Friday, December 15, 2017

"Games Orcs Play" or "Real Fantasy Sports"

The crowd was big, with pennants waving and jeers being exchanged between the stands. The net riffled in the breeze, and cheers roared as the teams took the field. Halgar Grimscar, his face split from crown to chin by an ugly reminder of his time as a warrior, threw his hands up and roared back at the spectators. His Maulers gathered round, and then all butted heads before they took their places.

The roar faded, as Grimscar raised the claxon over his head. The ball was wrapped in bearskin, and weighted with lead to make throwing it harder, and catching it deadly if your grip slipped. Grimscar smiled, and let fly. The game had begun.

Look, I'm telling you their streak's not stopping, but if you wanna throw your gold away, bet against 'em.

What Sports Exist In Your Fantasy World?


Designing a fantasy setting takes a lot of work. You have to make a map, divide up the countries, figure out which races live where, what the languages are, create heraldry for the nobility, concoct laws, and put together a dozen different religions. It's a huge undertaking making a sandbox for players to romp around having adventures in. Every now and again, though, parts of a setting can feel samey. You know, how little towns, villages, and lay-by places all end up feeling identical to one another? After all, they're not the meat of the game, so we just sort of leave them be. There's an inn or two, some farms, maybe some fishing, and a festival or two every year.

But what do these NPCs do for entertainment?

Sure, there's meeting down at the pub for drinking contests, or a game of dice, but we don't usually think about the games that are unique to a setting or culture outside of sessions where there's a big, annual festival going on. We also don't think about what those games might teach us about a culture. So, before you start another campaign, ask what sorts of fantasy sports exist in this world, who plays them, and whether that sort of profession might give rise to an adventurer.

Especially one with a flashy stage persona.
The sport described in the introduction, known by names like Catch and Fire or Siegebreaker, is just an orc version of the game Hooverball (something played by President Hoover that was kind of like volleyball, if you played it with a 20 pound medicine ball, because we elect maniacs to our high offices in America). The game requires strength, speed, power, coordination, and it requires endurance to outlast the other side. Things orcs tend to excel at due to their natural advantages, though the game could just as easily be played by humans, dwarves, etc. There might even be rivalries, or the potential for territorial disputes to be settled with a match instead of bloodshed. Or there may be harsh penalties for the losing team, if you want to add a bloodthirsty edge to the culture that gave rise to this game.

What other games can you think of? Is there a kind of wizard's tag played by evokers, who use harmless (or at least non-lethal) spells to dye members of the other team colors to declare victory? Could this game be played by non-spellcasters who use wands to mimic the effects, adding drama by giving them a limited number of shots? Do nations who tame flying beasts have aerial races that showcase maneuverability in three dimensions? Did giants, famous for their rock-throwing ability, create their own version of baseball? Or golf?

There are all kinds of roads you could go down, but the easiest way to make a fantasy sport is to take a sport that already exists (chariot racing, say), and then to add in fantasy elements. Perhaps there is a race where unusual mounts are allowed to participate, which leads to one chariot being pulled by a team of nightmares, and another by hulking hellhounds. Or perhaps you add a Death Race challenge to it, and the charioteers have on-boards weapons, in addition to hazards on the track that could injure or kill a racer.

Sports might be local, national, or anywhere in between. However, adding a few sports into a nation's makeup can tell you things about that society, and it can create touch stones for character building and campaign arcs. For example, if the barbarian was a Dog Skull runner until fifth level, then fans of the sport might recognize him even though he's retired. That could open a lot of doors, since he's not a stranger to those who know his team, or who saw him pull out a big win. It could also provide a non-lethal form of conflict resolution where the whole party gets to participate, rather than one or two people having a duel to settle a dispute. Or, at the very least, it can give a character a hobby that helps define them. Because Denari Cleareyes might be off on another continent chasing down arcane secrets, but she brought her crystal ball because she is not going to miss the big game between the Rough Housers and the Anvil Crackers. It's been brewing all year, and she just knows her boys are going to be the champs.

That's all for this week's Fluff topic. Hopefully it stirred some ideas! If you'd like even more gaming-related content from me, check out my Gamers archive, and head over to Dungeon Keeper Radio where I and several other folks put together skits on DM and player advice, world building, and humor for the world of Evora. If you'd like to stay up-to-date on all my releases, then follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. Lastly, if you want to help support Improved Initiative (I'm still hurting after the recent debacle that Patreon decided to undo), head over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to pledge a donation. All it takes is $1 a month to make a difference, and to get yourself some sweet gaming swag as a thank you!

Tuesday, December 12, 2017

What Are Your Victory Conditions?

When you sit in the DM chair there are all kinds of problems that you have to deal with. You've got to decide how many orc raiders is too many to throw at a second level party, you have to balance the machinations of the scheming duke and his secret necromantic rituals, and you need to make sure the swag you're giving to your players won't be enough for them to just one-shot every threat they come across. You need to maintain the lives of the NPCs in town, you have to check your players' math, and a thousand other little things.

However, if you notice that your encounters are starting to feel a bit samey, there's one thing you should try; alter your victory conditions.

Ummm... they're running away... did we win?

What Are Your Victory Conditions?


The party comes upon a dark ritual, and they know if the cultists are allowed to complete it, that it will release a powerful fiend whose been bound for millennia. However, before you ask them to roll initiative, it's important to make sure you've made it clear what the goal is. Is it to stop the ritual from happening? Is it to slay the leader, whose bloodline is required to turn the key in the fiend's lock? Is it to free the sacrifices? To destroy the tome where the ritual is recorded? Or is it to just crash in and keep hitting things until there are no more things left to hit?

As I mentioned back in 3 Ways To Spice Up Combat in RPGs, one of the biggest reasons players get bored with what should be some of the most exciting parts of the campaign is that it turns into a game of burly bastard back and forth. You run up to the bad guy and start kicking their shins, they kick your shins on their turn, and you continue kicking until someone falls over.

Even if you started the fight with some really big boots (in the form of a big magic sword, or tricked-out metamagic spell), that's going to get boring if it's the only thing you do.

Shamblers? Sigh... right, called shot to the head...
One way to avoid this shin-kicking is to give your players a different set of victory conditions other than, "kill everything in the room, and loot the bodies."

What should those victory conditions be? Well, that depends entirely on your game, your players, and what they're trying to accomplish. For example, are they escorting a diplomat? If that's the case then they'd likely want to avoid fighting bandits, wandering monsters, etc. This could turn fights into running battles, allowing things like stage coach chases, or attempts to foil assassination at important events. That would allow the meat shields to stand by in sunglasses checking IDs for people who want to meet their charge like a pair of medieval bouncers, but it would also give the characters with detect poison an important role in making sure none of the canapes are deadly. The socialites could run interference, looking for people who are suspicious in the crowd, and trying to detect threats before they're found, etc., etc.

It isn't about killing all the bad guys. It's about ensuring your charge lives through the evening.

There are dozens of scenarios you could use. A siege isn't about how many of the enemy you kill; it's about how few of them you allow inside. If you can rescue the hostages without a single weapon being drawn by sneaking inside, well, you still got them out safely. If you are in prison, then the key is escaping, not killing a whole bunch of guards. If there is a reason the town is being raided by a band of orcs, find out if you can resolve the situation through a means other than slaying the whole tribe. Who knows, a peace treaty for mutual protection might be a possibility.

Change the victory conditions, and you'll get your players out of the same old rut they've been stuck in. Guaranteed.

That's all for this week's Moon Pope Monday, even though it's going up on a Tuesday. For more unique gaming content from yours truly, check out my Gamers archive, or take a listen to Dungeon Keeper Radio to hear our skits, DM advice, and world building. If you want to stay up-to-date on all my latest releases, then follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. Lastly, if you want to support Improved Initiative, head over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page and leave a little love in my cup. All it takes is $1 a month to get some sweet swag from yours truly as a thank you.

Friday, December 8, 2017

3 Tips For Boosting Your Caster Level in Pathfinder

If you're a spellcaster in Pathfinder, you have two concerns. The first is the save DC of your spells, and the second is your caster level. While I talked about the former concern forever ago in my post How To Increase Spell DCs in Pathfinder, I realized I hadn't talked about the second. So I figured that today was a good day to address that one for folks who want to really flex their magical might.

1d6 per caster level, you say? Oh, you'd better make this save, son.
So, to begin at the beginning...

Your Caster Level (And Why It Matters)


A lot of us already know this one, but I'm not making any assumptions. So, to put it simply, your caster level is the number of levels of a particular casting class you have. So, if you're a third-level wizard, then all of your spells are cast as if you're a third-level caster. Ditto if you're a third-level cleric. However, if you have four rogue levels, and two wizard levels, then you still cast your spells as a second-level caster. This is why, most of the time, spellcasters don't multiclass; taking a hit to your caster level often isn't worth it.

Why is that, you might ask?

Well, because your caster level often determines how potent your spells are when you cast them. If you cast shocking grasp, for instance, you deal 1d6 of damage per caster level (with a max of five). So, while two characters might cast the same spell, the one who went straight sorcerer is throwing five damage dice, while the character who dipped is only throwing two. And the higher that cap gets, with spells like fireball or lightning bolt, the more important your caster level becomes.

This applies to spells that don't deal straight hit point damage, too. For example, if you cast buff spells like bull's strength, or defensive spells like shield, then those spells' duration depends on your caster level. The higher your caster level, the longer those spells endure. If you're attempting to use dispel magic, then you're pitting your caster level against the strength of the spell you're trying to dispel. And, if you're attempting to get through a target's spell resistance, then you're making a caster level check.

Long story short, your caster level is where a lot of your mystical muscle comes from.

Tip #1: Feats and Traits


Feats and traits are available to all characters, and there are several to choose from. However, many of them will only increase your caster level on a single spell, so it's important to choose one you think you're going to be using regularly. If you're a de-buffer, then dispel magic is a good candidate, but if you're an area-of-effect specialist you might want to choose fireball. Or, if you're going to be raising a lot of dead folks, then animate dead would allow you to bring back (and control) more skeletons, zombies, etc.

With that said, here are some options to keep in mind.

- Gifted Adept (trait): Pick one spell, and it manifests at +1 caster level.
- Magical Knack (trait): This increases your caster level by +2, but only up to your character level. Ideal for those who are going to multiclass, but want to soften the blow.
- Varisian Tattoo (feat): Increase your caster level by +1 for all spells of a particular school. This requires you to take Spell Focus, and you have to have the same school for both feats.
- Spell Specialization (feat): Select one spell from a school for which you've taken Spell Focus. Treat your caster level as +2 for all numerical aspects of that spell which depend on your caster level. So, this won't help you overcome spell resistance, but damage dice, duration, etc. are all affected. You can change this spell every even level.
- Bloatmage Initiate (feat): Cast spells from the school you selected Spell Focus in at +1 caster level. You also grow bloated, and act under a medium load, which can make mobility difficult.

Tip #2: Classes


While sorcerers have a more limited selection of spells, their bloodlines can often make them quite powerful. As evidenced by some of the bloodline options that increase your caster level for certain schools of magic. The aquatic bloodline, for example, increases your caster level by +1 for any spell of the water subtype you cast. The daemon bloodline grants you an effective bonus to your caster level the round after your cast a spell that killed a creature with an Intelligence of at least 3 (up to half your Charisma modifier in kills). The sanguine bloodline (technically an archetype) increases your effective caster level for all necromancy spells by +1.

In addition to the sorcerer, there's the arcanist. You can expend points from your pool to boost your caster level, and if you take Potent Magic as an exploit you can boost your caster level by +2 instead of by +1. A big difference, if stacked with other bonuses.

These boosts can only be used with very specific character concepts, but if you need a little extra oomph, then a bloodline arcana can make that happen.

Tip #3: Items


There aren't many items that increase your caster level, but there are a few worth noting. The big ticket item (about 30k gold) is the orange prism ioun stone. This increases your caster level by +1, but if you go cheap and get a flawed one it also imposes a -2 penalty on your primary casting stat. So there's some give and take, there.

Also, if you get desperate, there's always the drug mumia. This will increase your caster level by +1 on all spells for an hour, but there's a chance that use will turn you into a ghoul. It also deals 1d2 Wisdom damage. More on mumia and other substances in The Best Drugs in Pathfinder.

Intensified Spell


If you're boosting your caster level in order to do more damage with evocation spells, then you should also consider using Intensified Spell. This metamagic feat increases the damage dice of a spell by +5, which is useful if you max out early, but want to keep slinging big dice around for spells like shocking grasp or fireball.

EDIT: Bonus boost, pointed out by Will Brewer in a Facebook comment. If you're playing a dhampir, wizard, you can use your favored class bonus to add +1/4 to your caster level for spells from the necromancy school.

That's all for this week's Crunch topic. Are there any solid methods for increasing caster level that I missed? If so, put them in the comments below! For more of my gaming content, check out my Gamers archive, or head over to Dungeon Keeper Radio where I and some fellow gamers offer advice, skits, and lore on the world of Evora. If you'd like to keep up on all my latest releases, then follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. Lastly, if you want to help support Improved Initiative (since tis the season), head over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to toss some love in my tip jar. As little as $1 a month can make a big difference, 

Monday, December 4, 2017

Raise Your Dice Cup, and Remember Wyatt Ferris

Gaming is how we build a community. It's something we use to break the ice, it's often how we meet new friends. For some of us, it's what helped us meet our partners. When we hear a fellow gamer has passed away, even if we never shared a table with them, there's a part of us that feels it. A sadness that, somewhere, there's someone whose stories will never be told again. Whose dice have finally stilled.

Wyatt Ferris was such a gamer.

We who are about to roll, salute you!
Wyatt was a lot like us in many respects. He'd been a player and a DM, and he was a regular around several tables. He'd been a paladin, a bodyguard, a hellknight, a swashbuckler, and a dozen other characters in his time. He told stories, and he was a part of many more. Earlier this year, though, he took his own life after suffering a traumatic brain injury. He was only 17 years old at the time.

There were many stories ahead for this young man, and though he may no longer be with us to tell them himself, that's no reason we can't keep his memory alive by doing the telling for him.

Wyatt's mother originally posted on the Facebook page DM Scotty's Crafts n' Games, and asked something of us as gamers. In short, she asked us to create a memorial for Wyatt by making him an NPC in our games. A small favor to ask, and something that we could all do with relative ease. Even if we don't post our stories about what Wyatt did in our worlds, word will get round about Wyatt's adventures. He'll become a legend in his own right, and in time, he may be a tradition at the tables of the next generation of gamers.

The response to this request has already been pretty big, with Fat Goblin Games even releasing a stock art for Wyatt for publisher use. However, I wanted to do my part to boost the signal, and urge everyone who stops by my page to consider the request to make Wyatt an NPC in your game.

So, before you come across the hash tags #Play4Wyatt and #WyattNPC again, think about where you could fit Wyatt into your game. The apprentice in the swordmaster's academy? The young hireling who helped you save the town from ogres? The pilot on the right flank of the squadron who helped you fight off those space pirates? Even if he's not on center stage, leave a tribute to Wyatt in your campaign. And raise a glass before you roll initiative.

That's all for this week's Moon Pope Monday update. If you've got Wyatt stories to share, feel free to leave them in the comments below! For more gaming content from yours truly, check out my Gamers archive, or head over to Dungeon Keeper Radio to take a listen to the shows I put together with some fellow gamers to breathe life into the world of Evora. To stay up to date on all my latest releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter, and if you want to help support Improved Initiative head over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page. All it takes is $1 a month to make a big difference, and get some gaming swag as a thank you.

Saturday, December 2, 2017

The Tale of Adolph The Red-Eyed Reindeer

Have you ever had a DM who always planned sweeping, epic campaigns, then after a few sessions lost all his notes? But, conveniently, he had this whole other idea brewing, and if we wanted to make new characters for it, we could start that game instead? Yeah, that was a DM I had for a while. While my group was pretty easy going (we were mostly just happy to play), there came a point where we were losing both patience and enthusiasm for Rob's constant switching from one game to another. So when he came to us with this cool idea he'd had for a post-apocalyptic game using the D20 Modern expansion, and swore that it was going to be a big, continual, level 1 to 20 campaign focused on a single group of heroes, we weren't biting.

Until he mentioned we were all playing children, who would grow into the wasteland's next generation of legends. That got our attention.

So, enthusiastic but wary, we set off on an adventure unlike any we'd had before. It was a game so poorly-run, badly thought out, and comically ridiculous that after the first session, Rob didn't just lose his notes. He threw them out intentionally.

So what does this have to do with a red-eyed reindeer?

The Crew


Faced with the prospect of a serious, long-running game where our PCs had to match wits with an apocalyptic landscape, we decided to go all-out.

The first member of the crew was the youngest at 12 years old. Maggie, alias Magpie, was a fast hero with a penchant for shiny objects. Her parents ran the local scrap yard, and she fancied herself something of an inventor. The only problem was that nine out of ten times her inventions either caught fire, didn't work, or fell apart. So, while a little scatterbrained, she knew her way around the wastes. That, and she carried a sawed-off double barreled shotgun with exactly two rounds. Just in case something big tried to eat her.

The second member of the gang was Ark. A half-feral child, Ark and his parents were taken by mutants who raided the town years ago. While Ark's parents were never seen again, the boy wandered back after he'd been missing for some time. Long and rangy at 14, Ark barely spoke, but he was a consummate hunter, and he knew how to survive in the savage wilds of the post-plague world. A tough hero, Ark was no one's easy meal.

Lastly there was Skrewe. His mother was the last of the divas, and her looks had not been enough to secure her prominence of position in this new, decaying world. Embittered, she'd more or less ignored her son, even going so far as to name him after the act that had foisted him on her. Skrewe spent most of his childhood around Emeril Brooks, a stolid black man who'd been a professor in the time gone by. Skrewe took quickly to crafts, as well as to chemistry, and botany. By the time he was 13, he'd left home, cleared a patch of cacti, and built a little sanctum for himself and the bizarre animals he took in. A major source of everything from aloe lotion, to purified water, to ethanol, Skrewe was an integral source of knowledge and skill as the group's smart hero.

The DM also did something that I would highly recommend not doing for anyone taking notes. He gave each of the players a chance to make up a unique ability for our characters, above and beyond the stuff you get from being a PC. Magpie gained sneak attack, Skrewe added both his Wisdom and Intelligence bonuses on Craft and Knowledge checks, and Ark... well, have you ever seen a Tarzan movie? He had what was called the 5-second kill. In that he would roll an attack, and if he hit, he could use this ability instead of dealing damage. He would roll percentiles, and if it was under a certain amount determined by the character's level (it started at 7%), then the creature would instantly be killed. He could use this once per day at level one.

This will become important later on in this story.

The Quest


Our party all lived (nominally, at least) in a small town in what was once New Mexico. Insulated by the surrounding desert, there was a ritual where people had to bring back something of value to the town in order to be considered full-fledged adults. So despite the fact that one character was the daughter of prominent community members, another was a fringe-dweller who didn't much care what everyone else thought, and the third was responsible for a huge portion of the town's functional medicine and science, we all agreed to follow this plot hook. Even though it had more holes than a wheel of Swiss cheese that had been the target of a Mafia hit.

So, eager for adventure, we set off into the badlands.

Sadly, we didn't get the appropriate war rig that Skrewe would have built, given advanced warning.
We drove for several hours, finding little of note that hadn't already been picked over or scrapped. Finally, though, we found our way to a small ghost town off an unmarked road. We pulled up to what was once a gas station, and we found there was plenty of loot still inside. Hermetically sealed first aid kits, some canned food, and a dozen different odds and ends. Not exactly conquering hero stuff, but useful, and definitely worth taking.

We were back at the pumps, with Skrewe trying to puzzle out how to check on if there is still fuel in them (and if that fuel is any good), when we all heard the sound of roaring cycles. Before we could do more than take strategic cover, a dozen men in black leather and chains, smoke belching from their fat boys, circled us. We can see they're armed, but we also notice their hollow eyes, oozing sores, and general shakiness. Their leader, one eye weeping dark blood, demanded we give them medicine for their sickness. Skrewe shouted back that they didn't have any medicine, but if they wanted the food we'd found they were welcome to it. The leader snarled that if we didn't hand over the medicine, they'd kill us all.

So, being young, stupid, and hoping for the best, Skrewe said he'd hand them the medicine if they kept their fingers off their triggers. So he mixed up a cocktail from the components in the back of the car, and, when the leader held out his hands for it, tossed the chemical mixture at him. It burst into flame as soon as it was jostled, and lit the leper war chief up like a holiday tree.

Combat was begun, and as the most visible source of betrayal, Skrewe was the target. After a few lucky misses thanks to cover, he took a crossbow bolt in the shoulder. A big deal for a first-level smart hero, but not something that instantly killed him. However, when the DM asked for a Fortitude save against the disease on that bolt, things got serious. My dice, out of spite, rolled a 19. Which was fortunate, because the DM told me as soon as I made it that the save was a DC 19 save-or-die effect.

So much for a long-term game meant to showcase character growth.

CR Isn't Always Just A Number


Whether the bolts were actually a save-or-die effect, or he'd ad-libbed that to make it feel like Skrewe had cheated death, the table was not pleased that something we had such a low chance of making was now canon. Sensing the mood, and that he had definitely overstepped the appropriate challenge, the fight was ratcheted back in deadliness. Skrewe managed to perform triage on himself from inside the car, ducked down out of sight, and was sitting pretty at 0 hit points and stable. Ark and Maggie managed to fight off the bulk of the gang, and when all was said and done, they burned what the bikers had left behind, got in, and headed back to town. They'd gotten some supplies, and been blooded in the attempt, which was enough for them.

Unfortunately, they were too far back to make it home before nightfall. And while the car had headlights, they had been shot out during the fight. So, rather than risk further accident, they pulled over in the evening, and made camp. Skrewe, one arm bandaged, dug a short trench for himself, set up a tent over it, and curled up to bitter sleep. Maggie slept in the car, and Ark stood watch, his bow in hand, staring out over the desert. As the sun set, a huge beast lumbered through the dying light. Its antlers prominent, it ambled through the scene like a metaphor for life continuing on, even after calamity.

That was where we all expected the session to end, but the DM kept staring at us as if he expected us to do something. So Ark shrugged, took aim, and fired. After all, you could never have too much game meat.

Unhurt by the arrow, this thing comes thundering into camp just in time for Skrewe and Magpie to rouse themselves to see what's happening. Maggie thumbed back the hammers on her shotgun, and Skrewe grabbed a canister of ethanol, readying an action to throw it at the charging behemoth's face. While he gets the throw, a second later the DM asks all of us to roll Will saves.

Why, you may ask? Well, for the 15-foot tall mutant reindeer's Frightful Presence.

Roll initiative, bitch!
For the second time that evening there was an uncomfortable silence sitting over the table. Then, flabbergasted, Ark's player asked, "What is Adolph the Red-Eyed Reindeer doing here?"

We roll, and pretty much all of us fail. So, we're shaken, on the verge of bolting. This thing slams its head into the side of the car, getting stuck there, with flammable fluid dripping from its face. Entangled, it's declared that it loses its Dex bonus to armor class. So Magpie takes her shot, giving it both barrels. Five or six d6 later, this thing is burning and wounded, but most of all, it's pissed.

Ark rushed in to try saving Magpie, and rolled the same number as she had on his attack. However, in the time between her turn and his, it appeared the demon moose's armor class had spontaneously gone up from 20 (already pretty high for an enemy facing a level one party) to a 24 (impossible for anyone in the party to hit, barring a natural 20). According to the narration we were given, as the fire burned away its fur, chitinous armor plating had grown up out of its skin, knitting together in heavy bone plates.

Magpie battered at it with the butt of her shotgun, and Skrewe took a shot with his crossbow, but failed between injury, panic, and being a brain-based character. Ark decided, hell with it, and rolled again. A natural 20. Instead of bothering to confirm, he activated his ability for the day. He had a seven percent chance of getting through to something vital, and instantly downing this beast.

The percentiles rolled aught five. Adolph dropped, dead as a Christmas tree after New Years.

The Aftermath


For those who don't know, a creature had to be at least a CR 8 in this system to have Frightful Presence. So we sat down, cracked the books, and tried to figure out how much XP that single middle-finger from the dice actually earned us. When all was said and done, and we'd applied all the formulas, the entire party should have gone from level 1 to level 5 after that single fight. Additionally, we had the hide of a powerful mutant creature whose chitinous plating had expressly been described as nearly impervious to close-range shotgun blasts, and to fire damage. Just as good as post-apocalypse dragon hide, as far as we were concerned.

Let is not be said that Satan's reindeer doesn't bring frightfully good presents!

Though this game had been pretty rocky up to that point, this turn of fate actually had us pretty excited. We had enough hit points we could survive a fight, we had all sorts of new abilities under our belts, and we could tackle some more serious issues. We'd even advanced far enough that our DM's propensity for throwing the PCs into the deep end with anvils tied to their feet might be exciting, instead of discouraging.

So, needless to say, he conveniently lost all his campaign notes after that. While he tried to pitch us a new game in a more traditional Dungeons and Dragons setting not long after, we'd had enough. A game that started fun, nearly resulted in the table being flipped when we'd been given impossible odds, and then actually defeating those impossible odds using the tools we'd been given was a wild ride. We were not interested in starting something new after that, so we found someone else to fill the chair for the next campaign.

That's all for this installment of Table Talk. If you've got a gaming story of your own you'd like to share, feel free to contact me with it! I love featuring my readers' stories, and giving other gamers a moment in the spotlight. If you'd like to see more gaming content from me, check out my Gamers archive. If you're interested in a podcast I've been helping out with, head over to Dungeon Keeper Radio to get advice for players, DMs, and fluff on the ever-growing world of Evora! To keep up on all my latest updates, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. Lastly, if you want to help support Improved Initiative, then stop by The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to toss a little love my way. All it takes is a $1 a month pledge to make a difference, and you'll get some sweet gaming swag while you're at it.

Monday, November 27, 2017

So... I Just Found Out About Nerdarchy!

People often ask me what blogs I follow, what sites I check out, and what podcasts I listen to as both a gamer, and as a designer/blogger/writer. And while I like to share the work of fellow writers like Simon Peter Munoz's Creative Repository Blog, and Clinton Boomer's That Boomer Kid on Tumblr, I'll be real with you. I live in a basement, and pretty much toil away in the dark, only sticking my head out into the wider world on occasion. The only time I really become aware of new stuff in the gaming sphere, even popular stuff, is when someone taps me on the shoulder and points it out.

And, sometimes, I'm fortunate enough that those who make the really popular stuff are the ones doing the tapping. Which is what happened on November 15 when Nerdarchy put up an episode about the worst ways to play a character in DND, inspired by my post The 5 RPG Characters We Should All Stop Playing.

Seriously, I about fell over when I got tagged on Twitter for this video.



Why I Think You Should Check Out Nerdarchy


Now, I might live under a rock, but just by taking a look at content quality, number of hits, and following, and the reactions from other folks on my friends list, I'm pretty sure most folks out there are aware of Nerdarchy, and the great work they do. However, I also know that at least some folks who stop by my blog are even less aware of the world than I am, so I'm sharing for that audience.

The short version, for folks who are just now finding out about this well-traveled corner of the gaming world, is that Nerdarchy is a website, and a YouTube channel, where three fellows named Nate, Dave, and Ted share their thoughts, views, advice, and the latest gaming news with their audience. They upload regularly on both their site and their YouTube channel, and you can catch their latest news over on the Nerdarchy Facebook page. It will take you a while to get through their existing content, but let me tell you, there are worse problems you could have as a gamer.

So, for all those who are interested, the Nerdarchy crew is definitely a source I would recommend for thoughts, opinions, and news about what's going on in the world of gaming. Now that you and I both know they're around, that is.

The tag line says it all, really.
That's all for this week's Moon Pope Monday update. If you're already a fan of Nerdarchy, then help me big-up their signal. And if you're not a fan yet, go check them out! Also, if you're looking for more gaming content from yours truly, check out my Gamers archive, or stop in and take a listen on the Dungeon Keeper Radio YouTube channel where I work with some talented fellow gamers to bring the world of Evora to life. Lastly, if you want to stay on top of all my updates, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, or Twitter, and if you want to support Improved Initiative head over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page. All it takes is $1 a month to make a big difference, and to get some sweet gaming swag as a thank you!

Saturday, November 25, 2017

The Big Name

The inn was full of hushed tension. The brigands had kicked down the front door, and spread around the room. Their leader, a huge man with black snake brands along his muscular arms, surveyed the room. Only one man remained calm. He was seated at a table in the center of the room, a mug of ale in one hand. His eyes were half-closed, like a lazy cat sunning itself on a windowsill.

"And who are you, sitting pretty when the Bloody Banners come to call?" the leader growled, advancing on the man.

The man sipped his drink, and set his mug on the tabletop. He brought his free hand out from beneath the table, and set a coil of silk rope next to it.

"They call me the Hangman," he said. His voice echoed in the sudden stillness, and every set of eyes above its red mask went wide. "There's a big, strong tree out front. No reason it should grow such early, ugly fruit... is there?"

Together or separate, it makes no difference to me.

The Power of a Big Name


A lot of the time, when someone has a big reputation, they have the goods to back it up. The last ten men who've pulled steel on Duncan Greenwell were all dead in seconds, their throats sliced clean through. Folks step small around Allie Mae Arenwell, as the swamp witch's enemies all seem to die under mysterious circumstances. And Cranken "Bulger" Hatworth may be old, but that right hook can send a man to the floor in a single swing.

Other times, though, it's all an illusion. Maybe the guy got lucky, and played it off like that once-in-a-lifetime shot the whole town saw was something he did all the time. Perhaps he's built up his reputation by stoking the rumor mill, talking himself up while in disguise, or paying storytellers to follow the "official" version of his deeds. It's even possible that it all started as a joke, but now it's spiraled out of control.

If you've ever heard Bert Kreischer's story about how he earned a reputation as The Machine with the Russian mob while he was just a college kid who drank too much vodka, well, that's sort of what we're talking about. If you haven't seen that, seriously, check it out. The inspiration there is rich, and deep.



Building A Big Name


A Big Name is going to be a character who can, at least, talk a good game. As such, they tend to have pretty high Charisma scores. A social trait like Signature Moves, which gives you a masterwork piece of equipment unique to you that grants a +1 bonus on Bluff and Intimidate while it's wielded, is a good place to start. Feats like the Dazzling Display tree, which allow you to Intimidate large groups of enemies (and eventually leave them flat-footed, or make them cowed into submission) are a solid follow-up. Even utilizing Disguise or Diplomacy to seed rumors of what you did, or Bluff to outright lie, can bolster your legend.

But what's the point of the Big Name? Well, to turn that reputation into a blunt instrument, of course.

Ever seen Road to Perdition? There's a particular scene where our main character, a feared enforcer, walks up on a speakeasy. The doorman is cracking his knuckles, and playing the tough guy, until he our lead tells him who he is. As soon as the muscle hears the name Mike Sullivan, he immediately slumps his shoulders, and becomes a non-threatening, ingratiating helper. That's the sort of thing you do with a Big Name. The idea behind their name is deterrence, and to make intelligent creatures take their hands off their hilts and walk away, rather than risk finding out if the legends are true.

And when combat starts, they use Intimidate to cow their enemies. Because even if the other members of the party have more muscle, or more magic, it's the Big Name the bad guys will talk about when they run. Which will, of course, only make that name slightly bigger.

That's all for this installment of Unusual Character Concepts. Hope it got the gears turning for some folks out there. If you're interested in even more gaming content from yours truly, check out my Gamers archive, or take a listen to Dungeon Keeper Radio where I and fellow gamers bring the world of Evora to life. If you want to keep up-to-date on all my releases, then follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. Lastly, if you want to help support Improved Initiative, consider heading over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a patron. All it takes is $1 a month to make a big difference, and to get some sweet gaming swag.