When You Alter Or Ignore Rules, It Changes The Game's Challenge

All of us are familiar with the first rule of RPGs (or the 0th rule, depending on how you count)... namely that if you don't care for a particular rule that you can just change it, replace it, or even toss it out entirely at your table. It's been my experience, though, that a lot of players and Game Masters take this as carte blanche to do whatever they want, but then they're surprised when the minor change they thought they were making ends up being the flapping butterfly wing that leads to a completely unexpected monsoon in another area of the game!

So, while you are absolutely free to change, ignore, or otherwise customize your gaming experience when playing an RPG, it's a good idea to ask why a particular rule exists in the first place, and how this alteration is going to affect things going forward.

No movement penalty? Oh I'm comin' for ya!

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Change The Rules, Change The Game

I will be the first to admit, rule changes are not inherently bad. Even the professionals sometimes get things wrong, or maybe you just want to simplify something in a way that doesn't boomerang back and smack you in the head as a GM because the deeper changes to the rules never have an effect on the monsters you use, or the characters and classes your players pick. But it is important to stop and ask why certain rules exist the way they do, and to ask yourself what removing those rules does to the challenge of the game, but also to the balance you're working with.

For example, let's talk about wizards.

Say you're running a wizard in the first edition of Pathfinder, or in the 3.5 edition of Dungeons and Dragons (this example might work for other games and other editions, but I don't want to make assertions I'm not fully confident about). So, you are a prepared caster, and you need your spellbook in order to properly prepare your spells every day. That spellbook is both your advantage (since you can learn new spells from other books, and from magic scrolls), but it is also your weakness. If something happens to that item, you are in deep shit, as you can't refresh your spells until you come across a new book.

Most GMs aren't big enough dicks to deliberately target a wizard's spellbook, as that is a surefire way to upset and frustrate a player. However, even if you don't have goblins trying to snatch it away, or enemy wizards casting disintigrate on the book, there are a slew of other rules that we often ignore regarding this jarring weakness. For example, if a character winds up in the midst of an area of effect spell, like fireball, they're supposed to roll saves for particular possessions on their person... and for wizards, that often means a spellbook. There's also the question of what happens when a character's possessions are exposed to the elements, such as when they're thrown overboard into the ocean, trapped in a downpour, or just fording a river on their journey. All of these situations have rules that can affect character possessions (scrolls, black powder, alchemical items, rations, etc.), including one's spellbook.

This is the reason (not to shake my walking stick at the clouds) there were so many alternatives for wizards specifically, and for other prepared arcane casters in general. There were warded spellbooks, spellbooks made of specific materials, spells that kept your spellbook safe in a pocket dimension where it wouldn't be affected, tattooed spellbooks that would be safe as long as you didn't get your skin flayed off, and it was why some campaigns just gave you thick tomes of extra spells that you could use to copy over your existing spells, ensuring you had a copy back at the cart, the inn, your castle, etc. if something happened to your in-the-field grimoire.

A lot of us ignore these rules entirely for making separate saves for player equipment when they're exposed to particular hazards. And on the one hand, yes, that means wizards, magi, and similar characters don't have to worry about a single bad roll taking away an item they need. That also means they aren't spending their resources to ensure their books are safe from harm, and that they have back-ups in case something happens. It also means that the advantages of other casting classes like the sorcerer (who requires no spellbook, and often doesn't even require material components) are far less powerful by comparison.

I've run the numbers here... they check out.

This doesn't just apply to the one, specific example I listed. It also happens when you ignore rules that say spellcasters need one hand to hold a focus component, and one hand to make somatic gestures. This undercuts special class features and powers that let weapons, shields, etc. double as necessary components to free up a character's hands. Ignoring the requirements of a holy symbol for divine casters (something that is also subject to the above rules for environmental damage in many cases) devalues features that may give you tattooed or birthmark symbols that can't be destroyed so easily, or which may free up a character's hands for other actions. It happens when you completely ignore encumberance rules, and you have your party carrying a literal ton of magic and alchemical items into the next dungeon, and it happens when you don't bother keeping track of ammunition (special or otherwise), and you wonder why the long-ranged characters have such a major advantage.

Again, we can all run our games however we want to. It is important to remember, though, that game designers don't just make up rules to fill more pages and expand our book so it looks more impressive... rules are made to solve issues in the system. Kind of like the safety precautions you're supposed to follow at work. Yes, they might be annoying, or you might wish you could ignore them, but the powers-that-be required that rule because the boss kept putting barrels of toxic waste in the crew's sleeping quarters, or the machinery kept ripping off people's fingers... the alterations were made for a reason.

The easiest way to find out what that reason was is to ignore the rule, and see what happens as a result!

Players Change To Reflect The Rules

This isn't a white room thought experiment, either. If the rules shift, that has the potential to encourage players to use different avenues and mechanics to reach their goals. I told a story about this very thing happening in real-time in episode 34 of Discussions of Darkness, How Rule 0 Creates Ripples in Playstyles.

This warning is basically the other side of the coin. Because the examples I talked about in the previous section were all things that GMs could do to throw players a bone, and relieve the burden/pressure on certain classes or characters... however, when you institute rules to limit the effectiveness of particular options to control player behavior, players often find alternatives and workarounds in directions you might not have expected them to go.

For those who don't have time to listen to the full story in the video, it was about how Minds Eye Society limited the damage a single character could do in one strike. 5 levels of lethal damage was the universal cap, regardless of what someone's powers were, what magic items were play, etc. Whether it was a mortal security guard who got off a lucky shot, or a Promethean who threw an exploding tanker truck at someone, 5 levels of damage was the most that could be done... and since an average character has 7 levels of health, and 6 at a minimum, it became impossible to kill anyone outright with one attack. So players started investing in the ability to hire goon squads of their own, bringing teams of characters with tooled-up armories as back up and fire support. Because no one of them could deal a death blow... but if you have 10 elite troopers at your side, and you also get into the fray, well, now you've got superior firepower and a bunch of extra attacks on your side of the fight.

Change Requires The Whole Table

We usually think of rule changes as something the Game Master does, and that players have to deal with, for good or for ill. However, changing the rules of the game is something that should be done with the consensus of all players. If you want to change things up, explain why you think a rule isn't working, what you'd like to do instead, and make sure everyone has buy-in for it. Also, make sure that you make it clear that if this change doesn't work, or creates more problems than it solves, this is something you can come back to in the future and talk about more.

I've said this before, but it bears repeating. Everyone at the table needs to be playing the same game, and rule changes should be made with the consent of everyone so that each person believes this is more fun (and potentially more fair) than the system that's already in place. And while not every change is going to work, everyone should be onboard for it, and be part of the discussion for how to structure the game you're all playing.

Lastly, if you're looking for some extra reading along these lines, consider checking out my ice cover supplements 100 Tips And Tricks For Being A Better Game Master, and the sequel I wrote soon after 100 Tips And Tricks For Being A Better RPG Player.

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Again, for more of my work, check out my Vocal archive, and stop by the Azukail Games YouTube channel, or my Rumble channel The Literary Mercenary! Or if you'd prefer to read some of my books, like my dystopian sci-fi thriller Old Soldiers, my hardboiled gangland noir series starring a bruiser of a Maine Coon with Marked Territory and Painted Cats, my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife or my latest short story collection The Rejects, then head over to My Amazon Author Page!

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5 Challenges You Have To Deal With in Every Pathfinder Adventure Path

Though I've been playing Pathfinder for years now, I've only completed a handful of the campaigns Paizo has produced. At time of writing I've crossed off Curse of The Crimson Throne, Mummy's Mask, Carrion Crown, and Rise of The Runelords, and while there's plenty more for me to do, I wanted to weigh in on something this week. Because every adventure path I've played (and every homebrew campaign too, if I'm honest) will have certain challenges you need to plan for. Having the counter to the following situations is often the difference between victory and defeat.

So without further ado...

#1: Flying Enemies

The sorceress has what? Oh son of a bitch...

As someone who loves nothing more than playing a melee bruiser with a great weapon, this is one I've felt the pain of more times than I can count. Whether it's gargoyles that swoop down out of the darkness to slash at you before flapping away again, or a necromancer that hovers up out of convenient smashing range, you are going to have to deal with a lot of flying enemies in any Pathfinder game.

My experience is that these threats can start as early as 2nd level (with small enemies like imps and quasits), but that by level 4-5 it's going to become fairly common. By the time you hit double digit levels, you should assume that every lieutenant villain can probably fly, and that every big boss is going to take to their air as soon as the party enters their lair.

How To Deal With It

The easiest way to deal with this issue at lower levels is to make sure you've got a spell/wand up your sleeve, or a crossbow slung on your back. Even if you're not playing a character who's specialized in archery, being able to send an arrow up at a manticore or a dragon can make a big difference.

Alternatively, you need to have some means to get yourself airborne. Whether it's having a party member cast fly on you, keeping a potion in your bandolier, getting a magic item like boots or armor that gives you a flight speed, or playing a race like aasimar, strix, etc. that can gain a flight speed through a trait or a feat, anything that puts you on equal footing with the enemy levels the playing field. This option is harder, and more expensive, but a lot more viable if you're a melee brute who wants to charge into battle sword-swinging like a Renaissance painting of a war in heaven.

#2: Damage Reduction

The golem doesn't seem to register that you actually hit it.

There are few things more frustrating than building up a character who packs a wallop, only to come up across an enemy that can shrug off your mightiest blows like they were butterfly kisses.

Again, this is a threat that will vary depending on the game in question. You can deal with this as early as 1st and 2nd level (again with tiny flitting nuisances like quasits or with undead like skeletons), but it grows far more common by level 4 or 5. From demons and devils to werewolves, living statues, and other hard-to-hurt creatures, damage reduction is one of the primary defenses you're going to have to overcome.

How To Deal With It

At early levels the most common form of damage reduction you're going to run into is against bludgeoning, piercing, or slashing weapon damage. So your best bet is to have one of every kind on-hand, just in case. Weapons that deal two kinds of damage, like a morning star or spiked gauntlet (bludgeoning and piercing), or a dagger (slashing and piercing) are ideal in this situation. If you're doing a lot of ranged attacking, Clustered Shots is a feat that will save your life as it allows you to deal all your damage from your iterative attacks, and just remove the DR once rather than on every hit.

When you start getting into more specific damage reduction that requires things like silver, cold iron, magic, certain alignment, etc., that's when things get tougher. If you're in a game with a lot of evil enemies, the easy fix is a paladin (since smite ignores all of a target's damage reduction). And while you can invest in materials like adamantine, silver, cold iron, and so forth for your weapons, there's actually a trick a lot of us overlook.

As page 562 of the Core Rulebook points out, the more powerful your weapon's enhancement bonus is, the more forms of DR it ignores. If you have a +3 weapon, it ignores silver and cold iron DR. A +4 weapon also ignores adamantine. A +5 weapon ignores alignment-based DR. While getting a +5 magic weapon isn't easy, classes like the paladin, magus, warpriest, etc. who can enhance their weapons with bonus enchantments during combat can most easily take advantage of this particular strategy.

#3: Energy Resistance

It's what kind of elemental? Ah shit...

This one varies a lot more than some others on the list, but my experience is that it starts becoming a real issue around level 5 or so. Because while there are going to be plenty of enemies who are just human bandits, or orc raiders, or goblins, that 4-5 range is when you start dealing with summoned devils, native outsiders, elemental creatures, and so on, and so forth. By the time you hit higher levels you're dealing with dragons and fiends, and that's when we have enemies who are immune to certain elements, rather than simply being resistant.

And that can put a big cramp in your style.

How To Deal With It

The first option is to pick an element that the fewest possible enemies are immune/resistant to. Sonic damage is one that rarely crops up, while fire and cold are perhaps the most common, quickly followed by electricity. Acid is hit or miss, but the deeper underground you go, the more things will be resistant or immune to acid as well.

A more functional approach is to ensure you have some way to switch the elemental damage you're flinging around so you can key it to the fight you're actually in. Elemental bloodline sorcerers, as a prime example, can swap any element in a spell to their bloodline element, which gives them some wiggle room. Alternatively, simply filling different spell slots with different elements ensures that you've got a wider bag of tricks to pull from. If you're a class that can add enhancements to their weapons, like the ones mentioned previously, it's best to change-up the formula based on what enemies you're actually dealing with.

Lastly, remember to keep other options on-hand. Debuffing spells can often reduce an enemy's defenses, allowing the rest of the party to gain the upper hand in a fight where your duties as an artillery piece won't get the job done.

#4: Ability Damage

Yes, Samantha, three wisdom damage for you.

The bane of combatants and cleric-less parties everywhere, ability damage (and its omega-form, ability drain) are going to come at you sooner or later. If you're in a game with a lot of undead you could be dealing with this at fairly low levels. Damage starts getting converted to drain somewhere around levels 11-13, and it might come from poison, spells, special abilities, or any of a slew of other things.

But while we all hate it, it's going to happen. So we'd best be prepped for it.

How To Deal With It

The simple answer is to make sure you've got a cleric, an oracle, or someone else in your party that can cure that damage/drain when it occurs. Lesser restoration isn't too bad as far as cost, but actual restoration can get pricey if you're constantly getting in front of serious trauma that ticks down your Strength, Constitution, or even your level!

Alternatively, make sure you have defenses in place to either negate this hit in the first place, or which allow you to ignore the negatives.

I mentioned a lot of these in 5 Ways To Sidestep Hits in Pathfinder (Without Magic), but they can be literal life savers in these circumstances. Devils that can deal Constitution drain with a touch attack can't land that blow if your swashbuckler parries the hit. The necromancer's enervation isn't going to land if the fighter has the Ray Shield feat. The poison arrow that would deal Dexterity drain has no effect on the hag bloodline bloodrager who's immune to poison. And the dhampir can just shrug off negative level penalties as if they aren't there at all... at least until the effects kill them.

Unless you're in an undead-centric campaign, you probably don't need to build your character around avoiding this kind of harm. It is going to crop up, though, which is why you need to be prepared to deal with it when it eventually rears its ugly head.

#5: Mind Control

Who knows what dangers lurks in this campaign? The Shadow knows...

This happens in every, single adventure path I've played through. The party walks into the villain's lair, the villain casts their first spell. The fighter, barbarian, ranger, etc. suddenly decides the rest of the party is their enemy, turns and begins doing their very best to kill their allies. It's one of the most frustrating situations you could deal with, because it has all the negative emotions attached to PvP, but it's initiated by the bad guys.

The baby version of this is when players are hit by spells like confusion which can leave them sidelined for the fight. One of the more common versions of this is a vampire's dominate ability (a CR 9 creature), but more potent enchantments and compulsions will become an issue typically around level 11-13 or so. And it's something you've got to be prepared to deal with.

How To Deal With It

Again, the easy answer is to play a paladin. This class is a force of "no," and one of their biggest advantages is their ability to ignore mind control and enchantments at higher levels, and to ignore fear effects fairly early on. They also bolster the saves of their allies with their aura, which can be a huge boon.

That said, the next best thing to playing a character with their own personal immunities is to make sure that you always have a protection from evil (or whatever alignment you're facing if evil isn't applicable) spell ready to hand. Whether it's a wand, a potion, a spell-like ability, or a mass cast from the cleric, warpriest, abjurer, etc., this spell is a literal life saver. In addition to the small bonus it gives to your AC and saves, and the fact that summoned evil creatures can't physically touch you, it means you're immune to outside mind control effects if you get the shield up soon enough. Even if you don't, and the fighter is starting to turn on the party, you can hit them with the spell to grant them another save, and a bonus to help mitigate the damage.

Other than that, dispel magic is always a good spell to have on-hand, and if you want to bring in elements of a wizard's duel you could try to counterspell the caster. That gets into who's got the higher initiative, though, and that may not be a strategy you want to use if this is only an occasional threat that you want to prevent with an easy-access, low-level protective spell.

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That's all for this week's Crunch topic! For more of my work, check out my Vocal archive, and stop by the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio! Or if you'd like to read some of my books, like my alley cat noir novel Marked Territory, my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife or my latest short story collection The Rejects, head over to My Amazon Author Page!

To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter, and now on Pinterest as well! And if you'd like to help support me and my work, consider Buying Me A Ko-Fi or heading over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a regular, monthly patron! Even a little bit of help can go a long way, trust me on that one.

Party Balance is Mostly a Myth. Instead, Ask How You're Challenging The Party

A concept that I've seen a lot of DMs talk about from games all across the board is the idea of party balance. One member of the party is too good at something, or one member is falling behind everyone else, so they feel like the have to somehow bring the PCs more in-line with one another. Maybe they want to nerf some of the fighter's abilities so they don't deal so much damage, or they want to take away the wizard's access to certain spells. Maybe they want to completely remove sneak attack, smite, or rage because it's throwing off the balance.

I say this now, knowing that it is not a popular opinion in some circles. Stop that. If one player picks a role and chooses the abilities, equipment, feats, etc. to excel in that role, do not punish them for that. Instead, you should be focused on the overall challenge that your party is facing, and asking what you can do to make sure that everyone is contributing, and working together.

Well... that's that encounter, I guess...

You Worry About Your Side of The Screen

As the dungeon master, you have the ability to alter time and space, and to craft challenges to suit the party that's actually at your table. And having both been a dungeon master, and run my share of campaigns, I can tell you there is often nothing easier than presenting a challenge where everyone can participate, contrary to popular belief.

Trust me, the numbers are in your favor, here.

Let's take one of the more common scenarios where people decry "balance" as an issue; one member of the party deals significantly more damage than everyone else, and almost never misses due to a particularly high attack bonus. As such, whenever there's a fight, they slay the enemy before anyone else gets a chance to do anything. Now you're frustrated because if you bring in an enemy powerful enough to stand up to the fighter, the barbarian, the paladin, or whoever is your party's heavy hitter, it's going to be too strong for the rest of the party to handle.

That is not actually a problem. All you have to do is provide more than one enemy, and suddenly you have gone from one monster getting gut checked into the stratosphere, to a team V. team scenario.

This is, and I speak no hyperbole, the most basic fix that a majority of DMs seem to completely gloss over when looking for other options. Because even if your party's heavy hitter is a monster truck that runs on the blood of the innocent, they cannot be everywhere at once. So even if you have a demonic champion in black armor with a balefire sword, all it takes is throwing in some hellhounds, or a small contingent of winged demons, and now everyone has a dance partner. The archer can shoot down the fliers, the bard can provide inspiration and sling spells, the rogue can take advantage of distracted foes to down them, and so on, and so forth.

You should know who in the party is capable of doing what, and make room in the adventure so that everyone can shine. Give the scholars opportunities to use their knowledge, and to find secrets that aid their companions. Give the melee bruisers plenty of chances to flex, have some chances for the skulkers to sneak around and be stealthy, and be sure the ranged specialists get an occasional Legolas moment here and there.

But don't expect one member of the party to be able to handle someone else's job. Because that's why you have a party in the first place.

Everything is Strong in Some Circumstances

Every character will have scenarios where they are at their best, and others where they are... shall we say less useful.

Some are less useful than others.

The most obvious scenario is your paladins and rangers. If you're fighting undead and demons, a paladin is going to be at their most powerful. If the ranger is facing off against their favored enemies, they become holy terrors. But take them out of that scenario, and they are nowhere near as potent. They can still hold their own against a team of neutral mercenaries, or automatons, but they aren't going to shred through the encounter the way they otherwise would.

But what about scenarios where you need to find traps? Lie to guards? Find a hidden route into a fortress? Identify the different pieces of a spell? Win the attention and friendship of a noble patron? These things may not be the scenarios where those characters' skill sets shine.

I said this back in Challenge Rating is Just a Number, but it bears repeating; every character is going to shine in the scenarios where its abilities are more effective. When designing a challenge for your players, you need to ask who is going to be in the spotlight for a particular situation, and to make sure that even if one person is taking point on it, the others can still participate.

Because even if the barbarian is rushing in, greatax swinging, they shouldn't be able to solo a fight. The wizard or the sorcerer, with all their arcane might, should not be able to conquer the enemy fortress without the aid of their companions. The bard and the rogue, with all their skill and guile, shouldn't be able to handle a challenge without their companions to watch their backs.

The party exists because no one character should be able to handle every, single challenge. Each member should have something unique they contribute, and as a dungeon master you should worry more about ensuring the challenge you offer has something for everyone, and less about whether one particular character is "too good" at one thing.

Because that's their role... but it shouldn't be the only role that needs to be filled for the story to progress.

Also, while I have the DMs here, check out my latest supplement 100 Secret Societies from Azukail Games! It's already gone Copper at time of writing, and whether you need organizations to help or hinder your party, there's something to get the wheels turning between these pages.

Like, Follow, and Stay in Touch!

That's all for this week's Moon Pope Monday!

Again, for more of my work, check out my Vocal archive, and stop by the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio. Or if you'd prefer to read some of my books, like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife or my latest short story collection The Rejects, then head over to My Amazon Author Page!

To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter, and now Pinterest as well! To support my work, consider Buying Me a Ko-Fi, or heading to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a regular, monthly patron. That one helps ensure you get more Improved Initiative, and it means you'll get my regular, monthly giveaways as a bonus!

DMs, Think Outside Traditional Templates (Orcs Can Be Vampires, Too, You Know!)

A while ago I came across a forum post from a DM asking for help. The situation was that he had a vampire as the big bad of the current arc of his campaign in Golarion, and he wanted it to be sort of a mystery as to who the leech was. The problem was that as soon as the players walked into the local tavern, they saw the lord of the manor seated near the fire with his manservant. He was tall, angular, pale, with a high widow's peak, a commanding presence, and he didn't seem to eat anything.

And when the party trigged that the baron was the vampire? Well, the DM didn't know what to do.

Well, making it someone less obvious might have helped.

Now, there were all sorts of things the DM could have done here, but pretty much all of them boil down to, "Don't make the vampire the most obvious guy in the room!" The most common suggestion was to make the lord a servant to the vampire, but have his "manservant" be the actual vampire. With all the eyes focused on the baron, no one would have noticed someone so lowly and unimportant. A few folks suggested going a step further, and making the vampire the innkeeper, or a traveling merchant, but mostly the consensus was to make it the guy standing next to the most suspicious dude in the room.

All I could think, looking at that setup, was that the vampire should not only have been someone different, but someone that no one in the party would have expected based on trope and stereotype. For example... what about the soldier of fortune from the Mwangi Expanse? Or the traveling mystic from the Dragon Empire? Why not the Varisian fortune teller, or the Taldan tinker?

While those were all fine options, it eventually struck me that vampire is a template we can apply to any living creature. So while changing the nationality into something we don't expect a traditional vampire to be, that's just the tip of the ice berg (and one I explored in The Draugr's Bastard, An Unexpected Dhampir). The vampire could have been nearly any fantasy race as well... and that idea opened up all kinds of possibilities that I think DMs often overlook.

Step Outside The Box, And See What You Can Make

The first scenario that came to my mind was a small army of orc sellswords, led by Garrak Blooddrinker. A huge, heavily muscled brute, Garrak has a vicious bite, and he often tears out the throat of his victims on the battlefield. It's said he drinks the blood of his enemies from a goblet made from a jeweled skull, and that he avoids the daylight like the plague. His eyes are bright red, and glow in the dark when he rages across the field, encarmined sword in hand.

Because why wouldn't an orc war master be a vampire? All the clues are there, but because we think, "Ah, he's just an orc, that's what orcs do!" it has the potential to teach a valuable lesson. Take nothing at face value, and always ask if what you're seeing might mean more.

And then my mind went to silly places.

At that point, I asked why one would stop with vampires? There are dozens (if not hundreds) of templates in Pathfinder alone, so why apply them only to traditional, predictable circumstances? Because sure, we expect an alchemically quickened creature in a crumbling castle full of bizarre laboratories... but why not apply the template to a tiefling assassin who stalks the party on behalf of his unknown masters? The apostle kyton is a terror to behold, but to add some extra horror, why not add it to an aasimar to create a true perversion of celestial beauty? If your players are raiding the ruins of a giant's tomb, why not have stone giant mummies? Or boreal lizardfolk who hunt the frozen peaks of the northern mountains? Why not make fire giant werewolves who command packs of hellhounds?

With so many options, and so much potential, why do we limit our thinking when it comes to our monsters? Make something new, or unexpected, and you might be surprised at the reactions you get from your table. If nothing else, you'll teach your players to make Knowledge checks to be sure they aren't overlooking a big hazard.

And for more fun on templates, and resurrecting fallen minions, check out this advice from the Dungeon Keeper!

That's all for this week's Moon Pope Monday update. Hopefully it gave fuel to the fire, and has some folks thinking about what to do with their monsters in the near future. If you'd like more content from yours truly, check out my Vocal archive, or head over to the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio where I put shows and skits together with other, talented gamers. To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. Lastly, if you want to help me keep doing what I'm doing, consider heading over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a patron. Or, if you'd rather do a one-time tip, you could just Buy Me A Coffee. Either way, I'll be happy to send you some sweet gaming swag as a thank you!

The Tale of Adolph The Red-Eyed Reindeer

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

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

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

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

The Crew

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

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

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

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

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

This will become important later on in this story.

The Quest

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

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

Sadly, we didn't get the appropriate war rig that Skrewe would have built, given advanced warning.

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

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

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

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

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

CR Isn't Always Just A Number

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

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

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

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

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

Roll initiative, bitch!

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

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

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

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

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

The Aftermath

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

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

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

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

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

Time is of The Essence When it Comes to Challenge in RPGs

The gnoll guards hadn't been sleeping at their posts, and they put up a fight. Brevalder nearly lost a hand to one of their axes, and Firan spent several of the spells he'd carefully prepared ensuring the hyena men were kept silent. When the bloodletting was done, and the heroes had healed their wounds, they did the only thing that made sense after they'd kicked in the door of the slaver's stronghold...

They trekked right back into the desert to camp, sleep, and rest so they could come back with full resources tomorrow.

Uh... guys? Are you going to finish this dungeon some time in the next week?

How many times have you seen this scenario happen? The party gets loaded for bear, goes in full-force, and then as soon as an encounter is complete they go recharge all their powers. Sure, out-of-game that's a matter of a few minutes, essentially hitting the reset button on your dungeon delve. In-game, though, it means there's a lot of time between that fight you had yesterday, and the party wading back into the same area looking for trouble.

It's important to remember that time is just one more resource players have to balance, and if they squander it then there should be consequences.

Time Changes Everything

Take one of the most common scenarios in all of fantasy gaming; the party has to go to a certain place, and perform a certain action. Maybe they're heading to the ruins of Rakesh, hoping to locate a legendary sword that vanished beneath the sands. Perhaps they're traveling to Black Pond to sort out the local warlord who's been razing towns and farmland. Or they're just moving along the coast road to the capital of whatever nation they happen to be in right then.

Most of the time, the challenges from travel can be circumvented with relative ease. A few Survival checks, buying enough food, and managing to sidestep bad weather can make journeys little more than 5-minute exposition. Even if you're using random encounters, they can become trivial after a while. But what if your party doesn't have the luxury of walking for a short time, then resting to recuperate?

Brew a pot, boys, we're pulling an all-nighter!

For example, what happens when the ruins only appear once every 25 years, and they're only accessible for three days? What if the warlord is only going to be in Black Pond for a short time, and once he moves off he'll rejoin the rest of his army where he'll be significantly less vulnerable? What if the party has bandits on their tail, and they need to hustle on their way to the capital to stay one step ahead of the deadly outlaws? Well, they might have to force march themselves, making saves and taking penalties for a lack of sleep. Spells, ki points, Rage rounds, bardic music... they all need to last longer. That makes them a more precious resource, not to be used lightly.

This same logic applies to the meat and potatoes of an adventure, as well. Because even if the party can approach a location at their leisure, traveling at a relaxed pace, once they get where they're going they can't really pull back without breaking the suspension of disbelief. Sure, if you're investigating ruins that have been abandoned for a thousand years, and you're dealing with traps along with constructs and undead, you might be able to pull back and regroup since the guardians aren't programmed to leave their posts. But what about in other situations? When you're raiding a goblin cave, fighting through an orc stronghold, or assaulting a frost giant fortress, you can't hack your way through a few encounters, run away, and then expect everything to be just the same a day later.

The creatures you killed will still be dead, sure, but they've been replaced by new guards. Not only that, but those guards are now on high alert, and looking for revenge on the people who killed their friends. The traps have been reset, and it's possible a few more have been added. There might even be mobile units ready to respond to any threats, now that you've given away your presence.That is, of course, assuming the enemies don't send out scout patrols to harass you where you're camping, with orders to kill or capture you.

Time Between Fights Is Just As Important

There's another aspect about time in RPGs you should be paying attention to as a DM: specifically the amount of time it takes the party to buff itself, and how long those buffs last.

Unstoppable, baby!

We've all seen the character builds where, with 5-6 rounds of prep time, a character can become godly in their power and capabilities. It's one reason we often have clerics and wizards who have buffed themselves for several minutes as our big bad guys. However, while players should have the chance to get their buffs in, unless they're setting up an ambush, or they're scouting ahead either physically or magically, they shouldn't be able to predict when they need to be operating at maximum capacity. At that point it's about action economy, a subject I've already talked about in Understanding Action Economy (And Why You Need It).

The other thing you should pay close attention to as a DM is how long those buffs last.

As I mentioned in The 4 Major Flaws of Character Building, it's one thing to have a big gun. But just because you have it, that doesn't mean you have enough bullets in it to shoot your way to the end. Put another way, sure, you can boost your AC into the 40s, your Strength into the 30s, and give yourself a dozen natural attacks... but for how long? Which buffs last rounds per level? Which ones last minutes per level? For the others, do you have a daily cap?

This is important because, as I've said repeatedly, it's easy to hulk out for one fight and wipe the floor with the bad guys. You can probably do it for two fights, also. But can you pull the same trick for a third fight? Or a fourth? How many buffs did you bring? Because even casters with deep spell pouches only have so much they can bring to the table, and it only lasts for so long. Keep track of those rounds, and make sure your players aren't pausing the count downs because it, "doesn't count if you're not in combat."

Plan For The Long Haul

Time is just like any other factor in RPGs; it can be as forgiving, or as punishing, as you want it to be. Just like you can have your fights in broad daylight, and in wide open fields with plenty of lines of fire, you can give your party all the time in the world to achieve their goals. But just like how you can make them fight uphill, in the dark, and in the rain, you can also force them to step up their pace. Often this means they have to get where they're going, and get the job done, with no refreshes, and only their skill, smarts, and luck.

If you feel you've been going too easy on them, add a ticking clock. I guarantee it will make your players sweat.

That's all for this week's Moon Pope Monday update! Hopefully it helps some folks out there, particularly DMs, who feel it's hard to challenge a party without arbitrarily boosting their monsters' CRs. If you want to stay on top of all my updates, then follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. Lastly, if you'd like to help support me, then head over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a patron today! As little as $1 a month buys you my everlasting gratitude, as well as some sweet gaming swag!

Challenge Rating Is Just A Number

We're all familiar with challenge rating, and how it is supposed to work. Under ideal circumstances, a party at a certain level (APL, or average party level, is the term we use for this) will be able to take on a creature, trap, or other encounter that functions at their level. Challenging encounters will be of a CR equal to the APL+1, hard encounters are APL+2, and epic encounters are APL+3.

The key word here is ideal circumstances. And as anyone who has ever sat behind a DM screen knows, your plans will never survive their first brush with the party.

Player characters... not even once.

Challenge rating is a tool that deals in generalities. That's all well and good, but you aren't DMing for some theoretical group. You're DMing for your group, and for the characters and players sitting in front of you.

Beating The CR Doesn't Make Your Character "Broken"

I bring this up because it seems there are a lot of dungeon masters out there who are under the impression that CR is some kind of ironclad metric, and that if characters deviate from the "accepted" level of challenge, then those characters must somehow be illegitimate. If the players are following the rules, and playing the game how it's supposed to be played, it should be impossible for them to punch 3 and 4 ranks outside their CR on every, single encounter.

Or so the logic goes.

It is just science.

If you are one of those people who buy into this argument, and use it as a way to criticize characters, builds, or concepts for being "too powerful," then I would like to point out some holes in the logic.

First and foremost, CR cannot predict what kinds of characters show up to the fight, or the abilities and equipment they have available. Say, for example, that the DM throws out a Babau. This demonic assassin is traditionally considered a solid CR 6 encounter. So let's say you have a 6th level paladin, good-aligned warpriest, good-aligned cleric, and a ranger with demons as a favored enemy. The spells and class features those characters bring to the fight are going to smash a demon that's meant to be at their level. If the party in question brought bigger guns to this fight, say they have cold iron weapons to ignore its DR, or weapons with either the demon bane or holy enchantments on them, then the thing will be lucky to last more than a round or two.

If you flip the script on that fight, though, and you have a party made up of a brawler, a monk, an evil-aligned cleric, and a ranger with undead as a favored enemy, that demon is going to be a serious problem. The class features that the first group had that reduced a demon's threat level aren't present, and none of them are built to fight demons. If they don't have the appropriate items to hand that allow them to overcome the Babau's damage reduction, and they don't have resistance to its acid, then this party is going to be in for a slog.

Sometimes, though, advantage can come from something as simple as proper use of tactics, terrain, and environment. For example, say you have a party made up of half-orcs, tieflings, and a dwarf. Everyone in this party has darkvision. If they are assaulting a bandit camp where all the bandits are humans, and they're doing it in the dark of the night, the party has an inherent advantage. If you flip it around, and have a human party being ambushed by orcs in the middle of the night, then the advantage goes the other way in terms of concealment, darkness, and challenge.

Now, you might argue that a party should know what it's going up against before a fight starts, and that it should be prepared for every eventuality. Sometimes that's the case, but sometimes there's no way to know. After all, if you're invading the den of a dreaded necromancer, why would you expect him to have made pacts with demons to guard his lair? But that might be what happens.

Addressing The "Overpowered" Myth

As I said last week in my post "Multiclassing" is Not A Dirty Word, there is no such thing as an overpowered character, or an overpowered party. There are effective characters, and effective parties, but being good in a particular situation doesn't mean players are somehow breaking the rules. It means it is your responsibility, as the DM, to craft a situation that is unique to your group, and your party, in order to challenge them.

You have access to every spell, every feat, every piece of equipment, and every monster. You could put Cthulhu and his pet elder wyrms on the mat, if you so chose. Your players cannot defeat you. And they aren't trying to. They're simply trying to accomplish the challenge you have laid before them.

Whatever that challenge happens to be.

Your goal, as the DM, should be to give your players a challenge that is geared for them. This isn't a standardized test, where everyone takes the same exam. If you have a team of experienced, serious players who have created a party that works as a unit, and can mop the floor with the standard layer of difficulty, then what are you doing messing around with the standard layer of difficulty? Bring out your big guns, and let them fight, sneak, and practice diplomacy against something that is operating on the same level they are.

If students are blowing through their third-grade schoolwork like it's not even there, you don't chastise them for not being normal, average third-graders. You let them skip a grade, or maybe two, until you find the level of challenge they're actually operating at. CR is a way to ballpark where your players should be, but if they're not feeling challenged, maybe it's time for harder traps, bigger monsters, or just tweaking your encounters' strategy.

Just remember, it's not about beating your players. That's never a question. It's about challenging them so your story can operate at the optimum level for keeping interest, and involvement.

That's all for this week's Moon Pope Monday installment. Hope there were some folks out there who found it useful. If you'd like to help support Improved Initiative, all you have to do is stop by The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to leave a small donation. A $1 a month tip is all I ask, and sweet swag comes along with it. Lastly, if you haven't followed me on Facebook, Tumblr, or Twitter yet, well, why not start now?