Capturing the PCs

Sometimes GMs post to social media asking for advice on how to capture their PCs.

GMs, we need to have a talk...

1. You don't get to force the PCs to be taken captive.
In most RPGs, the only (or at least primary) way your players have to tell their part of the story is through their characters' actions.  By forcing them to become captives, you take away that ability to tell the story.

Being imprisoned isn't the problem.  There are whole RPGs about being imprisoned (cf Dream Park, 1992).  The transition from free to imprisoned is the problem.  Just like you can't force the players to go into the dungeon, you can't force the players to travel to Paris, and you can't force the players to walk into the spooky haunted castle, you can't force the players to go into captivity.

2. You can get the players' buy-in, though
You can ask the players, out of character, if they agree to a situation where they get taken captive.  If they trust you, and you make it sound fun, they'll agree.  If they agree, be nice about logistical things like letting them getting their stuff back, or else they won't trust you as much in the future.

If they don't agree, find out why.  Maybe they want a fair shot at escape.  Maybe they believe their characters would rather die than be captured by the people you suggest they get captured by.  Ask them under what circumstances their characters would find themselves prisoners.  Allow them to tell a story about how they got captured that's comfortable to them.

Example:  "I would rather die than let myself be captured by vampires.  My character has a terrible fear of being bitten by a vampire.  But if they hit me with a high level Sleep spell of high enough level, they could tie me up and drag me off before I could resist."  

Don't think of it as "that player is trying to tell me what to do."  Think of it as "she just gave me a cool new henchman for the vampire queen -- a sneaky wizard!"

3. Foreseen stakes
Players will accept being captured as the consequences of a die roll they miss, but only with all of the following conditions:

• You presented the stakes before the roll
• The roll appears fair
• The failure stakes sound fun
• You have their trust

For instance, in a D&D game, the party is camping in the wilderness.  The Dragonborn Sorcerer is on watch.  You tell the players, "Some drow are coming to capture you four.  If they capture you, it'll be a cool escape quest.  If not, you'll have a drow warband to investigate from the outside.  Either way, I'm sure it'll be fun.  They're going to use their poison arrows on the Sorcerer, and put their drow poison in your mouths while you sleep.  Each of you gets to make either a DC 13 Constitution save or Perception check -- your choice.  Everyone has Disadvantage because they're sleeping, except the Sorcerer.  If two of you succeed, you fight off the drow, and they retreat.  If less than two of you succeed, you've been captured.  There are too many drow for just one of you to fight off.  OK?"

This example follows the rules:

• Everything was explained before the players rolled, so they know what happens if they fail
• The roll appears fair - more than fair, really.  If the sorcerer got hit with multiple arrows, she'd have to make multiple saving throws.  
• The GM explained how both success and failure on the group check would be fun.  This should always be true:  Never call for a roll where either success or failure is boring!
• We're assuming the players don't have a problem trusting this DM

4. If you don't talk to them about it ahead, it feels like railroading
Let's say you decide to capture the PCs by using a really powerful encounter where the NPCs use nonlethal attacks to capture the party; but you don't present the stakes before the combat, and you don't explain how being captured could be fun in this case.

This is going to seem like railroading, because while any encounter is technically winnable if the players' dice come up 20s every roll, in reality, that's not true.  Using overwhelming opponents and being a jerk about retreat/escape will cost you a lot of trust.  After you burn your players' trust, do you really think they're going to be excited about the "you've been captured" adventure?  Even your best friend will have their enthusiasm dulled a little by the forced capture.

Here's why it feels so bad:  The social contract of most RPG battles is that every battle is technically winnable unless you're attacking something you know is way too powerful for you.  Level 1 D&D characters can't take down a Lich, but the DM will tell them they can't take down a Lich before they try it.  They won't be ambushed by a Lich on the way to the castle.  While it's common to put overwhelmingly powerful monsters in your world, it's lame to put overwhelmingly powerful monsters in your world and then not tell the players they're overwhelmingly powerful.  And it's really crappy GM behavior to ambush the PCs with overwhelming monsters they can't escape from.

5. A truly skilled GM knows how to make them let themselves be captured
Why do all the work?  Why not make the PCs figure out how to get themselves captured?

James Bond always walks right in to his opponent's den, and he's almost always captured as a result.  And he always profits from it!

Why does he do this?  He could assault the enemy's fortification or try to sneak in. He's good at both approaches.  But both involve a lot of risks, including the risk of death. Letting himself get captured often reveals information -- not just "before I kill you, Mr. Bond," monologues, but the layout of the site, the location of things he needs, the relationship between the henchman and the villain, and so forth.  In addition, brazen moves that get him captured usually force the villain to make mistakes, panic, recall henchmen, postpone executions of people Bond wants to save, or abandon additional plans in favor of haste.

If you want your players to start thinking of getting captured as a victory, you just have to make getting captured the most expedient plan.  It helps if you tell the players that...

• ...if the enemy force gets them, they won't kill them, and there will be ample opportunities to escape.
• ...the villain will likely make specific mistakes if they put themselves in the villain's hands ("MI-6 is on to us?  We need to accelerate the timetable!").
• ...other approaches are very dangerous - give them reasons why stealth, assault, and disguise put them at more risk than getting captured.
• ...being captured is the best starting point for a stealth, assault, or disguise plan.  In fact, they can prepare for capture, smuggling in lockpicks and such.

Still, the protagonists letting themselves get captured is different from the protagonists being captured against their will, and you might want both sorts of scenes.

6. Use the system if you can

Only a few RPGs have a mechanic for bribing the PCs to let something bad happen to them.  Fate has compels.  The Cipher System has GM intrusions.  There aren't that many.  If you have access to this tool, use it!  In Fate, for instance, you can use a compel to offer the PCs a Fate Point (meta-game currency they can use for bonuses or doing their own compels) for getting captured.  The can refuse the compel, spending a Fate point instead, and describe how they escape.  It's not perfect, but it's a much smoother way to handle it than a die roll!

How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love the Monster Manual

A Primer on How to Run 5e D&D

5e is a great RPG -- probably the best edition of D&D -- but it's not great at telling you how to ::looks at camera:: run a game.

A major challenge that new and experienced GMs alike stumble over is encounter design.

Encounter design is the art of setting up a discrete, relatively isolated conflict with NPCs or monsters.

Because the conflict in D&D is usually with NPCs or monsters, there's a high risk of a fight breaking out.  At least a third of D&D encounters featuring monsters or NPCs wind up in combat, and the system for challenge rating (CR) makes estimating how hard these battles will be very difficult.

Monsters within the same CR vary wildly in lethality.  Dragons and undead don't match other monsters at their level, for different, intentional reasons.  Worse, the math you're supposed to use to determine if your encounter is Easy, Medium, Hard, or Deadly is messy, challenging, and produces wild results.

Finally, 5e D&D assumes the party will be facing two or more encounters per short rest, and more than eight per long rest, so challenge ratings are averaged out between encounter #1 and encounter #8, when we all know that the PCs have an easier time when they're full on resources than when they're down to their last spell.  Since most DMs don't create time pressure plot that demands the party fight through eight encounters a day, that assumption is broken.  It's a mess!

But that's OK.

Breathe!

You're going to be fine.

Here's why: I'm going to tell you how to GM 5e D&D without freaking out about challenge rating.

1. Encounter stakes should almost never be "kill or be killed"
2. Have "encounters" not "fights"
3. Don't make running away hard
4. Warn them about deadly foes (it's OK!)
5. Learn how to make easy encounters scary
6. Threaten things they care about, OTHER than their hp or gp
7. Start each PC turn with stakes narration

1. Encounter stakes should almost never be "kill or be killed"

Source: Pexels

It takes an enormous, personal hatred for someone to try to murder another person, at risk to their own life.  That's even true for non-sapient creatures like snakes or tigers.  A rattlesnake might kill, but only in self defense or to hunt.  It will run away and give warning before it strikes an attacker, and it will flee prey that turns out to be able to fight back.  A tiger might kill a human for the cruel sport of it, but if the tiger's life is in danger, it will run away.  People are even more thoughtful about killing each other.  Even serial killers, terrorists, and assassins avoid fighting to the death except in very specific circumstances. 

If all you use are the D&D equivalents of serial killers, terrorists, and assassins, the horror of their single-minded violence will get old, fast.  Most encounters in your adventure should be about things that one or both sides care about, and they should care about practical things connected to the antagonists' plans.  Serial killers, terrorists, and assassins care about bizarre fantasies, zealous ideologies, and political extremism.  They make great main antagonists, but to populate a dungeon, they need the fantasy equivalent of paid soldiers, faction loyalists, friends, patsies, and guard dogs.

Characters and monsters that work for your antagonist are rarely mindless killers.  And even the mindless killers have specific instructions.

Example:  Some goblins are holed up in a ruin on a ransom scheme.  They're trying to get rich trading a wealthy captive for a lot of gold.  If adventurers show up to rescue their captive, the goblins will try to chase the adventurers off; but those goblins won't die for a cut of the ransom!  That's insane!  Goblins aren't that stupid.

Example:  A necromancer has animated some skeletons to guard the crypt where she prepares the dark ritual.  She has tasked them to stay in the antechamber and then to kill any living being that enters it other than her.  PCs can split up and have a fast Rogue attack the skeletons and draw them away, or shout past them to get the necromancer to come out.

This tip is all about what the antagonists care about.  But sometimes GMs need to frame encounter stakes around what the PCs care about - see #6.

2. Have "encounters" not "fights"

When you prep your adventure, you might be tempted to think "for this fight, we'll have three bugbears."  Stop!  How do you know it's a fight?

When you're GMing, don't push to roll initiative.  Bugbears don't spend all day laying in wait, hoping some adventurer stumbles upon them.  Unless the bugbears are specifically ordered to prepare ambush (an unusual thing to do, unless there's an immediate reason), they will be acting normally.  Describe what the PCs encounter, then ask "what do you do?"  Sometimes someone will say "I charge the nearest bugbear!  Leeeeerooooy Jenkins!"

But since fights drain their resources, the PCs are more likely to try a different, smarter approach first.  You can frame that approach as hard as you want, because failing the Stealth or Deception check probably will lead to a fight.

3. Don't make running away hard

There are no less than three different systems for retreating in 5e D&D.

1. You can use the combat rules, stay in initiative, and have the players declare Disengage actions and movement to escape their enemies.  
2. You can use the optional chase rules in the DMG.  
3. Or you can narrate the result of a PC action, without using dice.  All three of those are "rules as written" ways to handle retreat.

The chase rules are pretty good.  They're a fun mechanical way to resolve a chase, which is what a retreat is if the enemy wants to pursue the PCs.  But see tip #1 - if the monsters' goal is to chase off the PCs, they win if the PCs run away. They don't have to run them down and slaughter them!

Narrating the retreat is even better:  You look at the encounter stakes (see #1 and #6) and decide what happens if the PCs forfeit by running away.  Then you narrate the result and make some notes as to what's happened while the PCs fled.

The combat system, however, is lethal.  If the PCs know the fight is too hard, staying in initiative will probably kill them and the players know it.

Example:  The PCs have to choose between Move and Dash (and eat an opportunity attack) or Disengage and Move.  If they Move and Dash, the enemy can Move and Dash and continue getting free opportunity attacks, unless the enemy is slower than them.  If they Disengage and Dash, the enemy can move and take an Action against them every turn.  Unless the PCs have faster movement speed than the monsters, retreat is suicidal.

So tell your players that your official DM policy is never to force them to use the combat system to retreat.

"Here's my policy:  If you all agree to retreat, we will drop out of initiative and either narrate the retreat or use the chase rules in the DMG.  This means retreating is a lot easier for you."

If you do that, the players will know they can run away, and so will you.  But they won't run away unless they know they're out-gunned.  So...

4. Warn them about deadly foes (it's OK!)

In real life, there is no animal that cannot be killed by a reasonably fit "first level" person with chain mail and a spear.  A "10 in every stat" human with no special combat training can kill a tiger or a hippo or a grizzly bear if they've got a spear and chain mail armor.

The "classes and levels" system of D&D introduces "high level" threats that no mere mortal can defeat.  A Commoner with chain mail and a spear has effectively zero chance to defeat an Adult Red Dragon -- or even a Dire Wolf.

Well sure, that's just how D&D is, right?

You should feel comfortable warning your players about deadly foes. Gary Gygax was! In original Dungeons and Dragons, the depth in the dungeon was the challenge level! Every time you went down a level, the monsters got harder. You knew you were facing bigger risks if you were at Dungeon Level 6. And if you were Character Level 2, that was a reason for caution. Why should the 5th edition be MORE antagonistic and secretive than the first? Just tell them when a fight is Deadly (according to the DMG's rules).

Example:  A level 1 PCs might attack an assassin, not knowing that the assassin is the Assassin from the Monster Manual -- a CR 8 foe with 78 hit points.  She can outright kill most level 1 PCs with a single blow.  She can singlehandedly "TPK" a level 1 party in as little as two rounds.  But how would your players know that? You. You need to communicate that.

You need to make it clear to the players, out of character, that this CR 8 Assassin is way out of their league, because it is not realistic that they could all beat on an assassin with greataxes and spells for twelve seconds and have approaching zero chance of killing her.

Then, ask them how they know this information, in character.

"Hey folks, OOC, this is a CR 8 foe with more hit points than you have combined, and she can do 40 damage per attack with multiple attacks.  Engage at your own risk.  How do your characters know that?"

You recruit the players to help create an in-game justification for why they know the assassin is too deadly an Assassin for them to fight head-on.  That way they have buy-in, which supports verisimilitude:  If they come up with an answer, the answer will seem more plausible to them.

If the players (A) know how hard the foe is, and (B) they know you won't make them use the combat system to retreat, then (C) they won't feel forced to fight for their lives against a foe they can't handle.

But both A and B are necessary for C.

5. Learn how to make easy encounters scary

Sometimes the story calls for an easy encounter.  Sometimes you thought the encounter was going to be hard, and it turns out it wasn't.  No biggie!  Learn how to make encounters seem harder than they are, then always use those tricks.

Let's face it -- your PCs will probably have one or two hundred fights in a long D&D campaign.  That's a lot of fights!

Even if you're running a "killer" campaign, only 10% of them are going to be literally lethal.  And most of us aren't running "killer" campaigns (it's not a popular style).  So if 90% or more (probably far more) of the fights aren't really a threat, your job is to make them feel scary.

This is an imagination game.  Everything is make believe.  If a monster feels scary, it is scary.

There are several ways to do that.

1. Act! This is where you try to get all Matt Mercer on your players.  Menace them.  But maybe you suck at acting.  (That's OK, so do I.)  Luckily there are a few other ways to make monsters scarier than they deserve.
2. The second way is to describe the monsters as way scarier than their stats deserve.  Part of this is revealing as little as possible about monsters' stats before battle begins.  And when you do give away the monsters' secrets, reveal their weaknesses before you reveal their strengths.  That sounds backwards, but it's not!  Something that's unknown is way scarier than something you can predict and prepare for.  
3. When you describe the battle, do the opposite:  Never describe a PC OR a monster as weak or fumbling.  If a PC misses, it was because the monster was tough, quick, or skilled.  If a monster misses, it's because the PC was tough, quick, or skilled.  And don't make a hit draw serious blood until the monster is low on hit points - below half at least.  (This is the book's official advice on describing damage.)
4. The last way is Tip #6...

6. Threaten things they care about, other than their hp or gp

Remember, even a "killer DM" is only going to kill a PC off once every couple of sessions, and you're probably not a killer DM.  So you can't try to kill the PCs every encounter, or they might notice that you're not killing them.  Then things will get boring.

So threaten things the PCs care about, other than their hit points.  Threaten things that you're willing to follow through on.

Each encounter, the opposition has a goal, and that goal should very rarely be "kill all the PCs or die trying" (see Tip #1).  Choose goals for the antagonists so that if they achieve their goal, it will make the story more interesting. The most interesting goals your villains might have are goals that directly threaten things your PCs care about.

Here's a list of encounter stakes to use as inspiration, split into ascending tiers of severity.  Your monsters can win most of those stakes, and it doesn't end the campaign like "kill or be killed" stakes do.  That list has fifty encounter stakes options, none of which is "slaughter all the PCs or die trying."

But take it a step farther:  What are the monsters after?  Whatever it is, make it personal.

That's what I mean by threaten something they care about other than their hp or gp.  The thing that drives your plot is your antagonist's plan.  Make your antagonist's plan directly conflict with things each PC cares about.

If your antagonist's plan is in direct conflict with things the PCs care about, you're running a "character-driven campaign."  If not, your campaign is not driven by the things the characters care about.  Sure, they might be saving the world -- we all care about the world -- but it's not personal.  If you want the easiest way to run a character-driven campaign, here's how to do it.

In a character-driven campaign, you set the antagonists' goals in conflict with things the PCs care about.  Look at the PCs' backstories (and in a 5e D&D game, check their Personal Characteristics) for this information.

Example: Let's go back to the goblin sentry example, from Tip #1.  The goblins care about guarding a ruin where they're holding a hostage they're trying to ransom.  In a non-character-driven campaign, the PCs are hired to go save the hostage with the promise of a reward.  The hostage's life isn't worth the ransom (or the goblins miscalculated and asked for too much), so they've offered the PCs a lower amount to rescue them.  Losing the fight or running away means the PCs' reward is in doubt.  But it's just gold.

In a character-driven campaign, you play off of their passions.  The Criminal wants to become the greatest thief in the world.  At the start of the adventure, a character-driven GM insinuates that the hostage is a priest who can help spread word of their prowess.  The Acolyte cleric owes her life to this priest who took her in when her parents died.  The Soldier's honor is her life.  She promised the Acolyte cleric that she would save the priest, so retreating from this fight is dishonorable.  The warlock is wanted for a robbery from his days as an Urchin, and the character-driven GM has insinuated that the priest's influence could get him a pardon, if he can keep his dark patron a secret.

All of a sudden, fights are exciting not because of the chess game tactical challenges, but because something the characters care about is on the line.  You can screw up encounter design and wind up with a fight too easy or a fight too hard, and it doesn't matter, because what makes it exciting is that the PCs' actions could get this priest killed.

7. Start each PC turn with stakes narration

The last problem with the CR system is that the rules assume an adventuring day with a few encounters per short rest, and more than eight encounters per long rest (fewer at lower levels, and more at the highest levels, of course).

However, in practice, having ten battles a day is not how most DMs run D&D.  The only way to do that is to create a plot with time pressure, and then put ten violent monsters in the way of achieving the plot before the clock runs out.  That can be fun, but you don't want to do it every single time.

Consequently, character classes designed to make players carefully ration a dozen spells over the course of a day usually kick ass most days, because most days, the DM doesn't actually make you face more than a few encounters.

The reason it's a problem at all that the Wizard spells and the Rogue just has the same old sneak attack is that the Wizard's highest level spells are game changers that are supposed to be limited to once every handful of encounters.  They steal the spotlight.  If the Wizard doesn't have to ration their best spells, they can use their best spells every turn.  So how do you balance for this inherent problem without becoming a master encounter (and adventure!) designer?

When the daily-refresh classes don't have to budget their resources, every encounter goes like this:  The fighter and rogue did some damage, and then the Wizard cast a big spell that turned the tide, leaving the fighter and rogue to mop up what little opposition was left.

So you don't have to give Rogues powerful spells.  You have to make every PC turn feel like a critical moment in the story.  The way you do that is to start each and every PC turn with narration that focuses the action on the current stakes, in terms of that character's perspective.  Here's a thread on how to do that in detail.

RPG Combat Gamerunning Thread

Today let's talk about a technique I learned to use to make combat more exciting.
1/

— Jon Lemich (@RunAGame) September 13, 2018

In this way, the DM can make the cleric's 4 hit point Healing Word or the Rogue's missed attack into a critical moment in the story.  Sure, the Wizard's Fireball and the fighter's big Action Surge turn are what really turned the tide, but look at this example:

DM:  Rogue, two hobgoblins are attacking Bard while Ragnar is poised to finish off the direwolf.  You can finish off the direwolf pretty safely, or go take some heat off of Bard before the hobgoblins kill him.  What do you do?
Rogue: Ug, my Flaw is I don't take risks for others, but I can't just let him go down.  I go try to take out one of the hobgoblins.  Crud.  Eight.  I miss.
DM: Hobgoblins' turn.  The one you attacked swings at you...  19 to hit for 13 damage.
Rogue: Ouch!  Down to three hit points!
DM:  You have a big gash on your sword arm.  Blood is running down your hand, dripping all over the ground.
Rogue:  I think, 'That's what I get for sticking my neck out for people!'

The DM framed the turn as a choice between self-preservation and heroism.  The Rogue acted against his nature to try to help someone, and suffered for it.  It's a character-defining moment, and also a relationship-defining moment for Bard and Rogue.  I mean, Rogue tried, right?

Summary

1. Encounter stakes should almost never be "kill or be killed"

• Problem: Need more realistic antagonists, are you willing to follow through on TPK threatening encounters?
• Skill: Creative stakes setting, worldbuilding

2. Have "encounters" not "fights"

• Problem: Jumping to combat too quickly, 
• Skill: Scaffolding encounters with multiple routes to success, improvising to accommodate creative actions

3. Don't make running away hard

• Problem: retreating in D&D while staying in initiative is suicide
• Skill: Good communication, setting table expectations, rules awareness

4. Warn them about deadly foes (it's OK!)

• Problem: CR is artificial
• Skill: Good communication, trust building

5. Learn how to make easy encounters scary

• Problem: Too-easy encounters can be dull
• Skill: Acting, description, and stakes setting

6. Threaten things they care about, other than their hp and gp

• Problem: Story is more exciting if it's about the characters - less exciting if they're just along for the ride
• Skill: Stakes setting, worldbuilding, character-driven GMing

7. Start each PC turn with stakes narration

• Problem: D&D is designed and balanced for long adventuring days, and we don't want to be forced into those, so classes get unbalanced
• Skill: Put little story decisions in every turn, when you can, to distribute spotlight more fairly

One final example 
(Regular readers know how I love examples!)

Let's say you make a mistake, and you make the goblin sentries too hard.  You use two hobgoblins against a level 1 party.  Hobgoblins happen to be way too dangerous for their 1/2 challenge rating; thanks to their 18 AC and their Martial Advantage trait, two hobgoblins (not a Deadly encounter, per the rules) can kill two first level PCs in the first round of a fight if the dice go even a little in their favor.  Here's an outcome set for all possible outcomes of the too-hard encounter:

• Clear victory (unlikely):  All the PCs survive, and they kill the hobgoblins and save the priest.  A happy reunion!
• Mixed victory:  The PCs kill the hobgoblins and save the priest, but one or more of them sacrificed their lives for this.  If the goal was just to get some gold, this is a lame outcome.  If the PCs saved the priest, but the Acolyte sacrificed her life to save a man who she owes everything to, it makes a tragic, but fitting end.
• Mixed defeat:  The PCs killed one of the hobgoblins, but had to retreat.  Now they have to find out if the hobgoblins killed the hostage or just moved them somewhere more secure.
• Defeat (unlikely):  The PCs failed to save the priest, and some of them died in the fight.  The survivor(s) escaped, and will have to recruit new allies and make another rescue attempt before the hobgoblins give up and kill the hostage.
• Close TPK (incredibly unlikely):  For the encounter to end in a "total party kill," the last PC standing would have to have had enough chance to win on their last action that they thought it was better to take one last shot than to retreat.  The dice didn't go their way, they didn't beat the last hobgoblin, and they got killed by an unlucky roll.  Even this outcome is exciting, because of how close it was and how personal it was.  Also, this situation is very unlikely:  In our example, the Acolyte might die for the priest, but the Criminal and the Warlock won't die for their goals.  And the Soldier may die for their honor, but might decide it's better to retreat and try a different approach than throw their life away.
• Brutal TPK (impossible):  If the PCs' attacks are easily rebuffed and they're getting slaughtered, thanks to #3, above, they could just retreat.  There's no reason to stick around:  The hobgoblins' goal is only to guard their hostage.  There could be other chances to mount a rescue.  There's no reason for all the PCs to die here.  A brutal TPK is not possible.

See?  I just described how a lethal fight is all-but-guaranteed not to end in a TPK if you follow my advice.  You don't even have to figure out how hard the fight is.  You don't need to know that the hobgoblins are way too deadly for CR 1/2.  You don't even need to use Kobold Fight Club or a CR calculation system.  You just pick some monsters and roll with it.  The safeguards you have in place keep things fun.

Run a Game has a Google Assistant app now!

Hey I made an app!  (I'm a "developer" now!)  It's on Google Assistant. 

Here's how you use it.  On Google Assistant (Google Home or the assistant on any newer android device), say or type:

OK Google, talk to Mood and Drama Preference in RPGs

That starts a 4-question "personality quiz" type of thing.  It draws 4 questions from a list of 12 at random, so it's different every time. 

It's just four questions, so it's not a perfect measure.  Not even close!  (It's especially bad at assessing people who don't have a strong preference, sorry!)  Also, you're going to prefer a different mood and different degree of intra-party drama in different games and with different groups of people.

Use the quiz and results during your Session Zero or with your gaming group to start conversations about your preferences.  It's not like it's a real scientific measurement, so it's pretty much only useful for starting conversations with other players.

For example, if you're starting a new Vampire 5th ed game, you might find one player expects tons of intra-party scheming and backstabbing while another wants more of a 90s comic book "superheroes with fangs" gothic-punk horror themed pulp adventure story.  You should probably resolve that ASAP, because clashing expectations can lead to all kinds of trouble.

I can modify and improve this thing, so please send suggestions for how to improve this Mood and Drama Preference in RPGs to @RunAGame on twitter.  I've never developed an app before, and I'm also new to making personality quiz type things.

How to Run an RPG Campaign in 5 Easy Steps

If you want to run an RPG campaign, you ought to do it right.  Here's a simple five step process to run a game that your players will never forget.

Five Steps to a Memorable RPG Campaign

Step 1: The Pitch
Pitch a campaign idea with enough detail that everyone understands the vision (genre, tone, themes, setting, conflicts, main action). This is a conversation, not a dictum - it's their game, too. Make sure everyone is on the same page, you included. (Here's a really old article from this site on making a campaign pitch.)

Step 2: Character Creation
Accept characters that fit the table's shared vision (see #1), and can work together.  (It's probably best if they already know each other).  Make sure all the characters have things they're intensely passionate about - people, places, things, goals, groups - that fit the campaign vision.  Many RPGs have passions baked into character creation. GUMSHOE games ask you to list your sources of stability. 5th edition D&D asks you to describe your Ideal and a personal Bond, etc.  Work within this structure where you can, but make sure to push players to give you real good passions - not cop outs.

Step 3: World Building
Sketch the world roughly with lots of blanks. In it, create major antagonists that have goals that brutally conflict with the PCs' passions (see #2). Give your antagonists stuff: People (henchmen, goons), places (dungeons, cities, lairs, etc.), things (artifacts, rituals), groups (titles, influence, cults, factions), and knowledge (of the PCs, of the future, of the past, of how things work).

Step 4: Starting Setting
Fill in the space close to the PCs in much more detail. This is your "starting village" -- your Tatooine or Emond's Field. Even though I said "much more detail," you should still leave some blanks to fill in as you go. As you fill in, fill it with the stuff the PCs care about (see #2) and the antagonists' stuff (see #3) - especially at least one henchman.

Step 5: Inciting Event
Decide what the local henchmen are up to that will damage the nearby stuff the PCs care about (see #4) and what happens to tip the PCs off to what's going on in time to do something about it (inciting event). Drop the inciting event, then just respond to their actions.

If you followed these steps, the PCs should care intensely about what's going on, because what's going on directly conflicts with their passions. There's no need for railroad tracks - the game is more of a fox hunt than a railroad. The PCs will drive the story, because they told you what they cared about and you made them a game about it.

As they follow leads from the local henchmen to the other stuff your main antagonists have, you just introduce them to more and more henchmen and more and more locations and villain goals (that continue being toxic to the PCs' passions).  The villain goals might shift, too, and get even more personal.  Where "corrupt the church of Ilmater" was their goal before, "Torment [the PC] Jakiri the Cleric of Ilmater by kidnapping the ones he loves" is even more personal.

Not all RPGs work the same way, though.  Here are some important caveats...

RPGs with Structured Adventures 
Many RPGs have internal structures that get in the way of this basic process.  These are RPGs where the game creates a conflict that the game designer or GM pushes on the PCs, rather than one the PCs investigate on their own initiative.  There's nothing wrong with that -- these are fun games. But because the structure is somewhat set ahead of time, we have to add another step.

For instance, in Monster of the Week, you're creating one-off threats for most sessions.  (It's literally in the title.)  In Night's Black Agents, the PCs are burned spies uncovering a conspiracy of vampires.  In Shadowrun, you're often doing black ops jobs for corporations through cutouts called Mr. Johnsons, rather than deciding what passions to pursue, yourselves. These conflicts come baked into their respective games. 

Here's how you deal with that:

First, be honest with your players in step #1.  Explain that they'll be playing Shadowrun (or whatever), and the structure of the game involves getting hired for covert black ops corporate espionage and sabotage jobs (or whatever). 

After that, make sure that you still get a lot of passions in step #2.  Step #3 and #4 are the same. 

Next, step #5 is a little different.  In step #5, you follow the game's baked in structure for an adventure.  You have a werewolf attack the suburban high school; have Mr. Johnson hire the team to steal a briefcase from some corporate scientist; or have the agents investigate a spy that was murdered outside a Bucharest blood bank. Whatever.  You do the thing that the game wants you to do.  But make sure the bad guys know who hurt them.  That's crucial for step #6.

Step 6 (for Structured Adventure RPGs): Now it's Personal!
The first time the PCs win a victory against the antagonists, the antagonists strike back.  They take their revenge on the PCs' passions.  The werewolf moot burns down the Chosen's family's home.  The corp that lost their briefcase sends security goons to "question" the Street Samurai's favorite bartender (he didn't talk, but it cost him three teeth and an eye). The vampires frame the agents for the murder of one of their own beloved contacts.

As you're running the game, continue to use the PCs' passions as stakes whenever you can.  Offer them opportunities to achieve or protect or improve things they care about, and set threats against them.  Make everything as personal as you can.


Character Death and New PCs
If a PC dies in your campaign, their passions die with them.  When the player makes a new character, they come in with all new passions.  How should you handle that?

First of all, reserve character death for only the most extreme circumstances. Because you know the PCs all have strong passions, there are literally fates worse than death in your game.  Use those before you get to character death. 

But even if nobody dies, there are still times new characters appear in your campaigns.  What if someone new joins the group halfway in? 

When you get a new PC, treat it like they're playing a module -- see below.  Tell them all the conflicts going on already and ask them to make a character that feels passionately about one or more of the things at stake in the existing conflicts.  The new PC can have other passions as well, of course.  Work up a new villain plan and new villain stuff (henchmen, prophecies, etc.) that targets those.


An Additional Note on Modules
When you're running a campaign from a module, step #1 is very important.  You need to "all but spoil" a lot of the campaign for your players, so that they can make characters that care about things in it. 

If you're running Curse of Strahd, you need to read the whole thing and help the players make characters that care about the themes and goals they'll eventually have in there.  One should be a vampire hunter.  One should have a sister or wife who looks like the twin to Ireena.  Another should be a priest of Lathander, the Morninglord (in a setting where the sun never shines).  And so forth.

(Here's another really old article from this site on a technique for sowing plot hooks among the PCs.)

How to Start a Game

When you start a game, you need to gather players, find a place to play, read the system, buy some new dice (OK, not everyone does that...), and schedule the first session (or session zero, as it's called).  People run their games in different ways, sure; but this is the ideal way to start a typical adventure or campaign.  You might try variations on this basic structure just to play around with different ideas; but you should follow this structure as close as you can.

Here's how game pitches should start:

1. GM Dreams it up
The GM comes up with the concept for the game. The GM then distills this into a very descriptive, evocative game pitch. A game pitch that has no wizards in it, for instance, maybe about pirates (see the link above).

2. GM Pitches the Game
Next, the GM emails the pitch out or tells the players about it.

3. Players Give Feedback
The players read/hear the pitch and give feedback. The GM listens carefully - not only noting what the players ask for and what they seem to like most; but also what they don't really respond to.  Also, when players give feedback, the GM should assess whether it's feedback one player has, or whether the entire table agrees.  "We don't want to play a game without wizards" says one player.  The other players shrug.  Maybe they were OK with a game without wizards.  Maybe that one player wants to play a wizard.  What's a good compromise?

4. GM Incorporates Feedback
The GM incorporates some of the feedback, to please the majority of the players. If the feedback is really negative, the GM goes "back to the drawing board." But once the GM has made changes - that's the game you're playing. You had your chance to give input.  Note, the GM has to like the game they're running!  No GM should change their campaign concept to one they don't enjoy.  But the players also have to like it.  If the players and GM can't agree, it's time to go back to the drawing board.

5. Players Make Characters
Now the players make characters appropriate for the game described in the (revised) pitch. Their character represents how they want to interact with the pitch. The players also create character hooks (aka backstory, ideals/bonds/flaws, background, known NPCs, and other sorts of things GMs ask for or players write unsolicited).  Those hooks describe what stories they are interested in being involved in.

6. GM Creates Content for the Player Characters
Next, the GM builds some antagonists and settings (or revises and fleshes out the sketched ones he or she already made) based around the players' characters. E.g. if a PC is a Paladin, a holy order needs to be added. If a PC is looking for her lost husband, the NPC husband needs to be written into the setting, and the disappearance needs to be attributed to one of the antagonists.

7. The GM Starts the Adventure or Campaign

Source: Wikimedia Commons

The GM hooks the PCs into the first session using their personal agendas.

You're a Paladin. Your holy order sends you on a mission to a ruined city to find out what mysterious force destroyed it. This woman (other PC) wants to tag along - says she's looking for clues to the whereabouts of her missing husband there.  She's concerned he became mixed up in unlawful magicks.  This mysterious man arranged it so he was assigned to help the Paladin investigate.  The orders are clear:  He will help investigate, and if he finds anything that looks like a book or scroll with strange glyphs, only he is allowed to touch it.  He looks like a wizard.  But no... that can't be.  The wizarding traditions were purged by the holy order a thousand years ago...

Character Death

Today, I present another guest post from Reinhart at Chaos Engineering. This is a two-parter, so stay tuned next week for more on the topic!

Character death: It happens. I think we can all agree that death has a place in stories in roleplaying games, but there are few topics more contentious in gaming. There are plenty of traditionalists who enjoy how characters in D&D and The Call of Cthulhu can die suddenly and without warning. There’s also strong and vocal support across the roleplaying hobby for treating characters as protagonists who are less likely to die a senseless death. Both sides get vilified too much for what is really just a preference in playstyle.

Given the rancor on the subject, you might suspect that these playstyles are incompatible. The thing is, so long as everyone at the table is playing respectfully and talks about it ahead of time, there’s no reason this disagreement has to be a deal breaker. There’s plenty of room for compromise, and if you’re smart, that compromise doesn’t even have to be a zero-sum game.

First of all, if you’re going to find a workable compromise then you need to understand both sides in this tension. A lot of the disrespect I see around this debate is because neither side truly understands the other.

The Case for Random Death

Why would anyone prefer a random death? Well, it comes from a very basic principle of role-playing with dice: play to see what happens. A lot of players enjoy the tension that comes from being uncertain about what is about to happen to their character. Many GM’s enjoy not being in complete control of every situation, and sometimes they need to feel a little less culpable in the decision to remove player characters from the story.

Additionally, random death isn’t so random.  Some people play RPGs to play a game of make-believe instead of to tell a story.  Part of that difference is “what’s there is there.”  In the make-believe game, if there is a death trap there, it’s there; and if the PCs touch the wrong part of it, they will die.  Make-believe style play favors verisimilitude over narrative.

It’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but there’s nothing wrong with wanting and enjoying this style of gaming either.

The Case for a Dramatic Death

Where’s the excitement in a game where you can’t die until the story demands it? If you’re seriously asking that question then you need to go read up on stakes. Just because character death isn’t a lurking threat, doesn’t mean that anything or everything else isn’t up for grabs. The problem with random death is that outside of some expensive D&D spells, it’s pretty damn final. Of all the things that could happen to a character in story, death is probably one of the least interesting because it generally closes off more possibilities than it creates.  

Just as most GM’s run with some basic scenes, challenges, and plot already prepared in mind, many players create characters with potential themes and plot points they want to explore. As a result when the dice end a character prematurely, there can be disappointment with both the player and the GM.

Don’t be a Slave to the Rules

Obviously the players and the GM can always decide to ignore the rules whenever they become inconvenient, but players can find it jarring to just “take back” a roll or consequence like that. It’s generally better to solve the problem before it even starts. Like most RPG issues, the best time to address this is at session zero.

If you and your players all hate random character death, you should probably learn and use a set of rules that don’t emphasize that element. D&D or Call of Cthulhu are great games, but they both have game mechanics that can kill characters without warning. If you don’t want to play that way then maybe pick a game like Fate to tell your story. If you don’t want to learn an entirely new set of rules then perhaps have the players collaborate on crafting their own house-rules for death and dying.

Negotiate the Stakes

Even once you and your players have decided on the rules that best fit your playstyle, there’s still a lot of leeway given to the GM as to when and how character death happens. When a player character heroically runs into a burning building, and the building collapses on them, you don’t have to roll for damage. Their life or death at that moment is should be determined by what makes sense and what is the most interesting result for everyone at the table.

Good GMs are open about the stakes that the players are risking. Let them know when you feel the scene is warranting life or death decisions. “Do you really want to run back into that building? It looks like it could collapse at any moment. It would probably kill you if you got trapped inside now.”

Likewise, during session zero, each player should be very honest about how survivable they expect their characters to be. They don’t all have to agree to this equally, either. One GM that I’ve played Delta Green with suggests that players volunteer for random death by writing “DNR” at the top of their character sheets. When the tension ramps up, those players can usually look forward to a sudden and interesting demise.

I like the DNR house-rule, but as I discussed before just because a player is against a random death doesn’t mean they’re opposed to a dramatic death. For that reason I like negotiating the terms of character death openly when discussing a player’s goals for a character:

• How do you see your character ending up in this campaign?
• What would be a suitable heroic arc?
• How could it turn tragic?

These questions aren’t just there for me to help direct the story, but also to help the player anticipate and recognize what fates are appropriate for their character. Many players accept an eventual demise better when they’ve already accomplished some of their goals and their doom conforms with how they expected their character to die.

Pacing Your Doom

Even if everyone is alright with the rules and dramatic circumstances that govern their demise, there’s still a certain combination of logistics and art to determining when to kill of a character. If your player characters really can drop out of the story at any moment, make sure that players have a developed replacement character. If you and your player characters like to have developed backstories and lead-ins for your player characters then that means perhaps there should be occasional insertions of the back-up characters into the narrative before they’re eventually needed.

Regardless of whether death in your game is random or dramatically orchestrated, it tends to leave one player with less to do and a lot less to get engaged with. For that reason it’s best to plan for death near the conclusion of a session or adventure. For those of you letting the dice determine this, that means planning and designing your adventure so that more lethal threats are introduced later and near important milestones. Players are generally more accepting of their characters being murdered by the villain of the plot than they are by a random owlbear they tripped over in the woods.

Do it Right

A player’s character is often the only way that the player can interact with the shared imagined world of your RPG.  Few systems allow players to manipulate events or storylines without a character.  So death is a big deal.  Death is “game over - at least for now” for a player.  Using session zero, thinking about what mode of character death you want to include in your game, preparing for the type of game you want to run (and doing it right), and taking care not to waste your players’ time all contribute to solid GM skills -- regardless of how you want to run character death.

This is part 1 of a two-part series. Stay tuned for Part 2: Death Omens - a house rule for nearly any RPG that might satisfy all types of players!

Party Conflict in RPGs

Five Flavors of Intra-Party Conflict

Intra-party conflict in RPGs commonly comes in five different “flavors.”

1. Organic Disagreement
2. Explicit Competition
3. Traitor as PC-NPC
4. Clashing Ideals
5. Director Stance

For each, I’m going to describe the conflict, how it’s used, and what dangers are inherent in it.  I will then offer a tip for GMs who find themselves refereeing that conflict.  It’s tricky, handling party treason.

Benedict Arnold: Iconic American traitor

My philosophical stance that underlies these tips is that we play RPGs to have fun, and that the GM’s job is to facilitate a fun, exciting game.  You don’t facilitate a player vs. player conflict; you referee it or prevent it so that you can facilitate a fun dramatic moment between characters - not an un-fun conflict between players.  I recognize that other GMs have different ideas about this, but I respectfully disagree with them.

Organic Disagreement

Key concepts review:  

• Immersion
• Frame and Stance
• Magic Circle and Bleed

The most common conflict occurs when the players, immersed in actor stance, have an in-character disagreement.  The disagreement rises to a serious conflict that could be overcome by stepping back from the game world frame into the social or game frame and discussing OOC reasons why the inciting player chose the actions they did for their character.  But for any number of reasons, the players don’t do that.  A common reason is that it’s fun to have a row in character -- though different players tolerate this to different degrees, so be careful!  Other possible reasons include authorial independence:  Where a player prioritizes control over their character’s actions over party harmony, e.g. “This is how my character would act, and I don’t want your OOC concerns affecting my decisions about my character’s actions.”  

In organic disagreements, conflict is player vs. player and character vs. character at the same time, because the players are fully immersed in the game world frame / actor stance.  When players’ autonomy over their own characters is so strong that they act in character without OOC consideration for one another as players, there is (by definition) no social contract that says that the players will choose character actions that will not hurt the feelings of other players.  

GM Tip:  Priorities, people!  When organic conflict arises, remind the players that they are all friends, and it should be OK to sacrifice a little autonomy over their characters’ actions in order to avoid annoying their friends around the table.  This establishes a norm of respecting each other as players first, and respecting each other’s autonomy over their character second.  

Explicit Competition

Key concepts review:

• The Pitch or Session Zero
• Elysium Style LARP (1, 2)
• The Horror-Hunter Ladder (Mood)

Some RPGs are pitched as explicitly competitive adventures or campaigns, where the PCs are forced to work together, but have their own, competing agendas.  This is a common style for games like Vampire and Ars Magica, and for Elysium Style LARP (which arose from Vampire).  At the start of the game, the GM ensures that all the players accept the competitive premise and design characters who will be fun to play in that sort of scenario.  Players can choose to play characters out to win, out to fail horribly, out to be sympathetic underdogs caught in the fray, or doomed heroes who put themselves above the fray, and are torn apart as a result.  These games are rarely at the Hero rung or higher for mood.

In explicit competition, the conflict is player vs. player, where the competitive skill of the players determines the final outcome.  Will Andy’s character become Prince?  Or will Betty’s?  Because of the explicit nature of the game, the conflict is an accepted part of the game frame understanding of events, and does not affect the social frame relationship between the players.  

GM Tip:  Just because the players accept a competitive premise doesn’t mean they’ll take losing well.  Anyone can be a sore loser, and sometimes they’re justified (such as when a player exploits a rules loophole to win the conflict).  GMs should make sure to be a fair referees in explicitly competitive games; and when players win unfairly, GMs should shift the blame to themselves and act to restore fairness somehow.  (It’s a hard balancing act!  Just look at all the drama in Vampire LARP communities!)

Traitor PC-NPC

Sub-types of this flavor of betrayal are the key concepts to review:

• Face-Heel Turn, where the traitor is initially loyal, then changes sides
• Subtrope: Forced Into Evil, which happens when a character is taken over by the GM due to madness, mind control, possession, etc. (see Director Stance, below)
• Subtrope: Face-Monster Turn, which is where the character is turned permanently into a monster, such as by a vampire bite, werewolf curse, etc.
• The Mole, where the traitor was a traitor all along

Perhaps the most common (and easiest) way to handle party betrayal in a Hero-rung game or higher is to allow a party traitor, but treat it like that player is playing an NPC.  The PC-NPC acts like a typical PC while adventuring with the party, until their treason is revealed.  At that point, there is a final confrontation, and the traitor is killed or escapes to become an NPC.  Regardless, once the traitor’s actions are no longer secret, the traitor’s player has to make a new character.  This is a good way to handle party traitors in D&D and similar heroic-mood RPG scenarios.

Because the traitor player is acting with the permission of the GM in the role of a party antagonist, the treason is acceptable.  The conflict is character vs. character.  The GM uses their power to maintain the traitor’s secrecy until the climactic betrayal, at which point the GM uses their power to turn the traitor PC into an NPC.  The traitor’s player is seen as helping the GM make the game more fun, rather than betraying the other players.  This makes it acceptable within the game frame, in the same way that the GM using an NPC to betray the other player characters is acceptable.

GM Tip:  This is probably the most tame kind of intra-party conflict.  But some players are sensitive to any disharmony in the group, or just don’t like surprises.  In the pitch, make sure the players know that there might be a party traitor.  Then they’ll be eagerly anticipating the climactic betrayal, instead of surprised and unhappy about it.  Also, make sure to let the betrayed characters can get their revenge against the traitor.  Otherwise, there could be some bleed-out resentment.

Clashing Ideals

Key concept review:

• Plot Hooks

In just about any kind of game up to (but not including) the superhero rung, the GM can engineer a situation where any solution the PCs seek inevitably harms another PC’s agenda.  In that case, the players must choose how they’ll handle it.  Their choices vary between extreme harmony and extreme disharmony:

• With extreme harmony, the PCs negotiate and come to a consensus on their solution.  “OK, we’ll go with Andy’s tactic, but that will hurt Betty’s agenda.  So next chance we get, we’ll go make it right, fix the damage we did, and try to advance her agenda.”  In this case, they accept a difficult negotiation, followed by a fairly harmonious reconciliation.
• With extreme disharmony, one or a group of PCs seize the initiative and act on their own, choosing an option that hurts another character’s agenda.  Then they have a long, hard road to reconciliation afterwards.  “It’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission,” is not always true!

This sort of conflict is designed to create dramatic character vs. character conflict within the party temporarily.  The players, acting in character, have to negotiate both the resolution of the challenge (who gets the shaft?) and the reconciliation of the conflict (how can the shafted PC forgive the others?).  The players usually have OOC motives here (that’s what hooks are, after all - expressions of OOC motives), and might suffer some bleed-out into player vs. player conflict if they cannot come to a solution that satisfies all the players.  Ironically, there might be bleed-in later as a player might be offended by being shafted, and become more unforgiving than their character would be.

GM Tip:  If the players cannot come to an agreement in character, ask them to talk about it out of character.  If they cannot come to an agreement out of character, you have to modify the situation so that they can.  It’s always better to retcon something than to have the players hate each other (and you) for putting them in a spot they’re uncomfortable with OOC, as humans with friendships and feelings.

Director Stance

Key concept review:

• Flaws as author stance empowerment

Many RPGs encourage director stance character vs. character (instead of player vs. player) conflict.  Fiasco is entirely based on it.  Fate has a Compel mechanic that allows players and GMs to make each other act irresponsibly and possibly against party interests.  Indie RPG Unsung has this mechanic as well. Many RPGs have forced-behavior mechanics such as Flaws (Champions, World of Darkness) or stress mechanics (Call of Cthulhu, Werewolf: the Apocalypse) that cause characters to act irrationally.  When the system forces a character to act against the party interest, the player is not at fault, making it an author or director stance decision.  

The conflict here is explicitly character vs. character.  The players are fully aware that the player whose character commits treason against the party is acting based on author or director stance, game frame, impulses.  Events proceed from the understanding that the character acted irresponsibly or selfishly, not the player, and the conflict never bleeds out of the game world frame.

GM Tip:  Most games with mechanics that compel other players’ behavior usually have a pressure-release valve in the form of a veto of some kind.  Even where there is no veto, if a player is uncomfortable being forced into a decision for their character that they are unhappy with, use your GM fiat to undo the mechanical compulsion, fudge a roll, or ignore the rule.  It’s better to cheat a little than to ruin someone’s fun.