Consider Giving Summoned Creatures, Spirits, Etc. The Full NPC Treatment

The ability to summon allies to your side via magic and spell-like abilities is a staple of TTRPGs, and there are entire classes and character builds geared toward making the most out of these spells and abilities. However, too often we end up just treating these monsters, spirits, and even summoned animals as nothing more than collections of stats and numbers, rather than as what they are; characters. Even though they may only show up for a brief period of time, and they typically show up just to do a specific job, we often overlook the story potential these creatures can provide us with.

All you need do is open the door, and ask them to come to your side.

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When You Have Friends in Low (And High) Places

While there are a lot of games out there that use summoned creatures and spirits, I will be using the framework of Pathfinder, as well as Dungeons and Dragons for discussing this idea. Since it's a largely roleplay-centered idea, you can apply this idea to any other game where the creature or spirit you summon and control is an actual entity, rather than a simple collection of energy that has no will or thoughts of its own that merely mimics a creature.

Okay? Okay.

Who's messin' with you, fam? Point me at 'em!

The idea of summoning a creature to your side to aid you in whatever struggle you're currently dealing with is not a particularly new one, as far as magic in the genre goes. From the ancient wizards battled by barbarian heroes like Conan, to Gandalf calling on Shadowfax to whisk him and Pippin away, to the warrior mages of Magic: The Gathering, calling on powerful monsters and deadly beasts to fight your battles for you, or to provide you aid at a critical moment, is nothing new in the genre. But while it can be a pain to keep track of multiple miniatures on the map, as well as the hit points, special abilities, attacks, etc. used by your newly-summoned allies, you can squeeze a little more RP value out of them if you're willing to.

For that, you need to make them full NPCs, and give a few hints of the story you have with them, and how they play into your character's history. As an example, consider some of the following scenarios:

- The sorceress with a secret tie to an archdevil reluctantly calls upon infernal creatures to aid her in battle. The lesser creatures refer to her with the term mistress as a sign of respect, but more powerful devils might use a title unfamilar to the rest of the party, or simply offer a cryptic message like, "Your godmother sends you her regards," before vanishing at the end of the battle. While the sorceress may not interact with the devils much, she calls on them by name, showcasing her mastery of the devil's tongue, and suggesting that something more than mere arcane study is to blame for her skill at calling on these allies.

- The gnome druid Bingala only calls on animals he's personally met and befriended with his spells to summon nature's allies. At first this might lead to some moments of affection as he's nuzzled by a wolf pack that defended him, or he sends a bear off with a scratch behind the ear, and a whisper to watch over his mother before he disappears. But as the animals get stranger and stranger, the druid has more and more tales to tell about his travels, and how he encountered such truly bizarre allies... as well as what he did to earn their friendship so that they would come to his side when called by the power of the green.

- An aasimar summoner who was born on the celestial plane, and only came to the material plane on the business of the higher realm. When they call on celestial creatures, they do so because these are the beings from their home plane, and the kinds of monsters they're most familiar with. Even if that means colossal, feathered T-Rexes with glowing eyes golden claws, or boars with silver ridges who speak in a tongue like a perfect bell. Seeing the bizarre creatures they call to their side, and how the summoner interacts with them, can drive home just how alien they are, and how bizarre the plane they grew up on is compared to the one whose soil they now tread.

Your Mileage May Vary

To get out in front of some of the comments I've seen with advice columns like this before, this isn't a strategy everyone is going to want to try. Some players and Game Masters may already be juggling too many balls to start assigning story significance, personal narratives, and more to summoned creatures who are only going to be on the board for a single fight, or a handful of rounds. However, I've found that this is a unique method of injecting a little extra character and story into using summoned creatures as a main method of overcoming challenges, so I wanted to share it for folks who wanted to add some more personality to what can quickly become a very scattered and impersonal method of magic use.

Also, I've linked some of the articles I've written about the most common classes in Pathfinder who are known for using summoned creatures. Please consider giving those a look as well, as I'd love to get back to this series and really finish it out!

- 5 Tips For Playing Better Clerics

- 5 Tips For Playing Better Druids

- 5 Tips For Playing Better Summoners

- 5 Tips For Playing Better Sorcerers

- 5 Tips For Playing Better Wizards

Like, Follow, and Stay in Touch!

That's all for this week's Fluff post. To stay on top of all my content and releases, make sure you subscribe to my newsletter at the bottom of the page!

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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Hygiene in Fantasy RPGs

It's not unusual for a party of adventurers to get some funny looks when they wander into town. The stamp of heavy horse, the jingle of armor, and the rattle of weapons are not common sounds in most towns... or even in most cities. Those wearing the vestments of the divine, or the arcane, are equally unusual sights for most average people. However, it's possible that the reason people are turning up their noses has nothing to do with Balthazar's uncouth language, or Gendrin's holy symbols.

It might be because you all rode for two weeks to get here, and you smell like it.

Seriously, guys, one orb of cleanliness goes a long way.

An Often Overlooked Aspect of Life on The Road

RPG characters spend a lot of time in the great outdoors, away from civilization. After hiking along highways, fighting bandits, butchering game, and slogging through abandoned ruins, they aren't going to smell like a rose garden. They're dirty, bloody, sweaty, and covered in a plethora of fluids they'd likely prefer not to think about. But much like travel time, we often ignore these facts because they can seem inconsequential. We just wave our hands and say they jumped into a stream, or the wizard spent a few minutes to prestidigitate everyone clean.

Except Ivan. Ranger dirt has SR.

While there's nothing inherently wrong with that approach, there's a lot of personal and character detail to be found in someone's hygiene, and the routines they use to preserve it. For instance, does Ezekiel immediately leave the trappings of civilization behind when he's on the road, foregoing bathing so he's harder to detect in the wilderness? Does Retta even notice the dirt that gets on her hands? How many days does Blackstaff wear the same clothes? Is anyone using toilet paper?

Unless you're part of an urban campaign, most of your time in fantasy RPGs is going to be spent camping. So it bears asking how you maintain yourself when you're out in the wilderness.

As a for-instance, what about shaving? Does your PC bring a razor, a strop, and shaving soap in order to keep their hair properly groomed? Do they dry shave with the same dagger they fight with, using their belt as the strop? Or do they forego shaving altogether, seeing it as something to do when they get to town instead of on the road?

What Hygiene Can Say About Your PC

Hygiene, just like traveling, is a routine. So, while it's good to know how you're doing it, it's really not something you need to labor over when it comes to table time. However, it can make a big difference when it comes to your PC, and the roleplaying involved.

It's hard to tell someone's class at the hot spring... so tread lightly.

For example, how important is cleanliness to your character? How do they show that?

As a for instance, do you have a washing hammock (a waterproof sheet of material that can be hung up and filled with water for the purpose of bathing or washing clothes)? Do you wash your clothes every day, hanging them up to dry in the night breeze? Or do you make do with the same clothes for a few days? Do you wash yourself, or just apply perfume or cologne until it's hard to smell the sweat underneath? Is a wash good enough, or do you also take the time to brush out your hair, fluff your beard, and apply oil? Do you use skin cream to moisturize, or do you just deal with blisters, cracks, burns, and dryness until you're back in town again?

There are all kinds of details that can say something about your character in this situation. For instance, does your character cut their hair before going off on a job because long hair is just too much of a pain to care for out on the trail? Or do they put it into an intricate braid, knowing that while it might get dirty or greasy in the coming weeks, they won't have to deal with that problem until after they return from their manhunt, or dungeon delve? Both solutions could reflect a personal or cultural attitude toward pragmatism over beauty, and the latter example might be seen as a warrior's braid, because it eschews the luxury of personal care when there's work to be done.

Different characters, and different cultures, will also have different attitudes about cleanliness.

For example, a character who comes from the frozen steppes might see a traditional bath as a decadent luxury for the soft and spoiled. For him, a sweat tent and a harsh, lye scrub would be enough for a clean feeling. A character who comes from a region where hot springs are common might start to feel filthy after no more than a few days, especially if they're used to having easy access to hot, clean water. Characters from highly segregated societies might see bathing in front of their own gender as normal, but shocking if done in front of those outside their gender. Those from a more communal society may be confused as to why others are blushing or stammering. They've faced monsters and blood without hesitation, after all, surely a simple bath is nothing to fear?

It's All in The Details

Sometimes it's the little habits of characters that say big things about them. The knight who carefully wipes the dust from his armor and pennon every evening, for instance, could have a variety of motivations. Pride in his appearance, duty to the ideals he represents... or he just doesn't want dirt streaks down his skin when he strips it off for the evening. The woodsman who is constantly trimming his nails with his knife, or the wizard who takes pains to brush his teeth every morning and evening, will stick out. Partially because it shows care and thought being put into parts of an adventure that aren't soaring speeches or gritty combat... and partially because it's something a lot of people simply ignore.

That's all for this week's Fluff post. As always, thanks to Kolor Kreations for the photo of the half-destroyed orb of cleanliness, a product of Special Edition Soaps. Hopefully it got you thinking about your character's attitude toward cleanliness, and what kind of routine they go through on a daily basis. If you want to keep up-to-date on my latest releases, then follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. And, if you really want to support Improved Initiative, head over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page. All I ask is $1 a month, and that gets you both my undying gratitude, as well as some sweet gaming swag as a thank you.

The Gearhead Fighter

Every class has something it's inherently good at. Sorcerers are born with magic at their fingertips, wizards are masters of the arcane, clerics have the gods on their side, and monks have the capabilities to unlock their true potential through the study and practice of bringing the mind and the body into perfect harmony. But fighters? Well, what do fighters have? They are warriors. They are artisans of battle, and skilled dealers in the iron trade. Blow-for-blow, when battle is joined, the fighter is going to be the class that is the most comfortable in the maelstrom of chaos.

But what is a fighter without his weapons and armor? Little enough, actually. So why not use that to create a singular personality archetype that can make your fighter more than just another sellsword, bowman, or gunslinger?

It doesn't work for everyone, but a reverse-grip tower is ideal for someone with shoulders like mine.

The Gearhead Fighter

We all know this guy, in one guise or another. He's our uncle who will talk about the differences in air intake valves, and their effects on the gas/air ratio in your engine, and how that will make a difference in speed, efficiency, and response time. He's that friend we made in computer sciences who built his own gaming PC from the ground up, and could list everything from the ideal amount of RAM to the processor he had installed, and why he'd made every, individual choice. And since we're all RPG fans here, he's also that guy you met at a con who could lay out an ideal character build, complete with traits, feats, and edition notations, before you were halfway through your first sentence.

What you need to do is take that attitude, and apply it to your character, and their personality.

Why so many different swords? Well, let me tell you...

 

The Gearhead doesn't have a bastard sword. The gearhead has a full tang, hand-and-a-half with seven-inch quillions, a beveled fuller, and an alternating wire-wrap hilt. Every aspect of a weapon, piece of armor, and their maintenance, is something the gearhead knows. Not just knows, but loves. Whether it's in a, "let me show you how much I know about fighting," kind of way, or a, "these are my tools, this is my trade, and I would never dream of doing anything else," kind of way, the interest is one the gearhead goes on about at length.

It doesn't matter what sort of weapons or armor the gearhead favors, either. Archers may talk about preferred woods for bows and shafts, or preferred fletchings for their arrows. The merits and flaws of different arrowheads, a full versus partial draw, and how often a bow should be oiled, as well as with what kind of oil, are also good topics. When it comes to armor, the age-old debate of strength versus mobility is sure to be a factor, but there's more detail to get into. What kind of pattern does a chain shirt have? Was it left to blacken? What sort of maintenance needs to be done on it? What kind of metal was used to make the links?

And, most importantly, who is the artisan behind the work?

Just as there are signature surfboards, comic books, and cookware, so there is signature adventuring gear. It isn't just that your short sword is a piece of masterwork artistry, oh no. It came from the personal anvil of Ciril Greene, the finest craftsman in elven steel outside of Kyonin itself. Every detail, from the slight curve toward the tip, to the ironwood grip, would tell a fellow gearhead what they're looking at. They wouldn't need to see the maker's mark on the ricasso, but that gently floating leaf is enough to confirm just how masterfully that weapon was made.

A true gearhead would also be able to tell the genuine article from a forgery. A simple heft and swing, along with running his thumb and eye along the steel, would be enough to tell him whether or not the weapon was real, and if it was worth the cost.

Race, Culture, and Preferences Among Gearheads

Gearheads are shaped by the cultures they come from, as well as by their race. For example, dwarven gearheads may focus more on the composition of a weapon's steel, the forging techniques, and where the ore was mined. Five Kings steel, for example, might be the preference for a dwarf from the Five Kings Mountains. Even if that gearhead acknowledges the strength of metals smelted from other parts of the world, he may not trust it, or rely on it, as much as he would if it were his own people who had made it.

It just sits better in your hand.

 

The more exotic the race, or the weapons, the more unusual these gearheads can become. Mithril and adamantine might be recognized by most gearheads, who have only heard tales of these fabled metals, but there are even more unusual elements out there. Infernal and celestial weapons might be legendary, both for their craftsmanship, and for the inherent powers imbued into them by their inhuman smiths. Mortal gearheads have likely heard tales of these weapons, though, and may know more than many sages when it comes to named weapons and armor that hold prominent places in the history of war. Gearheads raised among the celestial realms, though, may have first-hand experience of such weapons.

Gearheads Can Be Other Classes, of Course

While the fighter is the class which is perhaps most closely tied to the gear they use, it's far from the only class that can be made as a gearhead. A magus, for example, might be able to go on at length about the enchanter's weave in his mithril rapier, showing how the spells were anchored at the weapon's balance point to create a singular effect. A ranger will be able to tie unique weapons and armor to their favored enemies, creating a synergy between their knowledge and specialization that gives them an edge against any prey they've studied. Even wizards, with their intense study and ability to craft potent magic items, may be able to rattle off the advantages and disadvantages of different weapons and armors. Even if they can't use them in the field, that doesn't mean they haven't studied them.

Gearheads don't just bore their companions to death with intricate discussions about honing techniques and flange styles, though. Their knowledge and familiarity can allow them to integrate into certain spheres to gather information. Weapon smiths and armor merchants will recognize an enthusiast, and may be more willing to cut prices (a little) when it comes time to find a buyer for their goods. A gearhead might even be able to evaluate a foe before initiative is even rolled by taking in their accouterments. To the rest of the party, the sneering prince is just another spoiled noble. The gearhead sees the iron eagle on the prince's blade, though, and he recognizes that as a high honor, that particular blade given only to those who've killed more than fifty men on the battlefield.

Which might mean he can smooth some ruffled feathers, and make a powerful friend.

If you're looking for further inspiration, check out 5 Tips For Playing Better Fighters!

Like, Follow, and Stay Tuned For More!

That's all for this installment of Unusual Character Concepts. Hopefully this one gave you something to chew over, whether you're a player, or a game master.

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 alley cat noir novel Marked Territory, my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife or my most recent collection of short stories 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!

Why Character Optimization Isn't Bad (The Stormwind Fallacy)

So, there is a term I came up with a while ago to describe certain types of RPG players. That term is the Fluffkin. A Fluffkin is a player who is concerned solely with non-mechanical aspects of a character (appearance, history, etc.), and who believes that the "fluffier" aspects of their characters should excuse them from following certain rules in a game. For example, someone has brought a dashing swordsman to the table. He's charming, quick-witted, and fast on his feet. During combat the player declares he wants to grab an enemy, spin him around, and shove him out of a window. The character doesn't possess the feats to do this, and gets frustrated when informed that that action would take a minimum of two turns (one to reposition, one to bull rush), and it would also draw two attacks of opportunity.

In short, Fluffkins are players who want to treat this game like a novel, with them taking the pen away from the DM whenever it's their turn.

Plot Twist!

Don't get me wrong, I completely advocate players being unique, creative, and putting a lot of work in to create characters with depth, complexity, and soul. However, I am also the sort of fellow who gets irritated when the character that exists in the player's imagination is not the character who exists on the sheet. There needs to be a marriage of rules and imagination, because you are sharing this space with several other people, and everyone needs to be on the same page regarding what they're looking at. However, I have found there are lots of players out there who recoil from discussions of mechanics like Bela Lugosi from a crucifix.

"What do I look like, some sort of rollplayer?" they ask, explaining that anyone who reads through a game's manuals to find the most mechanically optimized method of creating a character is stripping the soul out of the roleplay.

I found out there's a name for this kind of attitude. Apparently, it's called The Stormwind Fallacy.

What is The Stormwind Fallacy?

Well, the full description of this logical fallacy can be found right here. However, here's the short version:

"If you are a player who mechanically optimizes your characters, you therefore cannot be a good roleplayer."

That's not how this works... that's not how any of this works!

Now, let's break that down. Mechanical optimization and roleplaying are two completely separate skills. Some players can do one, some can do the other, and some can do both. More often than not, players can do both, but are simply better in one arena than the other. Like how Mary can churn out heavy-hitting fighters with no sweat, but struggles to play more than the one personality, or the one backstory. Or how Mike is great at coming up with a huge variety of backstories, cultural quirks, and clever motivations for his characters, but anything past level 3 or 4 just makes him seize up as far as his mechanical plans go.

There are two generalizations we can draw from realizing this is a fallacy. The first is, obviously, that someone is not inherently a worse roleplayer if he or she can mechanically optimize characters. The reverse is also true; being unable (or unwilling) to optimize characters does not make someone an inherently better roleplayer.

Always Bring Your "A" Game

Every player should bring a character he or she is comfortable with, and which is something they want to play. However, the rules are how we interact with the game world. That's why it's important to have a character concept, and then to use the rules that allow that concept to do what you want it to within the game world. For other articles you may find helpful, check out How To Build An Effective RPG Character Every Single Time, and The Reason Rules Matter in Roleplaying Games.

Thanks for stopping in on today's Monday update! If you want to make sure you don't miss out when I post, then follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. If you'd like to help support me, and make this holiday a reason to rejoice, then please stop by my Patreon page to become a patron today!

What's In A Name? How Your Character's Class is Limiting Your Creativity

Language is a funny thing in RPGs; we get a particular image in our minds, and then we never question whether or not the image we have is the only way things can be. For example, when you look at the Rage class feature, what comes to mind? Chances are good you thought of a hulking brute, howling and foaming at the mouth while attacking everything in reach. But Rage can be a lot of different things, from a physical transformation into a partially inhuman creature (through Rage powers that give you animalistic or demonic features), a no-holds-barred performance where you give this fight everything you've got, or even something as odd as a sub-routine that only takes over when you're threatened (as I talked about in The Android Barbarian).

It's the little things that we all accept without question that trip us up. That's why if you want to have a freeing experience the next time you create a new character, make sure you never, ever mention that character's class once you've sat down at the table.

What's In A Name?

More often than not we think of our characters in terms of their classes. Hakar is a ranger, so he is good in nature and he's a tracker. Beldrake is a sorcerer, so she has a great force of personality, and she will be physically weak and unarmored. Tim is a cleric, so all he's going to do is go on about his god, he'll pray quietly in the morning, and he'll heal the party.

Sir Troll Knight is a samurai and he... wait a second...

The point here is that we tend to use class as a shorthand for a stereotypical list of traits. Bards sing and are charming, rogues are dexterous and sly, paladins are church knights who refuse to break the law, etc. But if you take a step back from this accepted setup, you realize that in a lot of cases you have significantly more freedom with who your character is and how he or she operates than you think you do. Nowhere is it written that rogues can't be big, burly leg breakers who wield bastard swords. Bards don't have to be foppish and delicate, particularly given the training it takes to accomplish many of their acrobatic feats. Did you know that just calling the samurai a knight completely eliminates most people's problems with the class?

Dungeon masters do this, too, and it can broadcast to the players what a certain NPC's mechanical makeup is. That's why when I wrote the guide 100 NPCs You Might Meet At The Tavern I tried to include a few characters whose true skills and abilities simply don't match the first impression you get of them.

Who Are Your Characters, And What Do They Do?

Let's come at the issue from another direction in order to better illustrate it. Don't pick a class for your character first; instead, pick a profession. Something they would use their collection of class features and abilities to pursue.Let's say, for example, your character is a bounty hunter. That's a solid, adventuring trade, yes?

How does this character succeed at that job? Does he make the rounds of the taverns, listening to rumors and collecting tips about where a wanted person has gone to ground? Does she dog a person's trail, tracking them as much by scent and spoor as by the marks of their passage? Does your bounty hunter use magic to track the quarry, making it impossible to hide for long?

All of these are valid methods of building a man hunter. Whether you're a diviner, an oracle, a ranger, a rogue, a ninja, a bard, or a slayer, those are just the mechanics that fill out the bones beneath the flesh of your story. And like all mechanical bones they are most effective when no one sees them, or even suspects that they're there.

People's Example #1

When was the last time you asked what your character did before you asked what the character's class and stats were? For example, are you a bodyguard? A traveling thug for hire? Are you a treasure hunter? A spy? Are you a bandit? A burglar? Were you a war-drummer or a flute player with an army? Are you a soldier? A tailor? A tinker?

To belabor the point, let's take another example. Say that you wanted to play a wandering do-gooder. You know, the have sword, will travel sort of person. You could do this with a lot of different classes, but you decide to play a paladin. As we all know, in order to be a paladin you have to be of lawful good alignment, you have to follow a righteous god, and you have to maintain a certain code. Nowhere in the class's description, however, does it say you have to join a holy order. It doesn't say that you have to be trained by other paladins, or that you have to add the words paladin of (insert god here) every time you introduce yourself to someone. Nor does it say you must follow laws that clash with your code, or that you have to try and convert other people to your worship, or that you can't join the rest of the party in the tavern or the brothel (barring specific, completely-optional oaths that would be broken by intoxication and fornication respectively).

So what does that mean for your traveling hero? Well, perhaps he joined a great crusade (like fighting demons at the World Wound), and found both faith and strength in a foxhole. Maybe he was lost in the wilderness, ready to starve, when he was rescued by the intervention of Erastil. So now he lives his life doing the same, trying to help the lost and endangered of the world. Maybe she grew up in Cheliax and chose to embrace Iomede as a way of trying to make her country a better, nobler place, and to show that not everyone would sit idly by while devils made decisions in the upper echelons of power.

You know what else that means, though? It means that if you don't want to play a paladin loaded down with a foundry worth of steel, and who isn't blazing with holy symbols, you can do that, too. In fact, if you want to be a stealthy bowman who calls on the power of the divine to guide your hand and empower your arrows when hunting wickedness, nowhere in the book does it say you can't do that. It's just that focus on how the class is often depicted (and what other players feel the class should be) often blinds us to the different ways we have available to play it.

Beneath The Skin, Outside The Box

If you feel like your games are getting stagnant, it might be because you're relying a little too much on the names of your classes and abilities, and not enough on what makes up your actual character.

There are those who call me... Jeb.

The next time you sit down at your table, and everyone is introducing their characters, think of something to call them other than their class (even if their class name is applicable). Instead of being Erin the bard, why not introduce yourself as Erin Silverstrings, harper, tale-teller, and seeker of adventure? Instead of opening up your dialogue by saying you're Mortran the wizard, why not something like Mortran the Sage? Instead of telling everyone you're Dirk, Inquisitor of Abadar, why not give yourself a job title like Dirk, Accountant of the Missing?

Your class name is handy when you're discussing things out of game... but if you want to get better roleplaying in, and free your mind to create truly different concepts, stop focusing on what so many people say these classes should be, and instead ask what they could be if you just thought about them a little differently.

As always, thanks for stopping in! To keep up on all my latest make sure to follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter, and if you want to support Improved Initiative then go to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a patron today!

The Defining Moment: An Easy Way To Get A Grip On Who Your Character Is

Before I get to today's topic I'd like to take a second to remind all my readers that May is National Short Story Month! If you'd like to dedicate some of your reading time this month to taking in some short fiction, then might I recommend my recently released collection of steampunk noir New Avalon: Love and Loss in The City of Steam!

The first two stories are free, go take a look!

Anyway, now that I've done my duty as an author and informed you of that, let's get on to today's topic, shall we?

Who is Your Character?

We all know certain things about our characters. For example, we know how strong and smart they are, along with how wise and how charismatic they tend to be. We know what their classes are, and we know what skills they excel at. If you want to use the random tables you can even figure out their ages, heights, weights, and other personal statistics with the rolls of a few dice. You probably have an idea of what they look like, and you know what gear they're carrying.

But who are they? Beneath the broadswords and longbows, and behind the gray eyes and con scores, who is your character?

And what in the HELL is he DRINKING?!

Now, chances are good that when you bring a character to a table you have a few, broad strokes about who they are figured out. For example, you have a pick-pocket who grew up in the dock ward. She pretended to be a boy until she got too old for that to work, and then supplemented her income with burglaries and other crimes. She joins adventuring parties as a way to make money without having to worry about looking over her shoulder for the law, since stealing from dragons and aeons-dead sorcerers is hardly stealing.

Whether you're a glory-seeking barbarian warrior, an erudite master of the arcane, or a pious wanderer seeking to heal the sick and help the needy, you've got a basic archetype you can fill. For some players, though, getting past that cardboard cut-out can be troublesome. After all, what more is there to Brand Savage, Warden of the Kingswood, except that he's a ranger who likes the peace and solitude of the forest, and wants to serve his king and country?

Well, there's...

The Defining Moment

Think about where you are in life. Think about what your job is. Or your passions. Why those things? What led you to choose those paths over anything else you could have dedicated your life to? Chances are good you can think of a particular event that stands out in your memory that acts as a signpost for that particular decision.

Those things are defining moments.

Sometimes a man's gotta do, what a man's gotta do... or something...

Again, character flavor works best with examples. So here's a few to illustrate what I'm talking about.

- Karela the Red was the gunsmith's daughter. Her mother died in childbirth, so her father taught her his trade the same way he would have a son. When their home was attacked by bandits she snatched up her father's blunderbuss, but it misfired and the bandits killed her father. From that day onward she's kept her weapons fastidiously clean and ready for action, knowing that sometimes putting it off to tomorrow means there won't be a tomorrow. And she always, always has a back-up.

- Erik Alder loved listening to his uncle's tales of sailing the world. The exotic lands, the strange creatures, and the adventure were something he never got tired of hearing about, despite the old man's missing eye and the stump where his hand had once been. Erik went to sea himself at 14, and that sensation of the salt in his lungs and the wind in his hair is something that has drawn him ever-onward since that day.

- Glenda Hammerhand always loved the stories of the gods. She liked the idea of being a priest, but all the reading and remembering was a task infinitely more complicated than smelting gold or swinging a hammer. The first time she felt the brush of divinity moving through her, though, and the smile of the boy whose broken leg she healed, she knew that the clergy was truly where she belonged.

Do you see? While a life is complicated, full of important choices and banal decisions, some of them have the potential to truly shape what a character feels or believes. These moments can be good, they can be bad, or they can be downright cynical. The soldier who defended her brethren during a surprise attack, only to be thrown under the cart wheels when the captain demanded to know whose fault the failure was might adopt a "looking out for myself" policy before becoming a mercenary. The paladin who defends the right of all creatures to make their own decisions might see one too many victims become monsters, and fall from grace when he becomes a tyrant in order to save people from themselves. The half-orc, ostracized by his community may still defend them when they're threatened. The gratitude of those he saves is second only to the feeling of pride he has in using his strength and ferocity to protect something he feels is truly his.

A Character's Career is Full of These Moments

A character should have at least one defining moment before coming into game (typically the one that made the character an adventurer in the first place). That said, these moments will also occur throughout a campaign. The half-feral ranger may bond with the bard, showing the singer a world he never knew existed, and at the same time remembering what human companionship is like. An aristocratic cleric might believe the barbarian is a savage in need of education, but when he sees the complexity of the "savage's" beliefs he realizes there are more perspectives than his own to share.

By learning to recognize (and occasionally push) defining moments you'll be able to develop a deeper character whose motivations and actions become crystal clear. Not only with this make RP easier, but it will often lead you to develop your characters in ways you didn't plan for.

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How to Keep Your Magic Items From Getting Mundane

You know how in video games like Diablo or World of Warcraft magic items tend to have names along with stats? More often than not though the names don't mean anything; they aren't plot relevant, they don't reference anything in the game you've encountered thus far, and they don't alter the appearance of your avatar's gear. After half a dozen levels you stop noticing the names at all, or really paying attention to anything other than the bonuses the items in question provide you.

Don't let that happen to your tabletop game.

The Problem

It happens in every game, from Pathfinder to Changeling; magic eventually becomes so commonplace and accepted that players aren't impressed by it. Whatever guise it takes, be it mutant powers, super science, holy light or incantations, the point is that things which would once have wowed your players are now expected and relegated the background information. It goes something like this:

"You find a magic sword."

"What's the bonus?"

"It's a +1 bonus."

"Pfft, I've got a +2. Toss it on the pile, we'll sell it."

Doesn't it seem like only a few levels ago a magic sword would have had the party at each other's throats for who got to keep it? Yes, part of the blase attitude is that the bonus is no longer as impressive. That said, presentation makes a world of difference when we're discussing magic items.

What Does It Look Like?

Meh, put it with the other hell globes.

Telling the party they've found a +2 longsword, or a hedgespun suit of armor doesn't really do much for the imaginative mind. On the other hand the more description you as the storyteller provide, the more real the item in question will be to the player.

Try an experiment. In the same horde have players find a "+1 magic dagger" and "an exquisite dagger wrought from blackened steel. Light shimmers across the blade like a stolen rainbow, and the soft leather of the hilt seems to mold itself to your hand." Now make them the exact same weapon, mechanically. Which one do you think players are going to want?

There are all kinds of details you can apply to magic items. Is there an inscription along the hilt or the blade? What language is it in? Does the weapon have a name (one of my personal favorites)? What material is it made of? For a mace, is the steel bright or dark? If it's a wand is it carved from wood or bone? Does the weapon feel cold to the touch or warm? Does it have a sheathe? Does it respond to being touched, and does it alter in battle?

A sword that's just a sword until it's drawn with intent to kill becoming cleaner, sharper, and making a distinctive ringing sound can make things quite interesting. For more storytelling hints, check out this blog entry on showing versus telling.

Make Them Work For It

I stab the bard with it... what happens?

Like I discussed in this previous blog entry, you should always endeavor to get your players in on the act of storytelling whenever possible. This means that you as the storyteller shouldn't just hand players magic items with nothing but a numbers description. Sure the weapon we're looking at is a +2 holy greatsword, but how do they figure that out? Does the wizard correctly identify the magic bound into the weapon? Does the bard recognize the maker's mark near the hilt, or remember a story about a brilliant, flashing sword once wielded by a paladin years and years ago in this very region? Does the fighter who worships the goddess whose holy symbol is prevalent lift the weapon and feel a tingling in her skin as the weapon recognizes one of its own?

Yes you will eventually need to tell players what the weapon's stats are. By the time you get there though, those numbers should be the icing on the cake.

Make Them Harder to Get

Can you believe they just left these laying here? All 30 of them?

By the time players hit a middling amount of power they buy magic items like every town has an enchanted steel depot. How many times have you as the storyteller heard a player say "yeah, I'm just going to upgrade my weapon from a +2 to a +3 before we head out to the dungeon."

Who's doing that? If your players are the most accomplished adventurers in the land, who is powerful enough to enchant their equipment in a backwater burg? Nobody, that's who.

What I'm not suggesting is that you refuse to let your players buy magic items, upgrade their equipment, or force everyone to take craft feats in order to make the magic themselves. But if players come to accept that every hamlet and village has a learned steel smith wise enough to increase the magic in their weapons then they won't realize how special those items really are. If someone can buy a holy avenger in the corner of any old store, then why should players be awed to find it?

Don't Be Afraid to Give Your Items a Story

There's a story behind every one of these bad boys.

Spoiler alert! In the first book of Carrion Crown your party is attacked by a possessed man from town. If you kill him then you have to deal with the fallout, but if you just knock him out the possession ends and when he awakens he realizes that he's misjudged the party. To make amends he offers them his old armor, which he wore when he was a young adventurer himself. It went to my paladin (the same guy who one-shotted a dracolich later in life), and the ST told us it was +2 ghost touch chain mail.

I could have just left it at that, but I didn't. I designed a crest on the mail, and created a specialized unit our random NPC had been a part of called the Gallows Hunters who specialized in tracking down undead and slaying unquiet ghosts. I put so much work into it that the ST occasionally had people recognize it and realize my paladin was not a man to fool with if he was wearing that armor.

Not every magic item will have an epic story, but every item should be more than just a collection of numbers. A faerie-spun surcoat with cloth woven from honor and promises that protects the wearer as long as he or she remains true is a lot cooler than just filling in some armor dots on your sheet. A rune-etched battleaxe with the names of every previous wielder down through the years engraved on the blade is just a little edgier than a dwemered wood cutting tool. Giving magic items stories of their own does more than make them interesting though; it challenges players to make that story part of their own story. Does the Bloody Blade of Balthazar eventually have it named changed because of the man who wielded the sword against its infernal creators redeemed it somehow? Does a druid become famed for carrying a staff carved from the last of a great ent tribe?

These are things that can add a lot of fun to any game, and keep players coming back for more.


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