A few weeks before X-mas, I mentioned on that “When failure is not an option in a scene, don’t roll any dice”. I think I coined the expression first when I Jedi Mind tricked my Mutant Future GM at a local con into saving me a roll that would likely derail the game if I failed.
I reused the expression more recently. Of course, this made my friend Chgowiz twitch because he espouses a completely opposite philosophy which is “Failure should always be an option”. After discussing it, we decided to make this an He Said/He Said double post about the subject. And to talk from a common point, we woulduse the same example as a source, a recent post that appeared on the Retro-gaming blog (we decided to keep the blog private to spare the guy unasked for attention. The blogger in question is free to pipe so I can link to him).
You can see Chgowiz’s take on the subject here.
The Situation:
In his adventure, our Retro DM has players that are new to tabletop RPGs and can only play a 3 session adventure. They start their second session with an open ended plot: “Track down a key in the hands of a a group of guys led by a lvl 5 Magic User” I assume the game system is either OD&D, 1e or a clone.
The NPCs stop for the night in an abandoned Guardhouse and the PCs catch up to the bad guys. There the DM is stunned by the party’s decision to knock on the door of the guardhouse. Totally caught by surprise by what I suspect the DM considers suicidal folly (flag), the blogger tries to avoid a TPK (flag) by ‘unrealistically’ (in his opinion, flag) having the much stronger bandits make no noise to convince the party to leave. Then the party tries breaking down the door, forcing the DM to act.
The DM finally came forth and told the players they were too outmatched to survive this (probably breaking immersion in the DM’s opinion) and requested they come up with an alternative plan.
The Analysis
Before I turn the situation to you, I want to mention a few ground rules. All GMing situations are easy to judge and analyze in hindsight. When you are away from the GM screen or when it’s not your screen, no situations seems difficult. So I’ll try to keep all this in mind when I share my insights in this and I ask you to do the same .
The flags I raised in the situation have one common element:
- Totally caught by surprise by what I suspect the DM considers suicidal folly
- Absolutely Avoid a TPK
- Make the Bandit act ‘unrealistically’
In this situation, I think that the ‘Can’t afford to Fail point’ is that the PCs could not be killed by the bandits (further reading of the comments shows another ‘can’t fail’ that I will leave to Chgowiz). It would have brought the game to a screeching halt too early for the new players to sink their teeth in the joy of D&D.
But that’s a dead dnd only in the DM’s mind because he decided that only logical consequence for player failure/sub-optimal strategies/stupidity in this adventure is death…
Guys! Stop doing that! That’s NOT true!
Yet I understand the DM, i really do. I’ve been there hundreds of time. There’s something about having bad guys with weapons that make it seem logical and almost inevitable to try to kill PCs whenever they meet.
Here’s an alternative: If the PCs decide to knock on a lair filled with more powerful NPCs, make a memorable fight where PCs feel they may have a chance but ultimately fail to the whiles of lady chance. However, don’t tell the PCs that the Bandits are fighting without trying to kill them. I know OD&D and 1e have no/broken subdual combat rules, but screw that! Use 4e’s “at 0 HP your PC is KO if the NPC wish it so” and move on (if they complain, kill their PC as the rule demand).
Then have them all wake up at dawn, tied up and have them plead for their lives with the bad guy, possibly sending them on a side-quest.
Thus, the main quest may be post-poned and a new one starts.
Oh and if the PCs kill the bad guy? Well, lady chance can be a bitch, I hope you don’t grow too attached to your NPCs.
My Conclusion
Plot dead-ends happen for 2 reasons.
- The adventure is planned too inflexibly to allow for creative player input, in such case, break the adventure, you’ll fix it later.
- The DM has a series of pre-ordained consequences for failure that he’s not actually comfortable seeing through. In such cases, change the consequences to cooler, more appropriate ones.
And if you’re really stuck, call a break, take 5 min and ask yourself the 4 questions of improvisation.
Your Turn
Plot Dead Ends, Retro DM’s or yours… How do you deal with them? Are they an issue? Come on, be honest… Heaven knows I have been in my game reports.
One method of dealing with situations like that is humor. If you’re going to break some rules and dismantle some suspension of disbelief the most forgiving way to do so is one that amuses people in it’s own right.
For example in the setup provided the DM can describe the scene so the players know there’s no way they can walk in and deal directly with the bandits, then throw some hijinks into the mix. Things like the bandits answering the door and saying they aren’t buying any more girl scout (or ranger lass or whatever) cookies. Or possibly mistake the characters for weapons and armor merchants and start haggling (ie insulting) their arms and weapons, then offering to buy them at chintzy prices. Or perhaps the bandits and the wizard try passing themselves off as a carnival troupe and subject the players to some frighteningly bad performances.
I think it took me about 10 minutes to think of all those so definitely a hindsight thing. The best way to handle a situation like that is if it’s a player plan you’re dealing with… First thing is to pause the game and ask how they expect it to play out.
There is the assumption that any meeting of opposing parties must end in violence. I think getting rid of that would help matters significantly.
.-= Tommi Brander´s last blog ..We fight the woods =-.
I completely fail to see how this situation is any kind of problem. First things first, (and I did not stop to think this up, I am typing as I am thinking these words) I would have the bandits yell a query along the lines of “Who goes there?” or some such. Given a convincing reason, they would open the door – combat does not even have to occur here, let alone result in player death. If the door is opened/bashed down, I would describe the NPCs in a way that makes it obvious that they are much more powerful. Finally, if the player’s rushed in swords a blazin’, I would probably just have the NPCs run away. Remember, even if the GM knows that the players are outmatched, the NPCs don’t. They would probably assume that anyone who is kicking in their door and charging in weapons drawn is probably a force to be reckoned with. The NPCs are not wearing their armor, and they franticly grab for their packs, clutch armor and weapons and run off, granting the party a few free swipes at them. Then the chase is on.
Or, alternatively, you could just let the fight play out – players will ALWAYS surprise you with the crap they can survive with ingenuity and luck. The fight that they should have lost but somehow managed to pull out just might be the thing that gets them hooked!
.-= Carl Nash´s last blog ..My d30’s arrived! Thanks Emma! =-.
@Lanir: In that pause, I also think it’s worth asking “What internal hang-ups are making this more difficult for me” and explore how to break them.
@Tommi: Agreed. Or at least that this violence has to be deadly.
@Carl Nash: But there is a problem. Not in the situation, as all armchair DMs reading this site will predict, but in the DM’s mind. He painted himself in a corner based on constraints he imposed on himself and on his perception of the game.
And the true ‘solution’ lies in recognizing those barriers and bringing them down… then that Retro DM can develop reflexes exactly like our own.
@ChattyDM: That’s definitely a good suggestion… I’m reluctantly leaning towards that being an after-game reflection though. Or perhaps part of your winding down and chatting with the players at the end of a session (if that’s part of your style). I just know that -my- issues, as simple and fairly standard as they may be, always seem very complex and unique from the inside perspective. 🙂
Oh and as a bonus, let me share one of my “oops!” moments. I was running Earthdawn, probably around a decade ago. I had a windling swordmaster and a human warrior assaulting a group of slavers. The slaver guards were moderately tough and hit for a reasonably good amount of damage. The D&D translation for this scenario would probably be a halfling rogue with a couple of defensive items and low hit points and a fairly solid warrior type versus a couple moderately tough thugs of similar level/HD. The thing that bit me was the human warrior took several small hits and was fine, then the low health windling got hit. Didn’t dodge it. And got killed in pretty much one hit.
I could have let the character die there and if I had it to run again today, I think I would really consider doing that. With just two PCs though it seemed kind of important to the personal dynamic to keep the character alive. So I fudged it, knocked the windling out for the duration of the fight and handed out a vision of divine intervention (no verification on whether it actually happened or not though). I know it’s cliched but I’d never used that particular trick before. Now I know why I don’t want to use it. 🙂
You make some good points, Chatty. I agree that the problem lies in the DM’s inflexibility, but I also see a problem or two with your solutions given the constraints of the situation. To wit:
1. Taking the PCs for possible ransom makes perfect sense as a way to avoid the TPK (and provides an excellent roleplaying opportunity), but a side quest will eat up valuable time that the DM and players don’t have. They are constrained to 3 sessions, remember? In a longer campaign, I think this would be a great solution.
2. Kill the PCs. Well, that’s what led to the disagreement in the first place, isn’t it? Again, this is a reasonable outcome, but would ruin the DM’s opus. The PCs could write up new characters and come in as the second wave or avenging friends/relatives, but that, too, could exhaust needed adventuring time.
3. A mole. One of the bandits might really be an agent for the Duke or the City Guard. He may have infiltrated the gang to report on its activities and identify their boss, but can’t bring them in alone. When the PCs rush in, he might be able to tip the scales just enough to make an even fight of it (backstabbing the wizard, for example). The PCs get to be heroes, are saved from their own inexperience, and the adventure continues apace. Huzzah!
4. The PCs could run away. Yeah, it isn’t the first action that comes into a player’s or DM’s mind, but sometimes you have to recognize that the deck is stacked against you. Whether its because of the opposing force, bad rolls, unfortunate circumstances, whatever, sometimes it is better to fall back and regroup. If the PCs retreated after seeing the number of bandits amassed against them (taking a few slings and arrows of outrageous fortune in the process, of course), they could heal up, revise their plan, and come at them in a more strategic manner without derailing the DM’s carefully plotted plans. (Of course, some players will never retreat. It’s in their mindset. In that case, they may just have to die and the DM can run a one-shot for the next adventure. Sorry!)
Aside: I sometimes intentionally put an encounter into my adventures that the PCs can’t win. It might foreshadow the big bad guy that the PCs might eventually be expected to take down later in the campaign (and give the PCs a reason to hate him). It might be to humble a party that has gotten a little too smug and casual about the way they dismantle dungeons or disrespect villagers. At any rate, it’s good to bring players down to earth once in a while and remind them of their own mortality.
5. Finally, since this sounds like the players may be newbies anyway, the DM could have used this as an instructional opportunity and made it a learning session for the players. He could have said, “Ok. Maybe it wasn’t clear earlier how big and strong the bandit party is compared to you guys. Since you haven’t played a lot of adventures yet, let’s rewind to a few minutes before you arrive at the guardhouse and discuss alternatives and what might be the consequences of your actions. Then, you can weigh your chances given your abilities and choose what you think is the best solution. We won’t do this every time, but I think it might save your lives here and get you thinking more tactically like adventurers would have to do.” Then, in general terms, talk about how the bandits might respond to different actions and what the likely outcome would be given the party’s weaker strength of arms. Just ask the questions, so the the players put themselves in the bandits’ places. That way, they will be more willing to accept the conclusion that they might be outmatched going toe-to-toe rather than feel like the DM is lecturing them. The players will likely come up with a better, more elaborate plan to succeed, perhaps with subterfuge and guile more than head to head mass destruction.
Those are my suggestions as to how it might have been handled better. However, there are occasions where a PC seems hell bent on doing away with herself and, at some point, the DM just has to acquiesce and end them. I’ll give you an example in my next post.
Gary
The Too Stupid (or Stubborn) to Live Scenario:
In my previous post, I alluded to a situation where, despite the DM’s best efforts, a PC seems determined to end her miserable existence. This is one example.
Several years ago, I wrote a tournament AD&D module for the RPGA called “The Battle for Whitestone Keep.” It involved mysterious highway robberies in which valuables were left behind but bodies were taken, a ruined keep, lots of undead, and a necromancer.
When the party reached the keep, they heard a description which included a row of apple trees outside the keep’s chapel. The trees were twisted and barren, with only a few ragged leaves and one or two shriveled apples adorning their branches. Most of the party, intent on the business at hand, ignored the trees and went inside the chapel. One character stayed outside and examined the trees in greater detail. I told her that the bark of their trunks writhed and bent so that it appeared that each tree had an evil face formed from the pulled lines of the bark and knotholes in the wood. I reminded her that the rest of the party was making its way through the chapel and might be wondering where she is. She wanted to know more about the trees. I told her that the limbs were crooked and bent almost as if they were jointed, with each limb ending in four or five small branches like long claws.
I thought this would make it obvious to the player that these were not ordinary trees. I really was trying hard not to kill this character, as this was still way early in the adventure. Other players at the table seemed to catch on. One of them gasped, another groaned, but they stayed in character and didn’t give the secret away with player knowledge. In fact, the trees were a pack of ghouls under a “massmorph” spell (a 1st edition variation of polymorph that changed several creatures into the same form). My intent had been to have the ghouls stalk the party from behind once the PCs were well into the chapel. Oblivious, the PC didn’t rejoin her party. Instead, she started poking at the trees with her blade to see if they would react. They did, she failed her save vs. paralysis, and that was the end of her. It was sad for a player to have to sit out 2/3 of the adventure, but even she agreed she deserved it.
Gary
There’s a real temptation to answer the question of “what could the DM have done better” in these situations. It’s true that it seems like he had a pre-determined outcome in mind for the game. And it’s also likely that he had a pre-determined solution to the “problem” of the scenario (or multiple solutions–none of which included frontal assault).
But the real problem is the situation that the DM presented the players with. With that situation (track down a group of guys), it’s reasonable to assume that you’re supposed to try to catch the bandits and take back the stolen item.
If the DM actually wanted to play out a different situation (steal back the key, for example), he needed to present the situation differently to the players. It wouldn’t be out of line to tell them “these guys are too tough for a fair fight” or “this wizard can kill you all with a word”.
Then he can be free to arrange the opposition and react to whatever the newbies come up with.
@Gary: I think that it’s not so much of a problem if the party is held for ransom. If holding a party for ransom and using three sessions to resolve a “side quest” derails the plot, maybe…well…the plot was being railroaded? I’m not a big believer that “side quests” exist. I think that something really cool can be made when you tie everything into one, progressive plot. So maybe their being held for ransom doesn’t go along with what you’ve planned.
So what?
I mean, think of all the new possibilities that this presents. By holding the PCs for ransom, maybe the bandits tick somebody else off, somebody who likes the PCs. Maybe this pushes them to urge more aggressive action against the bandits, tipping a political balance and dramatically shifting how things work in the game. There is no such thing as an “insignificant side quest”, if you look at it right. Everything is an opportunity to enrich the story.
@Chatty: Very nice look at things. I see the Mouse Guarding is paying off. 😉 Which is cool, because it’s really something that’s strongly growing to influence my own approach to storytelling, at least, once I get around to GMing a group of something. I can definitely see how these concepts are clicking into place. It’s a very different paradigm from the standard D&D gamers’ approach to things (“find things, complete quests, kill and loot”), and I like it far better.
@cr0m: I dunno, the situation doesn’t seem problematic to me. Sure, the situation was presented to the PCs as “track down and kill the bandits”, but how does that ensure that the situation as presented was accurate and fair? What if whoever sent them on this quest had flawed information about the strength of the bandits? What if their numbers have suddenly swelled? If you think about it, the DM isn’t actually under any obligation to be completely truthful about the situation.
Why should he give them misleading or incomplete information? Well, as long as such information isn’t a death sentence, they can recover from it, and it adds more crimps and crinkles to the plot, which is always good. Of course, there should also be an in-game justification for the incorrect info (“they didn’t know all the facts”, “there was a traitor in the King’s court who misled them”, etc.). It’s not about the DM opposing the players, yet fighting fair. It’s about the DM getting the players into trouble, then making sure they can get out.
@General Comments: It seems to me that this group of players wasn’t necessarily stupid so much as “spoiled”. They had this idea that because the DM wouldn’t TPK them, they were nigh invincible when facing impossible odds. So they did the only logical thing: they called the DM’s bluff. They knew he didn’t want to TPK, so they walked into the jaws of death, knowing that he’d bend over backwards to avoid it.
So I really like the idea of imposing consequences other than death, especially because such consequences can be (to the player) worse than death. I mean, your character dies, many players roll up a new character. But if your character’s imprisoned, and thus capable of far less for a few days, that greatly restricts you, and you can’t roll up a new character.
.-= Andy´s last blog ..An Examination of Epic, Part I =-.
Why would the guards react immediatly to violence, people have value either pressganged into banditry, sold as slaves or for the wizards dark purposes. Maybe the guards just surrounded them and let them and demand surrender. let the PC’s know (if they have any fighters), “Your combat training lets you know they are more than a match for you”
.-= Zzarchov´s last blog ..Hand-eye co-ordination and damage creep. =-.
@Andy, I’m not saying DMs can’t present unreliable information to players generally. I’m saying that using that kind of bait-and-switch on newbies for a focused, three-session game is not such a great idea.
@cr0m: That’s a good point. I rather forgot about that aspect whilst writing my post…
.-= Andy´s last blog ..An Examination of Epic, Part I =-.
@Andy – I’m not arguing that unexpected kinks or turns in the storyline can’t be wonderful things. I was simply saying that as the players were “constrained to three sessions” and the DM wanted to get them to a resolution of the story arc, the ransom roleplaying might take too long. As I noted, it would be a great roleplaying opportunity, but it would likely change the course of the adventure and require the DM to change or significantly revise his third adventure. While I’m perfectly content to that in my own ongoing campaign, I was trying to address the situation with respect to the ground rules that were presented or assumed on my part (avoid TPK, 3 session maximum, try to get to DM’s resolution for the story arc). Personally, improvisation on the part of the DM and the players is a great part of roleplaying.
cr0m, I think you hit it on the head. Being new players I set them up to put themselves in a bad postion. They had too little experience to judge the risk. I’ve had a good time reading through all the comments from everyone and appreciate the feedback on the situation.
I’ll be re-writing the module and incorporate some of the pointers from everyone. Most specifically opening up the storyline tremendously. As someone else pointed out, by creating too narrow of a storyline it actually makes adapting to the Players more difficult. The irony is that my worry was that the party would do something unexpected and I wouldn’t be able to keep up. In reality I made it possible to derail the plot by having one in the first place!
Hi Mouse! What do I win? 🙂
For what it’s worth, plenty of experienced players make the same mistake all the time: “the DM wouldn’t put these guys here if we weren’t supposed to kill them”. (It’s actually a pretty interesting topic for the D&D Blogosphere–hint, hint ChattyDM–how do you show “badassery” without giving away meta-game information?)
A blog post called “Situations not Plots” @ Ars Ludi helped me immensely with avoiding exactly the kind of thing you ran into. Almost an identical situation, actually. 🙂
Here’s the link:
http://arsludi.lamemage.com/index.php/49/situations-not-plots/
I really like the suggestion of a mole in the enemy party who turns on them at just the opportune moment. If you can just preserve an illusion that you may have planned it all along, it’ll be great.
Has anybody got an idea for how to turn the player’s reaction to the zombie trees from “Hmm, I’m digging deeper and deeper into a mystery here, I’m about to figure something out” to “Run!“
Great discussion everyone.
@Cr0m: A post in player assumption of what the DM would or would not do is indeed a great idea. Sent it on the ideas pile for further percolating.
@Noumenon: Have the danger rip some fairly significant NPCs to shreds in front of the PCs.
Or more importantly, ask yourself ‘why do they have to run here?'” and make the danger that forces running away painfully oblivious. Lava flowing down a corridor usually works.
If you’re asking me “How can I force my player to fear my NPCs?” I’d say you can’t. You can attempt to scare your players but you can’t force players to have PCs act scared. If you think so, we’ll need to have a long discussion with a few beers. This is a perfect “show don’t tell’ example.
There weren’t any NPCs by the zombie trees. I guess the easiest way to give the PC the message to run would be just to have the trees come to life verrry slowly. But I bet the ideal DM would change the trees to have a secret worth investigating by yourself, or maybe change it to a “trap you within till someone hears your knocking” trap.
@Noumenon – I thought that I gave her plenty of clues, describing the personified features of the trees in painstaking detail. Even if she thought they were treants, or some such thing, why would she want to provoke an attack by poking them with her blade? These were fairly low level characters (45h-5th level, as I recall) and all the other players realized the peril of her actions, but couldn’t intervene because they had left her location. At some point you just have to say, “let the chips fall where they may.” The player has to be able to determine her character’s actions, even if they end up being suicidal. Also, since it was a tournament dungeon, it had to be run as written, on-the-fly revision is not permitted.
The ghouls were meant to cut off escape for the adventurers, once they had entered the chapel, and to act as ambushers. They turned out to be very effective in that regard. They weren’t put there to guard a hidden treasure.
Without a doubt, I get into the most trouble as a DM whenever I try to herd the players in *any* direction. They’ve got a bad habit of viewing an obviously superior foe as a dare!
Caveat: I’m not an experienced DM, but I play one on the internet.
First of all, how does making no noise convince people to leave? That sounds to me more like a way to lead people into an ambush.
Anyway, what I see as a common element in both the high-level bandits and the polymorphed ghouls is what they call on The Simpsons “a case of the s’posedtas.” The PCs weren’t “s’posedta” confront the higher-level enemies. The ghouls were “s’posedta” cut off escape and act as ambushers. The other PCs weren’t “s’posedta” come back and warn the straggler. If some part of a plot or premise or trap can be described using the phrases “supposed to” or “meant to,” that should be the biggest, brightest flag around. The next thing a DM should ask himself upon encountering a s’posedta is “Suppose they don’t?” (My main experience with this was a group of villains who were s’posedta be tough and recurring, but who were vaped by the mage who was s’posedta be casting level-appropriate spells, but had picked up a fireball scroll.)
I agree that violent reactions and deadly outcomes don’t always have to be the norm. I strongly disagree about knocking out or capturing PCs, as that’s generally more punishing (by way of being frustrating and boring) than people playing a friendly game deserve. It’s also a cliche in RPGs and the media they’re based on. If the PCs insist on fighting something they can’t beat, or continuing to fight something that for whatever reason has them dead to rights, there are usually plenty of perfectly rational and interesting ways for the bad guys to fall short. In the case of the high-level bandits, I thought immediately of having the bandits simply vanish, ninja-like from the cabin. They’ve got a high-level magic user who (under that system) could have numerous options to avoid a fight. That was my first thought.
Second thought was related to another question I read about on the internet: a dragon got lucky and its breath recharged frequently during a battle. One more breath and PCs would start to fall, probably leading to a TPK. I suggested that the dragon ready in an obvious manner to use its breath and then… talk. Explain to the PCs that the fight could continue, or they could drop their weapons, and listen to a job he has for them. The players would then have the choice to continue and the information (about the recharge of the dragon’s breath) to make an informed choice.
This approach could, I think be used in the situation described above. The PCs knock down the door and are ambushed, but find the enemy with readied actions. The fact that the enemy heard them coming and was ready for them should tip the PCs to the power of the NPCs, but I don’t think it’s metagaming to tell them when they’re face-to-face with their opponents how tough those opponents appear. The air warps and crackles around the magic-user (perhaps with a powerful spell the PCs recognize); the big, well-muscled fighters are very well armed and armored, with stances that belie their agility, speed, and strength; the rogues are simply nowhere to be seen, even in this small, well-lit room and perhaps they are the ones to address the PCs, explaining that there doesn’t need to be a fight and that they can all help each other out. Maybe there’s someone else the NPCs are more scared of than the PCs, and the PCs can help deal with that threat. Maybe there’s been a misunderstanding. Maybe this has all been a test (entering cliche territory, but what the heck, at least it’s not boring.) Basically, if fighting is the only “realistic” thing the NPCs would do, the DM should feel free to change or create certain details so that it’s realistic for them /not/ to want to fight. Such details can be created ahead of time and simply discarded if the players do what they’re s’posedta.
(Incidentally, along with the description of the enemy, I really don’t think it’s metagaming or too destructive to immersion to roughly – or even precisely – outline what the defense numbers of the enemies are. Most people can look at a target and see how hard it’s going to be to hit, and even slightly experienced fighters can (at least in fiction) tell how well-trained and generally tough his opponent is. If mental defenses are involved, it’s reasonable to expect that those who attack such defenses have the means of probing or otherwise sensing them.)
In the case of the ghoul-trees, well that’s a good advertisement for /not/ running constrained adventures like that. I don’t know exactly how the module was written, but if it’s just that the ghouls attack when disrupted or poked then perhaps the idea of “attack” can be looked at. Maybe they’re slow at first, teasing and taunting their victim, plucking at her hair and clothes, whispering threats, wallowing in her increasing fear. Maybe only one attacks at first. Maybe they all attack, but are not at full strength and are easily repelled; she either runs as they get stronger, or they run when her allies hear the combat, only to return later. Yeah, the PCs will know about the threat now, but that’s their reward for the PC’s inquisitiveness.
I’m sure there are written reasons why some of that can’t occur. The writer had in mind how the monsters were “s’posedta” interact with the PCs, failing to take into accout other approaches. That’s unfortunate. All I can advise is to stretch the instructions in the module as far as they can go. I doubt the module specifically forbids the ghouls from cackling loud enough to attract the other PCs. I doubt it requires them not to savor their victory and torture the paralyzed victim long enough for the others to notice her absence and return for her.
Which leads me to another thought. The other players knew what was going on, and not one of them could come up with an in-character reason to go back to get the missing PC? Sounds like iffy teamwork to me, and a missed opportunity for that classic horror trope of the would-be victim’s friend coming back just in time to keep her from doing something dumb. It’s a roleplaying game, so the other PC can still play as if he doesn’t know what the trees are and doesn’t care, but just wants to keep the party together in a dangerous area. This puts the choice back on the PCs, and keeps the situation from relying on DM description that’s “s’posedta” be enough warning. The PC is still welcome to poke at the trees, but it’s her choice and now maybe there’s at least one other PC close enough to extricate her.
This went long, and I’m probably off the mark. Maybe I should just write my own blog….
Paul: Just make sure you’re writing somewhere. That was great.
This problem seems pretty simple:
(1) The GM wanted to give the PCs script immunity.
(2) His only method for giving them script immunity was to cross his fingers and hope the dice didn’t kill them.
There are quite a few ways to mitigate the risk of the dice (not designing a TPK encounter for a group of newbies is the obvious first step that this GM apparently missed), but mitigating the problem doesn’t actually make the problem go away.
There are only two solutions:
(1) Don’t give the PCs script immunity. (This may or may not be a good idea, depending on the group in question. But I think the premise that “newbies shouldn’t suffer a TPK” is a weak one. It’s like saying that a newbie Chess player should never be allowed to lose their first game; or saying that a newbie to Arkham Horror should always win the game. The assumption that “if they lose, they’ll never want to play again” doesn’t seem to be true for other games; so why should it be true for RPGs?)
(2) Implement a robust mechanism for script immunity. And, preferably, establish it upfront. “Sands of Time”-style rewind buttons can be useful for newbie groups who are learning (since they can now immediately apply the lessons from their mistakes to the exact same scenario). Or give everybody a “He’s Not Dead Jim” card that they can play at any time to have their character suffer merely unconsciousness (or some other miraculous mistake) instead of death can work. On a limited scale, have their employer cast contingency recovery spells on them for this newbie scenario (so that if they’re seriously injured, they’ll get teleported to the nearest church for raising).
If it was my game, the solution would be simple: What happens next? And can I make it interesting?
(A TPK, by the way, can still be interesting.)
.-= Justin Alexander´s last blog ..The Faceless Rage =-.
I totally agree that there’s something that can be said about hindsight, and it’s very hard behind the screen to make those snap decisions and then realise later that it could have been fun to just “go with that”.
You not only need to improvise sometimes, you need to give yourself permission to improvise.
And that sometimes means abandoning your plot, or at the very least permitting it to make a right turn.
I have run into plot dead ends myself, and it’s not very difficult to get it back on track, though that may be the writer in me.
And if the plot is constantly getting derailed (not that that was happening here) then maybe it’s time for some out of game railroading. “Look, if you want to take part in the War of Destruction on the side of the Army of Light, you need to stop killing the captain NPCs!”
.-= Katana Geldar´s last blog ..Calling your attacks =-.
20-20 hindsight is an excellent thing, and from here we can see that the GM may have set his players up for failure, but it’s a much more difficult thing to see it before it happens. Regardless, there must be a price for failure.
When you can’t pay the logical price (due to either the aforementioned time constraints, or the “I don’t want to TPK a bunch of newbies” constraint), then you’ve got to punt your way out of it.
Even though I wrote about avoiding the retcon, this is one situation where it might be a Good Thing to roll back time and get the point across. After all, is everyone on the same page? Does the party really understand what they’re doing, or did the GM somehow fail to get that point across?
PS: Love the discussion here. Very polite and welcoming.
.-= Telas´s last blog ..Gnome Rodeo: 2010 is Blowing up with GMing Links =-.
Thanks for chiming in Telas (and everyone so far) and thanks for sharing the excellent Gnome Stew links (BTW I love on topic links).
I think people make a point here to remain polite and have cool discussions. It’s the one thing I love the most about the blog after 2 1/2 years… I’m even surprised how I managed to avoid trolls in so long. (Not that I’m complaining).