only having physical stats and relying on the player's Wisdom, Intelligence, Charisma, etc. Go ahead and role-play convincing the guard to let you into the party. The GM can make a ruling or ask for a roll depending on how convincing they think you were. Food for thought...

Convictions, Pre-gens, and Plot Hooks

Many players are bad at giving their PCs strong convictions and goals which leads to weak commitments to any particular adventure hook and a boring lack of drama. This is especially true in sandbox games where the PCs need to drive the plot and have the luxury of a GM willing to provide the opportunities to achieve those goals within the world. The solution to make your game more exciting is conviction and commitment. But where does that come from?

Motivated players that give their PCs convictions and commit to goals may be allowed the right to do so in a freeform, sandbox, or emergent story style of game.

Most players, especially novices need a little more guidance. The easiest is pre-generated characters. The GM can easily create these and by default they will fit the setting and being invested in the adventure because they were tailor made that way. You may find boundaries inspire player creativity. 

The middle ground is collaboration: GM and player both contribute to the creation of the character. The more freedom a player is given however, the stronger convictions they must have and the more the GM must be willing to customize the world to accommodate achieving those goals. If the adventure is decided, players are highly encouraged to tailor their character to that adventure. Otherwise the GM should prescribe the PC's goals for them. For best results, add drama.

The freedom to pursue absolutely anything at the macro level is considered the pinnacle of an RPG campaign. But for many tables this is not the goal, nor should it be. The goal is to get the PCs invested in the adventure being run and if that's already been decided, the game should start after they've taken the bait. Reduce the overwhelming nature of macro-decisions. Establish the stakes of the adventure and why the PCs are already invested. Then allow freedom in the micro: how they will attack the adventure itself given the established goals, and how they handle individual encounters within that context. Helpful players will lean into this whole-heartedly. Reluctant ones need to establish stronger convictions for their character, lose the freedom to decide, or simply don't go on the adventure because it's not something their character is interested in. They can have fun not playing the game.

No More +1 Swords

 or shields, armor, cloaks of protection or any other magic item that gives a flat bonus "because magic". These add little more than passive stat inflation to the game. They're lazy, and on a d20 they make little difference (5%).

Instead give your magic items rich descriptions evocative of their history. Give them interesting, flavorful, and specific abilities - be that extra damage or defense against a particular class of monster, a strange magical property, or the ability to cast one of the oft-overlooked utility spells.

And on the monster side - drop the immunities to non-magical attacks. If the PCs need a special weapon to harm a monster it should be specific and foreshadowed. By specific I mean made of silver or iron, blessed by a priest, or submerged in running water. I don't mean "magic" or a specific weapon unless it's the adventure McGuffin needed to defeat the villain. By telegraphed I mean the PCs should encounter (even if they're not looking for it) lore in an old library or rumors in a tavern. On the adventure it could be a silver dagger on another adventurer's corpse, an old prayer book, or a fountain with runes etched in the stonework. The first time the PCs are clued in about this resistance should not be when they meet the monster in a violent encounter.

If you choose to include a magic sword or the like in your game, make it artifact-level rare and powerful enough (+3, +5, etc.) to make any wielder truly dangerous. Make the requirements to wield it exacting as well - perhaps the sword is intelligent and must be subdued. Perhaps the wielder must swear an oath or be cursed. Perhaps the would-be wielder must fulfill some quest to earn the right to its power.

What is roleplaying?

Roleplaying is making fictional decisions in a fictional scenario.

In the context of roleplaying games, roleplaying is making fictional decisions in a fictional scenario for a fictional character based on what the player believes the character would do.

Why do we roleplay?

Improvising exciting or funny stories is fun.

Practicing responding to hypothetical situations is educational.

Who can you roleplay as?

You can roleplay as anyone in any situation. In roleplaying games, players often get to create the character they will play. This can be an idealized or exaggerated version of themselves, inspired by a real person or a fictional character that the player finds compelling, entirely random, or wholly opposite to the player in personality or values.

Types of Characters

The kind of character a player chooses indicates what the player is looking for in the game. Playing an ideal version of yourself, or a character you find compelling in a fictional world is a common fantasy. Playing an exaggerated version of yourself can be funny. These are easier because it’s not hard to imagine what you or that compelling character would do in a fictional scenario. Playing a character different from yourself is more challenging. A random character may have to be entirely improvised or “discovered” during play, making it likely to be a fictional extension of yourself. A character opposed to the players’ values forces the player to make decisions that feel strange but allows the player to experience a different perspective.

Making Decisions

The heart of roleplaying is making decisions. It’s a mixture of what the player thinks the character would do and what the player wants the character to do. Many hobby role-players make sub-optimal decisions for their character based on what they think the character would do and consider making strictly mechanically optimal decisions meta-gaming. In educational exercises or improvisational comedy, it’s better to make choices that are likely to succeed or be humorous. I would argue hobbyists should also make decisions for the character based on what the player (or the table) thinks would be fun. A good role-player sometimes makes sub-optimal mechanical choices for narrative reasons. It’s also fun to make sub-optimal narrative decisions to create more interesting and challenging situations for the character to be mechanically optimal.

A character that favors their family weapon in a personal fight, even if it’s mechanically inferior to the one they found last session is a good story. A group of ragtag misfits that pull off a heist even though some aren’t very stealthy and others are morally conflicted is a great story.

Allow your character into sub-optimal situations where they can shine. The greater the challenge, the greater the glory.