Friday, 9 January 2015

A d20 Dice Pool Table

This is just me noodling on something I was curious about - what would a d20 table for dice pool results look like?

Dice pools have some nice properties. Chief among them is the lack of swinginess - the number of successes (e.g. the number of d6 that turn up 4+) you roll tends to cluster in the middle, so the wildly extreme results don't come up quite so often.

In Burning Wheel, for example, you might be rolling four dice for your sword skill, with any that turn up 4+ counted as successes. Four dice could generate as much as 4 successes, but there's only a 1 in 16 chance of that - rolling 2 successes is more likely by far.

One of the things you can do with this is use the result as a measure of how awesome you did: the margin of success or failure is a number that's also not too swingy. Bad shit can happen, but it will be rarer than near misses.

If, however, you don't like the aesthetics of rolling 4D6 every time you swing your weapon, or you have a nostalgia-induced allergic reaction to attacking monsters without a d20 in your hand, you've been shut out of this particular statistical bliss. Until now! Aren't you lucky?  (At least, as long as you don't mind tables.)

# Dice
d20
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
1
0
0
0
0
0
1
1
1
2
2
2
0
0
0
1
1
1
2
2
2
3
3
0
0
0
1
1
2
2
2
3
3
4
0
0
1
1
1
2
2
3
3
4
5
0
0
1
1
2
2
3
3
3
4
6
0
1
1
1
2
2
3
3
4
4
7
0
1
1
2
2
2
3
3
4
4
8
0
1
1
2
2
3
3
4
4
5
9
0
1
1
2
2
3
3
4
4
5
10
0
1
1
2
2
3
3
4
4
5
11
1
1
2
2
3
3
4
4
5
5
12
1
1
2
2
3
3
4
4
5
5
13
1
1
2
2
3
3
4
4
5
5
14
1
1
2
2
3
4
4
5
5
6
15
1
1
2
3
3
4
4
5
5
6
16
1
2
2
3
3
4
4
5
6
6
17
1
2
2
3
4
4
5
5
6
6
18
1
2
3
3
4
4
5
6
6
7
19
1
2
3
3
4
5
5
6
7
7
20
1
2
3
4
5
5
6
7
7
8

This table converts d20 rolls into an appropriate number of successes on a dice pool from 1-10 dice. If you want to roll 5 dice, just grab your d20 and roll - 17?  4 successes.

To make this table, I worked out the probabilities for n successes for m dice, and then rounded to the nearest 5% (representing 1/20th of a d20 roll) to see how many times on the d20 n should show up. I hand-tweaked a couple of entries where the total wasn't 20.

One could use this as a basis for an opposed combat system - Fighters roll d20, treating their level as the # of dice, while monsters use their hit dice. For every point the winner wins by, they do their damage.  (So a 6th level fighter duels a 2HD orc, rolling 14 to the orc's 8. The fighter's result is 4, the orc's is 1, for a difference of 3. The fighter comes out unharmed, and the orc takes d8 x 3 hp damage from the fighter's sword.)

It could work similar for saving throws - a fire trap activates with a target of 4. Everyone rolls a reflexes save (maybe that's half-level for everyone but the thief), taking 5 points of damage for the margin of failure.

Or whatever. :)

Monday, 5 January 2015

Interaction Layers in RPGs

In this post I articulate a simple idea that's been on my mind for a while, using a lot of words (probably too many) and pictures. This is either obvious or controversial, I'm not sure, but here goes:

All in-game interactions in a role-playing game are mediated by real-world interactions.

When we play an RPG, and it's running smoothly, it feels like this:

We have a shared imaginary space in which our characters are interacting (talking, fighting, passing equipment back and forth, etc.). Graun the desert warrior is talking with Sophola the arcane.

But that's just how it feels - what's actually happening, physically, is this:
In reality, Graun never speaks directly to Sophola. Alex and Karen are speaking, pretending to be their characters, and while they do this, each is imagining the interaction. Graun and Sophola get to speak, but only through their players.

The imaginary space isn't really shared, Karen and Alex are imagining quite different things. Only our real-world actions (e.g. talking in character, the GM describing the room) get us on the same page, but when that's working smoothly, the illusion is good enough.


In other words, all in-game interactions are mediated by real-world interactions. This holds true whether we're talking about PCs, NPCs, monsters, the demographics of the market square or the broader setting - if someone at the table is talking or showing something, the interaction isn't occurring.

The power of role-taking is that, when the game is running smoothly, we can forget this completely and immerse in our characters.

What's Real Here?

Things feel real when they're tangible - that is to say, when there's resistance. If Karen (when talking and acting in-character) consistently behaves as if Sophola has her own goals and plans, which Alex needs to consider, Sophola will start feeling like a real person. If Alex does the same, Graun will too, until everyone feels as if they're surrounded by these imaginary characters.

When we meet resistance, it engages our problem-solving, learning grey matter. Like a blindfolded person feeling their way around a room, Alex uses in-game interactions to figure out what he's up against, gradually bringing into focus, and simple explanations are powerful.

When Alex understands and trusts/or his relationship with Karen well enough that he can disregard it as a source of any resistance he feels, the simplest approach is to treat Sophola as a real, independent person (merely given voice by Karen). Sophola starts to feel real:
Man, Sophola is really fucking me over.

When something seems off in the real-world relationship, Alex is less likely to perceive Sophola as real, and instead tries to figure out Karen. When Sophola's behavior is more simply explained by something Alex imagines about Karen (e.g. that she doesn't like him, or thinks his suggestions are stupid, or is more interested in supporting Peter's ideas), Sophola disappears completely:

Why is Karen being a dick?

Messages are simultaneously exchanged at both layers. Every in-game interaction is mediated by a real-world interaction, and both have meaning.

Alex (Player): I grab the shopkeeper's apron. [I interact with that character you created.]
Karen (GM): Hah! You grab a hold of it, and he totters off-balance towards you. [I'm incorporating what you said into the game.]

Alex (Player): I grab the shopkeeper's apron. [I interact with that character you created.]
Karen (GM): He dodges your clumsy swipe and breaks the vase anyways. [I'm ignoring your suggestion.]

Now, the meaning of the real-world interaction is only inferred - Alex has to guess. Perhaps Karen has decided that the shopkeeper is a demon, far more dextrous and quick than Graun. Perhaps Karen is annoyed by Alex's constant attempts to start fights. Alex will come to his own conclusion over a series of interactions.

Trammel of Archimedes

Back in the summer I posted a method for drawing the type of foreshortened ("squashed") circles one needs when drawing circular rooms on axonometric dungeon maps.

Unfortunately it's a bit math heavy and slow, and +Nate McD was quick to point out that if your axes are truly isometric (most of my maps are actually dimetric), there's an approximation with a pair of compasses that's much faster.

Recently, however, I needed to draw this:

If you squint, you can see that it's built out of several foreshortened circles.  The problem is that perspective basis isn't isometric, the foreshortening is much steeper than that.  This rules out compass approximations, which start to look wonky at steep angles.

Making foreshortened circles is trivial in Photoshop or Illustrator, but I was working on paper, old-school style.


This method is pretty simple, once you get your head around it, it's exact (not an approximation), and it can be used for any degree of foreshortening.  It's fairly quick, but you do need to be willing to draw a freehand curve through a series of dots.

Using the Trammel


First, you figure out how big you want your ellipse to be.  Assuming it's wider than it is tall, the width is the 'major axis', and the height is the 'minor axis'. Divide each of those values in half, which gives you the 'semimajor' and 'semiminor' axes.  I've illustrated as green and blue lines, respectively.

Lay these distances out on your ruler, but in a particular way.  Starting at zero (blue circle), go up your ruler the length of your semi-major axis (green), and make a mark (shown by the red circle).

Then, come back towards zero the length of your semi-minor axis, and make a second mark (shown by the green circle).

Now, here's the neat trick.  If you place the tip (blue) of your ruler on the minor axis, and your second mark (green) on the major axis, the first mark (red) will tell you where to draw the ellipse.


Now, work your trammel: the tip (blue) slides up and down the minor axis, and the middle point (green) slides back and forth along the major axis. As you move it, make tick marks at the outer mark (red). These will trace out your ellipse:



It takes a bit of practice to get used to sliding your ruler around (it can be helpful to have a second ruler to slide the tip against), but in no time you'll have traced out your


You'll need to freehand the ellipse itself, but that just adds charm. For the Zentac Dreadnought, I used this technique for two of the eight ellipses, and then used a ruler to translate them up and down by hand:

You still need to draw the rest of the owl, of course, but it's a lot easier once you have solid elliptical guides to work from.






Sunday, 28 December 2014

A Litany in Scratches

Several astute readers have wondered where adventure #3 is.. here it is!  A Litany in Scratches.


This was the scenario I concocted for a Torchbearer playtest some years ago - though of course at the time it was a few scribbles and bullet points, rather than clean maps and a PDF.

I was fascinated by a style of pacing I'd seen in a one-page dungeon, 'Zombie Elves': the players go quite a ways in, through creepier and creepier stuff, before finally the ceiling falls in and they're suddenly fighting for their lives.

Torchbearer is largely about dungeoneering logistics; players are constantly aware of the load of their packs, the limited space they have for anything extra, and the short distance that their food and light will take them into (or out of) dark, dangerous places.

This scenario unfolded slowly; the two adventurers inching their way through the darkened gatehouse, searching and finding little, and wondering where all the doors had gone. They got a bit scraped up in the ravine after tangling with a vampire bush, which was good as it made them pretty wary of the tree branches in the cloister. When they figured out what the tree was up to, they were properly creeped out!

This didn't deter them from climbing down into the shrine, however, for a scene whose memory I treasure: the duo desperately trying to decide what to toss out so they could carry more treasure, all while listening to the Master's cackling, and the sloshing of the undead advancing on them. This cemented in my mind that defeating the dungeon is not the end of the adventure, it's just the start of what might be a long and dangerous journey home - especially if you've left your tinderbox behind.

For reasons I forget now, the players decided to flee through the catacombs, running directly into the barricade.

That was awesome - it was like the sickening punchline to a long joke. I had mentioned the missing furniture at every opportunity, and now, standing in knee-deep water lit by their last torch, listening to an army of crypt servants coming to tear them limb from limb, the mystery was solved. Alas!

As always, the adventure and all the art is released under Creative Commons cc-by-nc.

Sunday, 7 December 2014

The Nuss

The Nuss first appeared in the extraplanar wilderness adventure, Extent of Gamandes.

Hunger for the Form

Far off, in the void between worlds is a region of chaotic, vital energy. There is no matter there, but the ether is thick with a potentiality of form and movement.  The beings that dwell there, the Nuss, clamor for material existence.  

The essence of each Nuss expresses a different, unique form. They long to inhabit mortal flesh, "erupting" it into whatever form they have waited an eternity to express.

The Nuss look with contempt upon mortals that express only one stable form during their long lives, vainly resisting change. Worst of all is the mortal habit of producing near-identical offspring - an act of supreme selfishness!

If they had the chance, they would use the material realms more wisely. They want bodies, to share if they must, so they can show the selfish the blessed joy of eruption!

While most Nuss express random, distorted and frequently crippled shapes, a few are chosen for the sacred duty of converting mortal flesh to their joyous cause: the Harbingers of Nuss.

The Harbingers of Nuss

Harbingers are 8' tall abominations with trilateral symmetry (three wings, three legs, three arms), topped with an eye-encrusted mass.  Their blade-like wings beat constantly, emitting a constant, fluttering hum.

They move and fight with equal ease in any direction, though they are somewhat ungainly on the ground. They can fly at incredible speeds, however: faster than the eye can see, tearing the sky with a deafening noise.

Their hollow-tipped spears inject the essence of a Nussan form; anyone stabbed must resist with restorative magic or heroic fortitude, or begin 'erupting': taking the shape of the Nuss whose essence was injected. From the moment of injection, complete transformation can take as little as 6 days.

Harbingers are not interested in martial glory, only bringing forth new eruptions. They will retreat from stiff resistance and wait for a chance for an ambush, but they are determined: unworthy Harbingers are recycled.

Each Harbinger carries d6 doses of Nussan essence.

B/X D&D Stats

Armor Class: as +2 Chain
Hit Dice: 9*
Move: 90' (40')
Attacks: spear / kick
Damage: 1-8 / 1-6
No. Appearing: 1-2
Save As: Elf 7
Morale: 9
Treasure Type: Nil
Alignment: Chaotic
XP: 1600

The first target injured by the spear must save vs. Poison or be infected by Nussan essence.  If the saving throw is failed, a transformation starts immediately, completing over the next 6 hours.

Roll randomly to determine the limb and what it is transformed into:

Location:
1-head, 2-left arm, 3-right arm, 4-torso, 5-left leg, 6-right leg

Transformation:
1. Warty spheres
2. Tough, rope-like umbilicals
3. Tentacled mats
4. Branching worms, with many legs or none
5. Toothy, stud-like protrusions
6. Dozens of tiny, bead-like eyes

Unless it is removed by cure disease, wish, or similar spell, another transformation will occur each following day for a total of d6+1 transformations.

Dungeon World Stats

Intelligent, Devious, Cautious, Planar
Poisoned Spear (d10), Near
HP 10; 1 Armor

Instinct: to inject transforming essence
Land and strike suddenly
Weave and change directions
Leap into the heavens with a thunderclap

Saturday, 29 November 2014

The Extent of Gamandes

This adventure goes off in a new direction for me, an extraplanar, apocalyptic wilderness!

Led by their mad Emperor, invading Void Gulls have slain the demigod Gamandes in his home plane. Unfortunately, their chaotic Nuss allies have turned on them and cannibalized the invasion force to meet their alien thirst for corporeal existence.

What can adventurers gain from this place before Gull void weapons tear it apart completely?


As always, the text and art are released under cc-by-nc.




Monday, 10 November 2014

Void Gulls


Deprived of their home plane long ago, these alien gulls have adapted to the void that howls between realms. When found in the material plane, they are found in small patrol or scouting groups.

They are keenly interested in sorcerers and summoners of all types, and will abduct them opportunistically, hoping to extract magical secrets from them.

They move by 'glide-hopping' - bouncing up on their one leg, and flapping for a few feet before hopping once more. In combat, they seize prey with their rubbery fingers, and deliver axe-like blows with their bony, tripartite 'beaks'.

Gull 'nests' are ruled over by a void-bringer, a gull with considerable magical ability. The presence of a nest in the material plane is a dire sign.

EDIT: Void Gulls appear in the extraplanar wilderness adventure, The Extent of Gamandes.


B/X D&D Stats

Armor Class: as +1 Leather
Hit Dice: 4+1*
Move: 120' (40')
Attacks: claw/claw/beak
Damage: 1-4/1-4/1-10
No. Appearing: 1-8 (3-24)
Save As: Fighter 3
Morale: 8
Treasure Type: C + N
Alignment: Chaotic
XP: 200

If either claw attack hits, the gull has briefly seized its target and may strike with its beak.

A nest of 13 or more gulls will be ruled over by a void-bringer, with the abilities of a 6th level Magic-User.


Dungeon World Stats

Group, Intelligent, Organized, Planar

Beak hammer blow (d8+1); 9 HP; 1 Armor
Close
  • Mob a solitary victim
  • Flee to fight again another day
  • Drag away a hostage
  • Conduct a ritual to tear open reality and let in the void


Torchbearer Stats

Might: 3
Nature: 4 / Hacking, Seizing, Gliding

Conflict Dispositions

Kill: 4
Attack +1s, Hammer Beak
Maneuver +1D, Rubbery Wings

Drive Off: 4
Feint +1s, Grabbing Claws
Defense +1D Mad Hopping

Flee: 8
Attack +1s - Rubbery Wings
Maneuver +1D Rubbery Wings

Armor: Leather
Instinct: Abduct a wizard or elf