Motivation Part 1

Player vs character

Are you always wanting to play an RPG? I’m not. I mean, I like them, I write about them, I talk about them and post about them on social media, but do I always want to play them? No, of course not. Sometimes I’d prefer to be cooking, or walking or reading. Sometimes I’d rather be doing literally anything else.

So, how do we ever end up getting everybody to the table all at the same time? When at least one of the players in your group who isn’t busy or sick or traveling is probably just not feeling it that night? Oof…

And when you do get them all there to your table and you have this great idea for an adventure, a couple of hooks to get the PCs to take interest and some of the smartest, most memorable NPCs they are ever likely to meet in store for them, how do you make sure that they take the bait and go the way you are hoping they will? How do you ensure that the motivations of the PCs align with the goals of the adventure?

OK, so these are two different problems, really. The first suggests that the players may not want to be playing at all, and the second suggests that they want to play, they just can’t see their characters doing what you hoped they would. Still, we are going to discuss both because that is the central conceit of this short series of posts.

Player motivation

Open door

This is so tricky that, I am tempted to say, don’t try to tackle it at all. I mean, if you don’t want to be at a party and someone drags you along to it anyway, there are only two potential outcomes, really. Either you do that thing that your mum always said, i.e. enjoy it once you get there, or you will have a terrible time, confirm your own biases and bring down the average vibe score of the entire occasion just enough that you feel even worse about it and leave early.

An RPG session is not likely to be this drastic. In most cases, if you are not feeling it, you probably just don’t contribute as much as usual. Of course, the other players will notice this and maybe try to draw you into it a bit more or make more allowances for you than you really want. After all, you are probably happy being a bit quieter that day.

This is one of the reasons I appreciate one of the Open Hearth community’s policies. The Open Door policy says that you can drop out at any time from any session without the need to explain or excuse yourself. They only ask that you let the game facilitator know that you won’t be there or, if it’s mid-session, that you won’t be coming back. I think this policy is more to account for unforeseen life shit but it works equally well for those who are just not feeling it that day. And let’s be clear, mental health has to be a priority too. Some of us struggle with mental health issues of all stripes and on days where those issues flare up or are particularly serious, you have to take care of yourself first. I, myself, have struggled more with physical ailments a lot, in the last couple of years post-Covid and I have had to take advantage of the Open Door more than once, and was always grateful when, upon my return, that no-one had any blame to dish out for my not being there or any guilt to trip me with.

I guess, what this comes down to for me is, if you are not feeling it on a particular day, don’t do it! Go do the thing you really want to do instead or just curl up in the foetal position on the couch with a steady stream of rom-coms and popcorn being fed intravenously into you. You don’t need to make any excuses. You don’t even have to provide an explanation. In fact, I don’t think you should. After all, it’s just a game. We should all treat it as such.

Hype

All of that being said, I don’t think it’s impossible to hype people up to play the next session of a game. We do this in lots of ways, don’t we? In our Tables and Tales community we use the discord chat to chat about what happened in the last session, dissect the events, talk shit about the NPCs behind their backs, develop plans and share stupid memes and puns. I love this sort of inter-session banter. It definitely makes me excited to play the next session and, if I’m the GM, it often gives me ideas for stupid bits to introduce into the game itself, just for laughs or tears.

Homework

Our DM in An Unexpected Wedding Invitation 5E game likes to give us homework! She has asked us to do things like:

  • have a conversation with another player, in character, in DMs, that you haven’t had much interaction with yet
  • provide feedback privately to her that you wouldn’t in front of the whole group
  • discuss our theories about what is going on in the plot.

This has made the discord chat really entertaining and makes me want to get back to the table to keep going.

World-building on discord

Another GM, this time from Blades in the Dark, went above and beyond. He would not only write up a summary of the events of each session in an entertaining and enjoyable narrative style, but he would also compose entire articles from the Duskwall Observer, the city’s Newspaper of record, letting us know about the happenings in the rest of the city both in the heights of the ruling classes and the depths of the crime-ridden underworld. On top of all that, he would come up with new rumours after every session so that we had something to work with when planning with our own scores and downtime activities. Truly herculean efforts there, and they certainly made me excited to meet up with the rest of my crew every Friday evening and start inhabiting the, very much living, city that he so adroitly created under our feet.

I’m afraid this is not an area that I excel at as a GM. The most I am likely to do in between sessions is ask if people are free to come on the usual evening or share a social media post that seemed summed up a character or event from the game. There are definitely techniques I can learn from my learned GMs. Maybe I should start handing out homework too!

Tune in to the next post in a couple of days if you’re interested in character motivation within the game.

Meanwhile, is there anything you do to motivate your fellow players in between sessions or even before the first one? Let me know in the comments so I can steal your ideas!

World Building Part 2

A new approach

First of all, I struggle to get out of my old way of building a campaign world and, even a campaign. I recognised in my last post that there are definite draw-backs to it, but still, I find it hard not to do a whole bunch of preparation. I do still think that a certain amount of prep is advisable but I have been actively trying to limit the amount I do. This doesn’t work as well in some games as others. In D&D, if you don’t do a lot of prep, you might be alright but it is a real pain if you don’t have the right stats to hand when your PCs decide they are going to enter the local gladiatorial games or they want to go ankheg hunting. It slows things down a lot and hurts the overall flow of the session. But it does feel like you are pushing the plot and your PCs in a very particular direction when you do it! Is this an inherent issue with D&D? Probably not just D&D if we’re honest.

In other games, I find it can be freeing and fascinating to see how a session goes when you genuinely have no preconceptions about what is going to happen in it.

Heart

In the game of Heart I am currently running, I used a loosely written adventure that came in the Heart Quickstart Rules. We have just come to the culmination of that adventure and suddenly, the PCs are more-or-less free agents! They have done what a few NPCs have asked of them and more. They followed the breadcrumbs and now, now they are ready to take the training wheels off and head into the Heart to pursue their own dreams and nightmares. They have a couple of other leads but I am looking forwards to leaving the progress up to them from now on. I intend to largely take my hands off the wheel and, instead, rely on their own motivations to provide direction, their own relationships with NPCs to perhaps push them one way or another, even their own ideas for how the new and terrifying delves they go on might look and feel. I want to create our Heart together now that the leash is off.

Im-prompt-u

There are lots of tools out there that you can use to bring a world to life together with your players at the table. I mentioned on this blog before that we had a game of The Quiet Year by Avery Adler a while ago. In it, you get together and make a couple of establishing decisions regarding what sort of community you want to build together and what sort of genre or setting it might be in. After that, you proceed through the seasons of a year after the end of some cataclysm and before the coming of some other terror. The players use a regular deck of cards to draw on prompts from the book. Each prompt gives you an occurrence or an important decision that must be made. This way, you all draw a map together and you develop a community that includes important factions, elements of religion and social orders, abundances and scarcities, fears and loves of the populace.

I was surprised when we finished, by what a fleshed out place we had created in concert. It felt like we had the basis of a fascinating setting to start something else in. I could imagine beginning a more traditional RPG there with the same players. These players would all have had a hand in building the place, the world, its people, their relationships. And wouldn’t they be so much more invested in it?

I mentioned last time that I had made a mistake in the very beginning of the Scatterhome campaign because I had tried to play on the PCs’ devotion to their decimated homeland when they had no experience of it. They couldn’t even picture this diverse paradise island that I had in my mind. But if we had used a method like The Quiet Year to make it, we would have had the fun of playing The Quiet Year, for starters, and also, we would have a place they might have mourned as their characters.

Scale

You can go much smaller of course. In the Blades in the Dark campaign I played in recently, our GM had us use a different game called Clean Spirits to build our hideout. At the start we had to make some decisions about what sort of place it was going to be. We decided on a beached canal boat and then we worked through a series of prompts and exercises to create various parts of it. We each got to claim our own section and also collaborated to make it a place that we treasured as players and characters with its own little mushroom farm and the spirit of its former captain trapped in a bottle. Later, when we were attacked in our hideout, this made the stakes seem so much higher!

Of course, you could go even bigger instead of smaller. I know the game, Microscope, is used to create a whole history for a world that is separated into periods and events. I have no experience with it though so I don’t know how well it works.

At the table

The type of world building I like the most is the collaborative kind, I have decided. One of my players in that Scatterhome game, Tom of the Media Goblin’s Hoard blog wrote an incredible history for their character, who was a Dragonborn. Now, I had never given too much thought to the origins or current situation of Dragonborn in the setting but that was ok, because Tom had been considering it deeply. It was all couched in the back-story of their character, but it added a huge amount to the world straight away, including the fact there was an under-class of Dragonborn within the empire who were raised to be weapons at the command of their human masters, how they were raised from eggs to obey and how some escaped and went on the run. How there were bands of pirates that sometimes took on runaways like their character and how they impacted the archipelago. It was great and, although we didn’t get around to using too much of that in the game itself, the knowledge of it made a big difference to how I thought about the empire and the world as a whole.

Later in the same game, we gained some new players who decided to take their PC races from the D&D setting of Theros so we had a new island nation on our hands then, one that looked a lot like Ancient Greece and contained leonines and satyrs. Once again, their choices made that change to the world happen.

Another new character added a whole new vassal kingdom of elves to the Vitrean empire, for whom social hierarchy and feudal concerns were incredibly important. So much so that they caused a rift between his character and his siblings.

Character backstory is world-building when you leave the details of the world vague enough for players to have free rein when coming up with them. It adds to the shared world and gives them a greater feeling of ownership of it.

I personally love it, though, when someone, simply, confidently states the existence of a particular item, a specific shop or an individual NPC right there at the table. That item is going to help them get through that window, that shop sells the exact thing they are looking for or the NPC has the contact details they need. This sort of flavour is invaluable and often becomes far more than flavour. This happened in Spire a lot because you have to ask your players to make rolls to resolve situations but then leave the details up to them. They made up the dugguerrotypist, Reggie, who worked for the local tabloids and he later became an important bond to them. Same with every aspect of their casino, the Manticore, which quickly filled with important NPCs and locations that were largely player-created. It is the best feeling when these instantly generated details come into play right there and then at the table. It’s like magic.

How do you prefer to world-build, dear reader? Do you do all the work beforehand and let the players loose in it at the table? Do you build a world together first and go and play in it after? Do you let it all just happen at the table?

Forged in the Dungeon, Part 2

Engage!

This is an update on how my last session of Spelljammer went. More specifically how it went when implementing some mechanics I nicked, unapologetically from Blades in the Dark. If you don’t know what I’m updating you about, oh valued and discerning reader, go take a look at this post right here.

It was touch-and-go last night, to be honest. We only had about 2 hours to play and we were on course for the session to fully be a shopping episode. But, in the last 45 minutes or so, we managed to get into the new technique of using information gathering rolls and an engagement roll before interacting with the dungeon.

I think it worked pretty well, once we got into it. I briefly explained the concept and everyone was on board with it. So we went ahead and they started making up the ways they would use their specialties to help boost their chances with the engagement roll. One character described a trip to the pub to try and identify some locals who might know the way to this secret hideout they were looking for, one followed a potential gang member to the entrance, one questioned some dock workers they were helping out, one went to ask her sister for help and one staked out the most likely spots along the docks. They all used different skills and only one of them failed the information gathering roll. I set the Information gathering DC pretty low for this first time, a mere DC 10. I gave them +2 to the engagement roll for each success so they ended up with a +8 for a total of 18 on the engagement roll.

Now, I had prepared three maps on Roll20 and a bunch of potential encounters, both combat and social, traps and dangerous environments. I did not regret dumping two of those locations in favour of jumping straight to the dungeon entrance. Did the old dump and jump, as it were.

I narrated their discovery of and arrival at the building that hid the staircase to the hideout. I explained how the intelligence they had gotten in their information gathering phase had allowed them to figure out the best time to enter. I described the way they were warned to avoid dangers and possible traps on the stairs and then, satisfyingly, they got to the front door. And that’s where the action started.

Straight Dunjin’

I asked for some feedback on the technique at the end of the session and it was broadly positive. There was a definite consensus that, if we had simply role-played each of the scenes I described above with multiple rolls in each scene for stealth, deception, persuasion, etc, it would have taken hours and they would not have gotten anywhere near the entrance to the dungeon last night.

One player, Thomas, told me today that, because there tends to be a lot of “admin” in this campaign (ship stuff, money stuff, shopping stuff etc.) that it was refreshing to get to the action without a lot of rigmarole. I agreed that it felt good to use the precious time we have together (only 2 hours every fortnight) in as fun a way as possible. Last night, that involved sending them to an underground lair where they discovered a guy with the top of his head sawn off and a bunch of identical hobgoblins with gossamer threads attached to their necks. You know, good old fashioned fun!

We also talked about how they were able to retain a sense of having achieved this “easier” path to the entrance of Ozamata’s hideout. Since we went around the “table” and every character had input to how they wanted to help gather information and got to narrate and role-play within those short scenes, it felt earned more than given.

On the more measured side, I did get some feedback from Trevor that, although it worked well in that particular situation, it might be more difficult to apply in others. I have to agree with that assessment too. It is easy to apply this method when the PCs are aware of the exact job they have to do, when they have time to seek out information about it and to prepare in lots of different ways. It is not going to work so well when an encounter is meant to take them by surprise. Maybe that’s ok though. It’s not Blades in the Dark that we’re playing and it never will be. D&D isn’t supposed to feel like that. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t try to make it feel less like a grind and more narratively satisfying whenever possible.

I’m very well aware that, for most gamers who are used to the story-game play style, all I’m describing is maybe some half-arsed version of their regular RPG experience. Maybe it’s not even that. But I will say that, for me, it is fixing a distinct issue in a campaign that I very much want to continue playing but definitely want to speed up bit. I mean they have been playing the last day and a half on the Rock of Bral since last November… so, I want to move things along without making my players feel like I’m rushing them or demanding they do something they don’t want to. Hopefully, this technique will help to accomplish that.

Has anyone else tried something like this with any degree of success in D&D?

Forged in the Dungeon

Engage

I mentioned in my post about my ongoing Spelljammer D&D 5E campaign that I get frustrated by the vast swathes of time demanded by the system, particularly for combat. It’s so involved and requires the application of so many sub-systems, the knowledge of so many specific abilities such as spells and feats that even a small scale fight can take up the guts of an average session. Player patience is tested during the parts they are not involved in and when it does come to their turn it can be difficult for them to know the current state of play because they have, quite understandably, tuned out. So then you have to rehash the last few turns before they take their go.

Some have suggested ways around this, such as removing the roll to hit or limiting the time a player can take on their turn. I understand the impetus to use these workarounds. But one option feels too much like it’s removing a core element of the gameplay and the other is going to end up with some players rushing and resentful and others just giving up on doing anything cool and instead just hitting the thing with their sword every time.
So, what’s the answer? Sorry, good reader, I don’t claim to have one. But here’s what I am going to try:

Blades in the Dark has a mechanic that allows the crew to make a single roll before they get into the action. This is known as the engagement roll and the level of success you achieve with this roll essentially determines how far into a score the action starts. So, in a D&D context, if you roll poorly, you might have to begin the dungeon before you even find the entrance: you’re wandering the wilderness, risking random encounters and suffering exhaustion in the freezing cold while you search, relentlessly for the right damn tree stump that the tunnel is hidden under. But if you roll well? Well, then you come prepared; you knew the weather was going to turn nasty so you dressed for it, you knew it was going to be a long way so you hired some dog sleds, you bought a map from a local trapper and you read a book about the dungeon that told you how to bypass the traps in the entrance hall. In the second case, you start your delve right in the meat of the dungeon, ready to face the fun puzzles and fights and escape with all the coin you can eat as a reward.
Each option sounds like it could be fun to play, to be honest, but option 2 gets the PCs closer to the goal with the least amount of danger, thereby saving time and, moving them towards that tasty dungeon meat I was talking about earlier.

Information is power

Now, another element of this mechanic is that, in Blades in the Dark, to add or remove dice to or from your engagement roll pool, you would take into account many in-world mechanical elements that simply do not apply to my D&D space-galleon game. But there is another mechanic from Blades that I think could work instead. Players could each make a “gather information” roll before the engagement roll. They could use any skill they like for this; arcana, history, religion, stealth, anything that makes sense in the fiction. And they could also use their spells and abilities to improve their chances with their chosen rolls. Success on these rolls could improve their chances of scoring high in the engagement roll.

Normally, in Blades in the Dark, successful information gathering attempts will inform the type of plan the crew comes up with, thereby potentially adding extra dice to the engagement roll pool. In D&D, I am considering my options, advantage or bonuses. Advantage is my preferred way of rewarding players for clever or ingenuous play, but if I offer a +1 or +2 bonus to the engagement roll for each successful gather information roll it means they can stack. I mean, I suppose I could just chuck out the PHB altogether and allow them to have multiple d20s for the engagement roll but, as I mentioned previously, I am not trying to mess with the core rules of the game, just add a little spice to them.

Hot dam

Now, this method could work really well in an instance like I described above where they plan to visit a dungeon and a lot of information and luck could help them to get there quickly and painlessly. But, if all I have planned is a big encounter that doesn’t really involve a lot of build-up or mystery or travel to get to it, I am not sure it helps at all. The problem with D&D combat is still present.

One method I have considered is increasing the damage output of an encounter while decreasing the enemies’ hit points. This would keep the essential rules of the system in play and the sense of danger and high stakes, without the fantastic outlay of time.

So, I am not finished with this idea by any means. If I get a chance, I am going to test out the engagement roll and gather information roll tomorrow night when we return to the Rock of Bral. But I suspect I will need to tweak it and workshop it before it works as well as I want it to.

Does anyone else do this sort of thing? Does anyone have any good ideas for speeding up D&D combat? Should I really try?