Charmed, I'm Sure

Charm is a fun but dangerous spell to use. I know a lot of folks who just avoid it because it can create drama around the table, and there are some groups I won't use it with except in very limited, contained circumstances. But if you can get around the silliness, man, is it a game-changer.

If you're playing a “classic” version of D&D, the rules for the spell probably contain a line along the lines of “[a]ny commands given will usually be obeyed, except that orders against its nature (alignment and habits) may be resisted.” That's a direct quote from the Moldvay Basic book, with emphasis added by me. This, ladies and gents, is how we differentiated between two fighters way back when. Whether you played your warrior as a paragon of virtue, who upheld a code of honor while defending the defenseless, or as an amoral brigand who'd gut his own granny for a shaved copper, it made a difference in the game. Commanding the honorable knight to stab his friends in the back is likely to force another saving throw, and won't be obeyed, where the greedy mercenary will do it without hesitation. Both situations can create all sorts of fun around the table, but of a very different sort.

There are some folks who just can't enjoy this sort of thing. Either they can't separate player from character (and, honestly, in this case, it might be best if you just ask them to leave the game, as they will be a constant source of friction), or they're too uptight about issues of control. I used to be one of these people, and learning to relax and roll with it was hard, but I think I got better. Any time you “de-protagonize” or remove more than the usual amount of choice from the PCs, you're treading on thin ice. You need to be cautious with this sort of thing. If the players trust you, and enjoy your game, most will be willing to roll with this sort of thing and that allows you to really push some in-character buttons.

You've all seen the episode in your favorite serial-esque TV show where the characters are pushed out of their comfort zones and forced to behave out of character by some external force. On “Chuck” it's truth serum, and on Star Trek, it's flying too close to an unstable star that makes everyone on the ship behave like they're drunk. This is where the charm spell really shines. Maybe it allows a character to indulge in a part of their personality they've been denying or suppressing. Maybe it's the push to take them through a mental block, a choice they've been avoiding, or a truth they've been denying.

As a player, charm and other mental/emotional manipulations are your chance to go Dark Phoenix/Dark Willow on the game. Yeah, sure, maybe Mister Goody-Two-Shoes can use his moral fortitude to resist the charm. But maybe he chooses not to. Or maybe, when you scratch the surface, that air of reserve and restraint is the armour that keeps the beast within contained. Maybe its his turn to keep the treasure for himself, or to spend it carousing and having fun. Maybe its his turn to torture and murder the bad guys, to look the other way when expedience wins over virtue, or to kick Christian in his cojones, throw Roxane over his shoulder, and ride off to some romantic hide-away with her.

What about after? Certainly, there are the consequences for things done, for confidences broken and expectations confounded. But what about the character? Maybe the satyr taught her that self denial isn't all it's cracked up to be. Maybe spending some time on the dark side has only renewed his fervor for justice and honor. Maybe a bit of time under a charm is exactly what you need to renew your interest in your character, or to justify within the game changes you've been itching to make for a while now.

UPDATE: More cool ideas and comments spawned by the charm spell from the Lost Papers of Tsojcanth:

Charming an NPC allows PCs to peek “behind the scenes” and learn tidbits about your setting without going out of character. This is a meta-tool that can be used either to showoff your effort, highlight or foreshadow something important that you want to make sure players notice (possibly because they didn’t get it the fist time around) or to provide closure for some events players have been puzzling about.

Be sure to read the whole thing.
(Updated 3/25/10)

Image credits: John William Waterhouse and Clodion.

Old School Tactics: Counting the Cost

Oddysey, ever our canary in the mineshaft, lost a PC to a giant bat in Godless Paladin's intriguing “Mayan/Aztec/Ghost Conquistador dungeon”. Apparently, GP just wanted to break up the monotony of lots of goblins and other such critters, which is always a good thing. Unfortunately, he had no idea just how nasty an 8 HD critter could be. Not until after it had chewed poor Biffy's face off.

This is not an unusual problem for DMs running “old school” games. In 3rd edition D&D, WotC added the challenge rating system to help codify just how nasty a critter was. I judge the results to be mixed, especially at higher levels, but it was a good attempt.

Older versions of D&D don't even have that. DMs are left to “eyeball” the situation as best they can, and the only way to get a good feel for that sort of thing is experience. Things are even worse at 1st level; when most PCs have 1d6 hit points and weapons typically do 1d6 damage, every successful attack has the potential to turn into a devastating alpha strike.

So what's a new DM to do? Here are a few rules-of-thumb you can use to judge the danger of your encounters in an old school game:

• Watch the HD: You can generally judge the toughness of a monster by its hit dice. The more hit dice a critter has, the more hit points it's likely to have, and the better chance it will have to succeed on attack rolls. As a general rule-of-thumb, a group of enemies whose total hit dice is equal to the number of total levels in the PCs and their allies is a strong challenge up until the PCs reach 5th level. (At 5th level, all sorts of wacky things happen, primarily because the PCs gain access to 3rd level spells.)
  
  
• Beware the Power of Iteration: A single foe is not as dangerous as a mob. This is due to attack rolls being made on a single d20. Since the probability of any single number coming up is flat, including a 20, rolling more attack dice has a huge effect on combat. This is magnified if you use any sort of “critical hit” rules.
  
  
• Save or DIE: There are lots of save-or-die powers in old school monster lists. Most spiders and snakes with venom force a life-or-death saving throw with every successful attack. However, these are not nearly as dangerous as those that force multiple characters to save. For instance, the tarantella's poison might seem a safer choice since it doesn't cause immediate death, but rather a spastic dance. However, anyone who sees someone doing this dance must then save vs. Spells or they'll start dancing, too. A single successful bite can potentially wipe out the entire party!
  

So, with all this in mind, what can the DM do to provide a little breathing room for both the dungeon and the players without having to worry constantly about building “killer” adventures? One trick I use are “get out of jail free” options. Things like my shields shall be splintered rule allow PCs to ignore one hit, giving them a bit more surviveability. Notice that there's a price for this, however. Squirming over these sorts of choices is part of the fun of old school gaming. The heroes in my Labyrinth Lord game recently found a potion that will restore all hit points, neutralize nearly any poison, and undo effects like paralyzation and blindness. Unfortunately, it also switches your sex if you drink it.

If you're a player, remember that the same iterative power that works for the monsters can work for you as well. Hirelings and henchmen can go a long way towards evening the odds. Don't underestimate the usefulness of clerics, either. Having a few extra hit points in your back pocket, that can be rushed to any member in the party as needed, is a powerful equalizer.

Finally, remember that there are however many of you, and only one DM. Your combined cleverness can almost always trump any idea the DM has come up with. Yeah, clever planning didn't work for Biffy, but lateral thinking is a potent force multiplier that literally has no limit in the sorts of problems it can overcome.

Photo credits: cheesy42.

Death and Tea Parties

I've been too busy lately, and I've just yesterday got around to listening to Canon Puncture episode #63 where they start off talking about not just one but two of my posts. The first they mention, “Fair is Fair, but don't Expect Any in the Land of Moldvay/Cook” is something that's been tumbling in my head because I can feel I'm circling an idea I'm having trouble expressing, and the reaction of the folks on the podcast makes it clear I'm not there yet.

Yes, character generation is easy in my game. No, no one has given me pages of character history. But learning to live with high character mortality is only part of the equation, and the lesser part at that. So far, we haven't actually killed any PC or NPC hirelings or henchmen. The point I think I'm trying to get across is that you don't have to kill every goblin you meet.

The party has met two groups of goblins. One had captured a cleric and was torturing him. The PCs attacked with surprise and slew most of them, though one fled and escaped. The second group they met was minding their own business in the ruined villa they've been exploring. Neither side got surprise. The PCs backed off and closed the door. The goblins had bigger fish to fry and were not terribly interested in fighting the PCs. And so no fight happened.

In regards to the gefirir, the critter mentioned in the fair-is-fair post, not only did the PCs not fight it, but they actually ended up being given a quest by the elemental. That's what I hoped would happen, but I was ready to throw down with the d20s if they'd decided to try and fight it. So far, caution has been their watchword, and the emphasis has been more on exploration than murder. That's not the only way to play Moldvay/Cook/Labyrinth Lord, but it certainly makes for a fun game.

And it's important to point out that talking and retreat aren't always options. Hungry tarantellas are more than happy to chase young, juicy dwarves and clerics, no matter how fast or far they run. “Automated” magical defenses will attack anyone who enters their “activation zone” and often destroying them is the only way past.

You have to pick your battles in this sort of play. Some things are difficult to defeat. Others are nigh impossible to slay. Sometimes you need to be clever and lead the monster into a trap. If you're lucky, you might be able to bypass the monster all together, or, if you're really good, you might get the monster to help you.

It's all on the table. Up front, I tell my players that I won't feed them fair fights, and I don't expect them to fight fair either. I am, as the Canon Puncture folks say, fair to the world. This also means that the players can learn how the world works and use that to their advantage. Any challenge can be tackled in a variety of ways, depending on the tools the PCs have at hand.

On the flip side, I also don't toss them into inescapable deathtraps. There's always a warning, a way out, a chance to back off or escape. Sometimes you need to be clever to find it, and it's almost always better to not get into the situation in the first place.

That's a lot of words to try and describe something I understand at a gut level. That means I'm still probably not there yet. Don't be surprised if I revisit this theme again in the near future. The title, by the way, is a reference to something one of my players said to me. She'd had a rough week and was looking forward to bashing some heads. “So light on the tea parties this time, got it?”

UPDATE: Lord Kilgore riffs on a similar theme:

I prefer PCs see wandering monsters as something to be avoided (or parleyed with) if possible. I want players to see their characters on a mission and unwilling to risk derailing themselves by getting sidetracked (or killed) by those bugbears who just happen to be passing through. If you greatly expand the combat XP awards, now there’s no reason NOT to fight. In fact, heading out and HOPING for wandering monsters could become a decent strategy. How is that “good decision making”?