"Rules? Where we're going, we don't NEED rules!"

If you don't know Axe Cop, you don't know Awesome!

Last night's game felt like one of the best sessions we have had in a long time and I felt it was largely because I played fast and loose with the rules, often ignoring them altogether. The bulk of last night consisted of a mass combat encounter. My players were tasked with delaying a charging horde of orcs for as long as possible to buy their allies, who were readying an airship for evacuation, time to make the necessary preparations.


Massive combat encounters like the one last night can quickly become unwieldy if too much emphasis is placed on game rules and rolling dice. So, I decided to take a much more narrative approach to the night and, judging by my players' post-game comments, the results were satisfying to all.


When I did need to crunch numbers, I used the Rule of Fives to speed things up, but if it wasn't necessary, I turned instead to the Rule of Cool (i.e. what would make this situation more awesome?) I should qualify that my interpretation of the Rule of Cool is not to use it to gloss over plot holes, but rather to allow my brain to emphasize storytelling over game rules. For example, last night I had several orc druids materialize on a cliff-side out of clouds of flies and begin hurling pillars of flame at the fleeing heroes. Could they have actually moved fast enough to get there in one round? Who cares!? The end-result added to the sense of danger in the scene and so was definitely worth it. On the flip side, my players were slinging area of effect spells into the path of the horde. Is it necessary to roll grapple checks for every orc when the ground beneath their feet erupts in 10 foot-long writhing tentacles? No! just describe how most of them are being hurled into the air, or slammed against the canyon walls.


The thing that was really clicking for me last night was the realization that players (or mine at least) don't play for the rules. They play for the stories, and as long as the story presents a level of excitement that makes them feel like badass heroes, everyone will come away happy.


On a more bittersweet note, I used last night's game as an opportunity to usher one of my story's main characters out of the game. A temporary hiatus by the character's player, who is in an uber-rigorous post-graduate program, became indefinite a couple months ago. Since then, I have been gradually working on an exit strategy so that the group is not burdened with a permanent non-player character drawing time and glory from the real people who are still attending game nights.


My strategy for working the character out was two-fold:
1. Make it Epic
2. Leave the exact nature of the exit open to some interpretation


I wrote a sort of cut scene for the game which came at the climax of the orc battle, and it couldn't have punctuated the event more perfectly. Here it is:


Dramatis Personae:
Lanna - A half-elf paladin of Ehlonna, the goddess of nature
Ceffyl - Lanna's unicorn mount (The unicorn is also a symbol of her goddess)
Ignus - Lanna's magic, flaming longsword
Steponas - The prince of Cydon, a traveling companion to our heroes

The press of orcs becomes more intense, threatening to overwhelm your defenses. It is clear that you will need to abandon your station soon.

Steponas calls out, "There are too many of them, we must return to the ship!"

Lanna shouts, "If we flee, they will overtake us! You go! I shall hold them as long as I can!

Do not argue, Ceffyl has the best chance of outrunning them. Now go!"

Lanna turns to face the sea of onrushing orcs. Ceffyl rears as she raises Ignus above her head and cries out, “I am the tempest over the sea. I am the quaking of the mountains, I am nature’s wrath! For the glory of Ehlonna!” and then she charges into the orcish ranks, her sword scattering bodies in all directions.

As the tide of orcs closes around her, a radiant light seems to cover Lanna and Ceffyl. Perhaps it’s a trick of the mind, but it seems to have the shape of a great celestial charger.

Anyway, game sessions like last night's always leave me feeling energized and ready to jump into the next phase of creative awesome. The dread of my previous post has faded and been replaced with an icy cool sense of determination to make the final act of this story arc super epic.

Changing the Leopard's Spots: Reskinning in D&D

I'm gonna sing the doom song!

The terms, "skinning" and "reskinning" get thrown around a lot in 4th Edition D&D blogs, forums, literature and other forms of communication. the terms refer to changing the description (a.k.a. the fluff) of a game element -most frequently a monster or spell- while retaining the underlying game mechanics (a.k.a. the crunch). The discourse in 4th Edition encourages DM's to use reskinning to quickly adapt a particular game element to fit another situation (e.g. using the statistics of an orc to represent a particularly dim but burly street thug.) sometimes even encouraging the practice to bend genres (e.g. reskinning a beholder from D&D into a sentient and malevolent spy droid in Gamma World.)

Now, my game of choice is an earlier edition of D&D (3.5) but I have nonetheless become incredibly enamored of reskinning and ideas about the subject have been ping-ponging around in my head lately. Earlier this week, I was particularly inspired by the Chatty DM's account of his game at the Grand Roludothon, which featured a masterfully skinned character named Elan the Eladrin mage.


Chatty's account of Elan at the game table highlights one of many potential benefits to skinning: It can help push the players out of a passive, hack and slash mindset. It allows both player and GM to customize things like spells and special moves to better fit a character or situation. Casting a simple spell in combat can suddenly become a launching point for deeper roleplay. A fireball could be just a fireball, but if the caster launches it by spitting out a swig of dwarven rot-gut and then flicking a match, it becomes something to talk about. (I smell an intervention!)


I have not had a whole lot of opportunity to incorporate skinning techniques into my game as of yet. So far, I have mostly used it to develop unique magic items, such as the recently acquired, "Gentleman's Defense" -a magic parasol that functions as a rapier when closed, or as a small shield while open. In this example, I simply took the stats for a rapier and shield from the equipment lists in the player's handbook, and the stats used depend on how the parasol is being used.


However! Though I have not implemented a major reskin for a character in my game just yet, I did come up with a pretty kickass idea for a bard based on an archetypal heavy metal singer. Here's the fluff:


Stephen Rawking, Bard
Description: 
Stephen originally hails from one of the barbarian tribes in the frozen north. Though he has migrated into the civilized "warmlands" (as his tribe calls them) he has retained many of the traditional modes of dress from his homeland. He wears his hair loose and long, seldom bothering to comb it. He dresses primarily in hardened animal skins with, fur boots and accents. Like the warrior skalds of his tribe, Stephen is expected to fight, and so blades have been affixed to his guitar to double as an axe should he find himself in combat. The magic guitar is further empowered with electrical magic, which can deliver a shock to any it strikes.


Bardic Music:
(Here's where things get fun! I will begin with the official summary of each power and then add my own flavor)
Countersong (Su): A bard with 3 or more ranks in a Perform skill can use his music or poetics to counter magical effects that depend on sound (but not spells that simply have verbal components). Stephen let's out a sustained wail from his electric guitar, drowning out sonic magic within the area.


Fascinate (Sp): A bard with 3 or more ranks in a Perform skill can use his music or poetics to cause one or more creatures to become fascinated with him. Stephen launches into a complex scale progression, which grows in speed, complexity and intensity as he continues to play, all affected stop and watch, wondering "how does he DO that!?"


Inspire Courage (Su): A bard with 3 or more ranks in a Perform skill can use song or poetics to inspire courage in his allies (including himself), bolstering them against fear and improving their combat abilities. Launching into a driving chord progression broken by well-timed key changes, Stephen stirs the blood of his allies with a battle-hymn call to arms.


Spells: (I'll just do one example from each spell level)
Level 0
Summon Instrument: This spell summons one handheld musical instrument of your choice. Stephen hold his hand dramatically out to the side, and suddenly a portal to the 9 Hells opens and an imp in a black t-shirt steps through, placing a fresh guitar in stephens hand before disappearing back from whence he came.
Level 1
Charm Person: This charm makes a humanoid creature regard you as its trusted friend and ally (treat the target’s attitude as friendly). Stephen flashes a smile, speaking in his handsome northern brogue, he invites the spell's target to join him for an after-party later that day.
Level 2
Glitterdust: A cloud of golden particles covers everyone and everything in the area, causing creatures to become blinded and visibly outlining invisible things for the duration of the spell. Rawking lets out a sustained high note and stomps his foot, two bursts of sparkling dust erupt from the ground with a sudden flash covering all within the area.
Level 3
Confusion: This spell causes the targets to become confused, making them unable to independently determine what they will do. Caught up in Stephen's music, the targets of this spell begin to flail about in a chaotic revelry of rawk (mosh pit!) roll to determine their action each round.


d%     Behavior
01–10 Attack caster with melee or ranged weapons. (The creature becomes overzealous and lunges at Stephen)
11–20 Act normally.
21–50 Do nothing but babble incoherently. (The creature cheers, whistles or attempts to sing along)
51–70 Flee away from caster at top possible speed.
71–100 Attack nearest creature (Mosh pit!!!).

I think the example of Stephen Rawking does an excellent job of illustrating the ability of custom flavor text to make a character unique and memorable without requiring a whole custom rule set. I hope to start incorporating more of these specific types of description into my game in the future, and if any of my players are reading this: there might be some bonus xp if you come up with something similar for your character!