Smart Game Design Leaves Room For Player Creativity

As folks who've been keeping up with my releases throughout 2022 know, I've been doing a lot of world building and game designing. However, there is an issue I've been running into for years that I wanted to talk about, and while this is aimed largely at fellow game designers there's some leftover attention for Game Masters out there as well.

In short, when you are designing mechanics for your game, leave plenty of room for player creativity. Because the less room they have to add their own creativity, flair, and detail, the more restrictive it's going to feel... and there's a real possibility this will kill interest in what would otherwise have been a really great game.

What do you mean I can't have a glowing horn? Why not?

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Players Need To Be Able To Make It Their Own

A perfect example of game design that leaves players plenty of room to make characters and concepts their own, while still providing a solid underlying structure, is Changeling: The Lost. I've been pretty deep into this game for content design purposes, as evidenced by supplements like 100 Hobs To Meet in The Hedge as well as 100 Mourning Cant Dialects, Phrases, and Meanings, and one of the things that drew me to this game in the first place is how much freedom it gives you in your character design.

Seriously, give them a look if you're a Lost fan!

In this game you play someone who was stolen by the True Fae, and whose experience altered them, filling them up with magic. You choose a Seeming, which grants you broad abilities and weaknesses. You may then choose a Kith, which grants you an additional, smaller power if you wish.

As an example, someone might choose to play an ogre (a Seeming known for its raw, physical power and ability to intimidate). While they could make this ogre a huge, hulking individual with a massive chip on their shoulder, they could instead be petite and adorable, always trying to make friends until they get riled up. They could be a hacker, a doctor, a politician, or a guardian... all of those things are left up to the player. Same with the specific details of their appearance, from fangs and tusks, to bizarre skin and eyes, or not, it's largely up to the player. All the Seeming does is grant them specific sets of mechanics, but it doesn't tell the player how they must make their character. The same is true for the other Seemings as well. A Fairest (known for their social graces and beauty) might be a foul-mouthed bastard with a disagreeable disposition. A Wizened (the crafters and makers) could just as easily be a soldier-of-fortune with a weapon on their hip and a love of the fight. A Beast (those who were transformed into animals) might be a well-spoken professor, a private detective, or a medical technician.

And so on, and so forth.

What this game also does, though, is that the more specific an ability or power is, the less wiggle room it gives players, and the more closely tied to the setting lore it is. For example, while many kiths are quite general and open to interpretation (like the Soldier, which gives you bonuses with bladed weapons), others will have some specific requirements (such as the Metalflesh, whose skin appears to be made of a particular kind of metal, or the Far Walker who generally share an appearance more common to the yeti or sasquatch).

Then at the far end of the game you have add-ons and powers your players may choose to take, but which have organic ties to the world, and specific meanings within the setting that exist outside the character entirely. For example, an Entitlement (something that's like a prestige class in Lost's first edition, for those more familiar with class-based RPGs) is a specific organization that a character may become part of. In order to become a member the character must meet all the prerequisites, and adhere to the ethos, mission, and standards of this Entitlement. Because, in this instance, the Entitlement isn't something meant for the player to design to their own specifications and story; it's a part of the setting for them to interact with if they so choose. Like a faction, alliance, or other element, it will exist with or without them.

How Much Room Are You Giving Players?

Whether your game is class-based or skill-based, whether it's sci-fi, fantasy, horror, or a blend of genres, it's always important to ask yourself what limitations you're putting on player creativity, and whether those things improve the game, or undermine it. And, as mentioned above, whether something is required as part of character creation, or if it's something that's part of the setting rather than a tool specifically for the players.

And the question is pretty much universal to every system out there.

Why, for example, do you feel we must all be the same color?

If your game has tieflings and aasimar, do they only come in specific, proscribed varieties? Or are they more like the Primtouched in my Gods of Sundara setting, who come in an infinite array of creatures ranging from the merely unusual to the absolutely bizarre? If you have dragonborn, do they have a number of different features and body types to differentiate them (tails, wings, horns, jaw styles, etc.) or is it all down to color and energy type? Are your barbarians limited to specific backgrounds, or can you find them in noble courts as often as you do in the back waters of the wilds? Is every paladin out there a knight, or can anyone be touched by the divine, and allowed to uphold their holy vows in the face of an enemy?

There's always going to be some limitations in a game. Spycraft is meant to portray different varieties of the super spy genre, so for all its strange gadgets and impossible feats, all the characters in it are human. Call of Cthulhu is a game that takes place in the world of the Cthulhu Mythos, and so it has certain themes it's trying to maintain, and a particular canon that exists within the world. But whenever you look at the game you're writing (or the campaign you're planning) you should always ask yourself whether you're leaving enough room for the players' concepts to breathe on their own.

Because if not, it might be a good idea to go back to the drawing board.

In Case You Didn't See It

For those who aren't plugged-in to all my new releases, my latest drop from Azukail Games is practically burning up the sales chart. 100 Tips and Tricks For Being a Better Game Master went Copper within 24 hours of its initial release, and my goal is to try to get it to Silver before the end of the month. So if you haven't grabbed your copy yet, take a moment to check it out!

Like, Follow, and Stay in Touch!

That's all for this week's Moon Pope Monday. 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 YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio. Or if you'd prefer to read some of my books, like my cat noir thriller Marked Territory, its sequel 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!

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 Do I Design For Older, Less-Popular Games?

For folks who are just joining us this week, my name is Neal, and I write RPGs for a living... or, at least, as part of my living. While a lot of my older supplements are game-neutral resources like 100 Cults to Encounter or 100 Fantasy Foods, recently I've been working on a lot of releases that are very game and edition-specific. For example, my supplements 100 Mourning Cant Dialects, Phrases, and Meanings and 100 (Mostly) Harmless Goblin Fruits and Oddments to Find in The Hedge are written specifically for the Chronicles of Darkness game Changeling: The Lost, and they're meant to be used in both editions of the game. Additionally I've been releasing supplements for my fantasy RPG setting Sundara: Dawn of a New Age all year, and while they're available in versions that are compatible with Dungeons and Dragons 5th Edition, they're primarily conceived of (and written for) Pathfinder's first edition.

The most recent example, in case you want to get your copy today!

While there have been a lot of folks who are excited to see more content come off my desk for these and other projects, there have also been a lot of folks who are wondering why I'm keeping one foot in older editions at all. After all, the door has closed on those games. Nobody's playing them anymore, so why cater to them?

This week I'd like to provide answers to those questions, and to shed a little insight onto my goals and my process as a designer. As always, subscribe to my weekly newsletter if you want to stay on top of all my latest nonsense, and if you can afford to support my work consider buying a copy of anything I've got linked in this Monday's update, or becoming a Patreon patron if you want to tip me more directly!

Firstly, Because I Know I'm Not Alone

It's true that once a publisher stops creating new content for a certain system (or creates a great deal less content while focusing on other games), a lot of the player base moves on. Some folks will keep playing the older games and editions they like, though, working their way through all the content that's available for them.

And those folks are going to want fresh material.

This one's for all the necromancers out there! Get your copy!

Because while it's true that the audience for older editions isn't as big, there's often a lot less competition for eyeballs. And if bigger companies have moved on to greener pastures, the people who stayed behind are probably folks who want to see what else you can do with a game system even after it's been around for so many years. Which is why I hope to give them something unique and interesting to play with. Whether it's a Pathfinder Classic setting with no alignment, weird magic, and bizarre cultures, or just expanding on the sheer wildness of the stuff you might find wandering the Hedge in Changeling, I want to provide the remaining audience with something that fires their imaginations and gets them excited about having more adventures in these older games and editions.

Secondly, I Hope To Bring New Converts Back In

There is a truth about the publishing industry I learned as a novelist that applies equally well to tabletop gaming. In short, as long as there is interest in your niche, you're never going to run out of potential readers. And given how many people play tabletop RPGs (it's hard to get solid numbers, but I think it's safe to assume the audience is millions of people) that means there's a huge potential audience for me to reach. Not only that, but younger generations grow up, and people who weren't into tabletop games are going to keep trying out the hobby and exploring their options.

Functionally, this means I'm going to have an ever-refreshing pool of people that I can try to persuade to give my supplements and settings a try. And while I may not be able to get a commanding slice of the gaming populous (especially given that I'm a relatively small fish even within this niche industry), there's still going to be people for whom my content is intriguing and interesting.

Come in and have a look why don't you?

On the one hand, ensuring there are versions of my projects available for more popular systems is just smart business. After all, the more potential eyeballs you can draw your way, the larger the possible audience you have overall. But my hope is that there are going to be players out there who are growing tired of DND 5E, and who are looking for a stepping stone to a different game. And if someone is already fond of Sundara, and wants to explore a more nuanced take on the places I've already presented, it's just a jump to the left to walk these familiar streets in Pathfinder Classic.

This is, in a very real way, an example of what I talked about way back in 5 Things You Can Do To Be a Better Ambassador For Your Hobby. Because rather than complain about how my preferred editions have been left behind, or how there just isn't as much attention on games I like, my goal is to make interesting, intriguing content for my preferred games and edition that draws people in. Not to yell at people for, "playing the worse games," but instead to make something unique that might tempt folks to step into a different tent for a while. Maybe just for this one show, or maybe a little longer if they're enjoying what I'm laying down.

And if folks choose to stick with the other games they like better? Well, that's fine too, because whichever version they grab, at end of the day I still get paid.

Speaking of Pathfinder and My Sundara Setting...

If this is the first you're hearing of my Sundara: Dawn of a New Age setting, the idea is that it's a fantasy RPG that utterly removes alignment, and whose goal is to focus on moving forward rather than constantly looking back into some mythical, half-remembered past. A place of strange magics, unique discoveries, and constantly shifting alliances and borders, it's a realm filled with adventure as surely as any other!

And if you've already gotten your copy of Gods of Sundara (available for Pathfinder and DND 5E), consider checking out some of the Cities of Sundara splats that started this world off!

- Ironfire: The City of Steel (Pathfinder and 5E): Built around the Dragon Forge, Ironfire is where the secret to dragon steel was first cracked. The center of the mercenary trade in the region, as well as boasting some of the finest schools for teaching practical sciences, Ironfire is a place where discovery and danger walk hand in hand!

- Moüd: The City of Bones (Pathfinder and 5E): An ancient center of trade and magic, Moüd was lost to a cataclysm, and then buried in myth. Reclaimed by the necromantic arts of the Silver Wraiths guild, this city has once again become a place teeming with life. Despite the burgeoning population, though, it is the continued presence of the undead that helps keep the city running, ensuring that Moüd is not swallowed up once more.

- Silkgift: The City of Sails (Pathfinder and 5E): Built on the cottage industry of Archer cloth (an extremely durable material used for sails, windmills, etc.), Silkgift is a place that prizes invention and discovery. From gravity batteries that store the potential of the wind, to unique irrigation systems, to aether weapons, the city positively churns out discoveries... and then there's the canal they cut through the mountains that makes them a major center of trade across the region.

- Hoardreach: The City of Wyrms (Pathfinder and 5E): A center of power across an entire region, Hoardreach is ruled over by a Cooperation of five different dragons. A place for refugees and outcasts of all sorts, Hoardreach boasts some of the most unusual citizens and creations from across Sundara. Infamous for their sky ships, which require the cast-off scales and unique arcane sciences of the Dragon Works to take to the air, one never knows just what they'll find in this city built atop a mountain.

- Archbliss: The City of The Sorcerers (Pathfinder and 5E): A floating city in the sky, Archbliss has been a refuge for sorcerers for thousands of years. It's only in relatively recent years that the city has allowed those from the ground below who lack the power of a bloodline to join them in the clouds. However, while there are certainly amazing wonders to behold, there is a darkness in Archbliss. Something rotting away at its heart that could, if not healed, bring the city crashing to the ground once more.

Like, Follow, and Stay in Touch!

That's all for this week's Moon Pope Monday. 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 YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio. Or if you'd prefer to read some of my books, like my cat noir thriller Marked Territory, its sequel 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!

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!

Soft Power, And Winning in The World of Darkness

One of the major advantages of the World of Darkness (and its successor the Chronicles of Darkness) is that there is no way to "win" these settings in any definitive sense. No matter what threats you manage to deal with, or how many enemies you put in the ground, there are forces out there that are too big for you to handle individually. Things that are too powerful, too decentralized, or too all-encompassing to be slain with fang and claw, bullet and blade.

You can have victories, and you should. But the struggle will always continue on.

Because there's always one more hand to play.

However, something that both the World and Chronicles of Darkness settings emphasize that is often downplayed in other RPGs is the idea of victory through soft power. And since my 100 Mourning Cant Dialects, Phrases, and Meanings recently dropped for Changeling: The Lost, I thought I'd tell a story about a Winter Courtier of mine, and how his strategies went almost totally unopposed because no one saw the kind of game he was playing.

As always, if you want to stay on top of all my latest releases, don't forget to subscribe to my newsletter to get weekly updates! And as always, consider becoming a Patreon patron if you want to help me keep the blog going.

The Game of Whispers

Simon Blackridge was born into privilege, and raised by the cool professionalism of the servant class in the ivory towers of Chicago, Illinois. Maids and butlers, instructors and tutors left him a well-spoken but distant young man, who had more of a cordial than loving relationship with his parents. When his father died he tried to look mournful and introspective, because that was what was required of him. But he wandered off into the snow of the cemetery, and found himself in the Hedge.

It was through his wanderings, and his unfailing politeness, that he found himself in the court of the Snow Queen. The True Fae saw how this odd, distant boy had been formed, and took him beneath her wing. Under her tutelage his mind grew sharp, and his tongue grew cruel. Lights blossomed on his skin and in his eyes, and he took on the rainbow hues of the northern lights; beautiful, but cold, distant, and uncaring.

The last thing his Queen did was bid him to return to the world of mortals, and to find a place within the Winter Court. And to ensure he would be welcomed, she allowed him to think she was dead, breaking his heart as she took away the one connection he truly had. This left him in a state of sorrow, and frozen determination to do the last thing she asked of him.

Long live the Prince.

Simon returned, with the aid of his Lady's servants getting him back where he belonged, and he quickly used his skills and Contracts to establish a power base for himself. His fetch had inherited his family's real estate firm and holdings in his absence, and Simon arranged a bargain with the creature that he would help grow the firm even larger in exchange for cooperation. He was accepted to the Winter Court, telling them the truths they wanted to hear while lying only by omission. At that point, he began to build his influence.

While never one to sully his hands with blood, Simon was a strategist, and a master of manipulation. He rapidly amassed a huge fortune using the ability to see into the future, and to adjust his stock portfolios accordingly while avoiding the gaze of investigators. Using those funds he purchased housing and resources for the freehold, making sure other changelings had safe houses they could go to, smoothing the way toward acquiring false identities, and taking care of the costs of living when one has dropped out of the world. Though never fully trusted thanks to his easy smile, arrogant demeanor, and too-smooth answers, he was valued for the services he provided.

Simon's plan was to continue his acquisitions, and to make himself indispensable. To become what he had been under his Lady... a Prince. Alliances were forged with organized crime figures, money laundering operations were opened, and shell companies started in order to set other wheels in motion. Charity clinics were created to be used as fronts for body disposal, and to help changelings get medical care. Legal offices and representatives were acquired to provide cover from nosy investigators. Influence was purchased at political galas and fundraisers, ensuring that if Simon needed something to happen all it took was the right word in the right ear and it would get done.

He was not one of the Monarchs of the freehold, and in truth he had little enough desire to be one. Because he had learned a truth that few still truly understood; that the authority of the clenched fist was often far less persuasive than the debt of the open hand when it came to ensuring loyalty, and power.

Soft Power Gets Results

When most people think of power in a game, they tend to think of hard power. The character who kicks in a door, waves a gun in someone's face, or makes an explicit threat of violence is using hard power, coercing others to do what they want. Soft power, by contrast, is the use of cultural or economic influence to persuade someone else to do what you want. Soft power is using one's social position, greasing a palm with a bribe, or giving someone what they need in order to endear yourself to them so that, later on, they're more likely to side with you in a conflict.

This is usually discussed on the scale of nations, but you can break it down to smaller interactions as well. And it really helps in understanding how to achieve results in a setting like the Chronicles of Darkness.

Given that both World and Chronicles of Darkness are games of modern, dark fantasy, they deal with struggles in the huge, interconnected world we live in. And while there are always going to be small battles that will be fought in the small-scale, many of the chronicle plots involve looking at bigger problems that you simply cannot defeat solely through the barrel of a gun in a meaningful way.

However, through exerting soft power, you can often smooth out challenges, or overcome them entirely.

For example, if a Pentex subsidiary is causing problems in the local area, sure, you can blow up the refinery, or kill the mad scientists who are experimenting in there. It often means you'll just have a new facility with fresh faces moving back in, along with a bigger security team. But if you start up the rumor mill to create negative impressions in the media about the company's corruption, you tarnish their reputation, and create problems for them. If you get people who owe you favors on the planning commission, or in the permits department to review those cases in order to maintain their relationship with you, there might be further problems for the company. And even if you do need to eventually go in and kill the monsters being grown in the lab, that's easier to do when the tide of public opinion is already turned against the research facility, so if something bad does happen no one is going to leap to their defense.

The issue with soft power, though, is much the same as the issue with playing a support character; you don't spend a lot of time in the spotlight.

Soft power takes a lot of time to cultivate and grow in a game. It also tends to be done in downtime actions (whether you're at a tabletop or a LARP), and it can take a lot of XP to buy the dots you need in Resources, Allies, Contacts, etc. to back up your play. And then, when it does come time to wield that power, you do it by making a phone call, sending an email, or talking to a representative. It isn't as dramatic as a knock-down, drag-out brawl, or a contest of wills between potent magical beings, but more often than not it is this subtle ability to influence that solves problems neatly, and cleanly in a game known for being quite messy both literally and metaphorically.

There will always be a place for the blade, the gun, and the assassination. Spies, saboteurs, and enforcers are just as much a part of these settings as the monsters whose skins the players slip into. However, for those who want to try on the role of the velvet glove instead of the iron fist, it can be quite a rewarding experience.

What's Next on Table Talk?

That's it for this installment of Table Talk! What would you like to see next? Or do you have your own story you'd like to share with folks?

For more of my work, check out my Vocal archives, as well as the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio where I help out from time to time. Or, to check out books like my hard-boiled cat noir novel Marked Territory, my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife or my recent 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, and Twitter, as well as on Pinterest where I'm building all sorts of boards dedicated to my books, RPG supplements, and greatest hits. Lastly, 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 donation can have a big impact.

A Mechanical Review of Changeling: The Lost's 2nd Edition (And What Went Wrong)

Regular readers around these parts know that if I'm not playing Pathfinder that I love me a good Chronicles of Darkness game. Of all the spheres I've played, Changeling: The Lost is my favorite. The combination of twisted fairy tales, beautiful madness, and cosmic horror is the perfect brew to slowly sink into and immerse yourself, and the game was flexible enough that you could make basically any concept you wanted to play. When I heard there was going to be a 2nd edition of the game I didn't rush in and follow every development as it was happening. I waited calmly and patiently for the smoke to clear, and to see just what had happened.

My current verdict is that if you have to choose between the original Changeling: The Lost and the newer second edition, just play the first one. It doesn't commit the sins I'm about to get into.

There's no beauty here... only madness.

For folks who want to check out some of my World/Chronicles of Darkness content, consider checking out my 100 Kinfolk Project, as well as my 101 Savage Kinfolk and 100 Stargazer Kinfolk for Werewolf: The Apocalypse, as well as my recent release New World Nights: 100 Ghouls For The American Camarilla. I've got some Changeling: The Lost content coming down the pipe, as well, and if you don't want to miss out on it then make sure you sign up for my weekly newsletter to get all my updates sent straight to your inbox!

Soft Where It Needs To Be Hard, Hard Where it Should Be Soft

Similar to what I said a while back in my mechanical review Chronicles of Darkness Second Edition... What's The Difference?, the second edition of Changeling is pretty recognizable in a story sense. Changelings are still people who are stolen by the True Fae, their souls torn on the Thorns between worlds, and the gap filled with fey magic. They are still Other, altered to become whatever the True Fey needed. Escaped back to the Real they are creatures of two worlds, now, and they are hunted. Changelings still form courts for mutual protection, they still use Contracts as their magic powers, etc., etc.

If you're familiar with the first edition of the game, the broad strokes are still there, and still the same.

Now we get into what's different.

Aside from the difference in the core game that I already covered in my previous review (the beats system for gaining XP, the Doors system for achieving long-term goals, etc.), if I had to explain what's different in Changeling: The Lost now it's that the game has been over-scripted, and shrunk down, so that you feel like a character caught in a web of conflicting laws and promises, but in the worst possible way.

A concrete example of this is the changes made to Pledges. Changelings are creatures who can bind people to promises spoken, in keeping with fey lore and the themes of the game. In classic Lost there's one chart split into four pieces. You have the Task (what the person has to do), the Boon (what they get for doing it), the Sanction (the punishment for breaking the pledge), and the Duration (how long does it last?). There's a simple chart with attached numbers, and as long as all the numbers add up to 0, the pledge is ready to rock.

The second edition, rather than just having this single mechanic with a basic chart that lets you compose the pledge, has several different varieties of oaths, all of which are only applicable in certain situations. They each have their own caveats, and long-winded explanations, but there's never a chart explaining how to use them in a practical sense, or how they're supposed to function. Instead, it feels like reading a product user agreement read by a frustrated fantasy writer trying to spice up their day job.

And that's the new edition in a nutshell; it takes simple, functional, practical mechanics of the original and softens them until they melt like wax. Often to the point where, though I can see what the designers were trying to achieve, they just end up making a more limited version of the original game. Or, worse yet, they take aspects that were left vague and open-ended for players to fill in themselves, and create rules for how you have to play certain aspects that limits your freedom and options.

More Examples and Frustrations

While what happened to Pledges is emblematic of the changes made, there are a lot more examples I want to talk about, because I feel they're indicative of the direction the game was moved in.

First off the list, Clarity. While a lot of folks hate that Clarity was just a list of Thou Shalt Nots in terms of actions that forced you to roll, I'd argue that if any game will accept an arbitrary system of rules that characters have to follow even if they disagree with them, it should be those bound to the fey. That said, Clarity has become an absolute mess. The new edition treats Clarity checks as a mental attack, with a huge list of complications and modifiers that made my head spin just trying to figure out what it was trying to say. Not only that, but it enfolded the Virtue and Vice system from the previous edition, allowing players to (at least in part) custom make their own Clarity, what they draw strength from, and what triggers affect them. A nice idea in theory, but one which is so soft that it feels almost pointless because it leaves the players to do all the heavy lifting on their own with only a bit of guidance. It's a perfect example of an idea that was deemed too simple, then overcomplicated till it just became a confusing morass.

But what about stuff that was open-ended that's been codified in ways that hurt the game, since I mentioned that, too? Well, another thing that's changed is the Seemings themselves. The broad categories of changelings (Beasts, Darklings, Ogres, Fairest, etc.) are all still here. And as folks know in the first edition they could spend glamour to increase pools involving certain attributes or skills associated with their Seeming (Strength for ogres, Stealth for darklings, etc.). This created a system where certain varieties of changeling had certain mechanical strengths, but it was still loose enough that the line of changelings coming in an infinite variety that's sometimes hard to codify felt true. In the second edition that was done away with entirely, and from what I read there's now no abilities that increase your attributes and skills via glamour at all. Instead, every seeming gets one magic power. Darklings turn invisible, for instance. All darklings, of every variety, have this one power. Might just be me, but that feels like it's solidifying those lines pretty damn hard, and nailing down specifics of what you are and aren't in ways that were previously up to players.

There's also a third category of mechanical change... the Nerfing. And despite being some of the most mortal and vulnerable supernatural creatures in the Chronicles of Darkness, the new edition slapped changelings hard with the Nerf bat.

I'm still trying to compose my brain after some of it.

Contracts is where some of the biggest Nerfing took place (aside, of course, from the complete absence of the ability to increase your dice pools with glamour the way you could before from what I saw). Because the Beats system means you're getting less XP overall, and it takes a lot longer to acquire it, this system did away with the exponential cost for new dots. Now you just pay a flat XP cost for any additional thing you want on your sheet. So whether you had a Strength of 1 dot or 4 dots, buying the next dot is just a flat 5 XP now.

That sounds nice in theory. However, it meant that since Contracts can basically be purchased in any order a character wants (instead of having to buy a set from 1-5 dots to get to the really potent ones), that all of them had to be made roughly the same power level. And it was a bizarre experience seeing Contracts that were once big deals sitting there as a ghost of their former selves, hollowed-out husks of their old glory. The Lord's Dread Gaze (the Summer contract that let you shoot beams of solar fire that was usually only had by one or two people in the entire court) is a perfect example... it still lets you shoot lasers, but now they do bashing damage and aren't nearly as potent. You'd be better off just getting a gun and shooting someone with it. Even old standbys like Might of The Terrible Brute (a 1-dot Contract used by any melee bruiser that let you boost your Strength for a round) has now been made into something that only works for grappling, and has a bunch of other caveats attached to it.

Practically every aspect of the game has been made smaller, less potent, and in many cases actively punishes the player for attempting to use it (goblin Contracts, for instance, now incur phantom "goblin debt" which seems to only come into play if the ST remembers it's there, and is willing to do something with it, rather than the clear drawbacks of the earlier edition). Lastly, frailties (inherent, fey weaknesses in the character) are now something you pick up as soon as you hit Wyrd 2, when they used to not come into play until you surpassed normal, mortal requirements around Wyrd 6 or so. Changeling now get actively harmed by cold iron, as well, when they used to be able to wield it as their one, real advantage over the Gentry (it still cut through magical defenses, but it was mostly a single-edged sword).

It's still recognizably Changeling, but it feels like it's been in a major accident. It can't do the things it once could, and it's got a whole new list of weaknesses and day-to-day frustrations you never even considered before.

If you were wondering whether the second edition improved anything, I would be hard pressed to tell you yes. Unlike the core book for Chronicles, which at least had some ideas and systems I could get behind, Changeling: The Lost's second edition is just a frail shadow of its former self.

Play the first edition. It's still out there, and you'll likely have a more satisfying experience with the support and cleaner rules it offers.

Like, Share, and Follow For More!

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.

"It Is Always Better To Do The Thing" Made My LARP Career Far More Interesting

The monarchs sat in conclave, heatedly discussing what to do. Every season had a different strategy, and none were willing to give ground to the others. So they sat, gridlocked, while the rest of the freehold held its breath. It was as they were preparing for another round of verbal sparring that a heavy hand hammered on the door. Eyes went wide, and each of them exchanged glances. Their time, whether they knew it or not, was up.

It was Spring's Queen who floated toward the door, her feathers twitching as she tried to maintain her composure. Every instinct the songbird had told her not to approach that door, or the scent of the thing on the other side of it. But she steeled her spine, and opened the door.

The figure on the other side of the door radiated raw, animal menace. Though he possessed the rough form of a man, with a thick mane of hair and cables of hard muscle beneath his scarred skin, the Hedge had tainted him. The nails on his hands were thick claws, like those of some fanciful predator, and the teeth in his jaw were too long, and too sharp. The eyes were a piercing blue that never seemed to blink. Worse, while he stood still, the coat he wore seemed to twitch and sway as whispers just on the edge of hearing burbled from the depths of the shadows between its folds.

"I'm going out," the creature called Mr. Sainte said. The Hound glanced at those who ruled the freehold, unbowed by their authority or their combined power. He leaned in, his nostrils flaring as he drank in the scent of the Spring Queen's primal fear of hunting beasts. "If you've made some plan, now's the time to mention it. Because once I step out that door, I'm not coming back till the job is done."

And once I step into those shadows, you won't find me unless I want you to.

There's No Time To Waste! Let Us Discuss This For 3 Hours...

There is something that happens in LARPs that has become the bane of my existence as a player; the Meeting of the Authorities. This is what happens whenever a plot point drops, and the powers-that-be retire to a closed-door meeting to discuss what to do about it. Whether you're playing Vampire, Changeling, a traditional fantasy game, or something else entirely, as long as the leaders of the community are player characters, this happens. And what's worse, it can take anywhere from half an hour to half the game for these PCs to reach a decision, and to then distribute that plan out to the rest of the venue regarding what we all need to do about this latest development.

And while they're doing that, the rest of the players are just sitting on their hands, feeling their makeup run, and their wigs start to itch.

Man, I hope I get to actually play at some point today...

Enter the infamous Mr. Sainte, and the phrase that ended up becoming my motto as a player.

Mr. Sainte was a character of mine in a Changeling: The Lost LARP several years back. Born Shepherd Black, he was caught by the Wild Hunt by chance while he was at the police academy. Molded into one of the lead hounds, he led uncounted hunts before he stumbled back into the real world following a scent. Eventually his nose led him to his fetch. The fetch, not well-adjusted to begin with, was cracking under the pressure of his position. He'd become a cop in Shepherd's place, and he'd been undercover for vice. Planted deep with the Russian mafia, living two lives on top of seeing things that shouldn't exist, and having awful nightmares about what Shepherd was living through in the Hedge, the fetch was at a breaking point.

It was only too glad to give Shepherd the life of the infamous Mr. Sainte, and to disappear for a while. Of course, with that identity, Shepherd also acquired a badge, and enough sway that he could smooth things out for the local freehold... or make life very unpleasant for those he felt had crossed a line.

Sainte was an enforcer, and the savagery of the hunting hound was never far beneath his skin. In addition to his claws and teeth, though, it was his ability to seemingly vanish into thin air, and to track people who'd thought they couldn't be followed that made him so unnerving. A black bagger of the first order, if Sainte took it into his mind to make someone disappear, it was only a matter of time before they dropped completely off the radar to anyone but those who could read the skeins of the Wyrd itself.

Big Dogs Don't Take Well To Leashes

Now, under ideal circumstances, his skills would have been put to use for the good of the freehold. A scout, a specialist in intimidation, a capable warrior, and someone who was more than happy to get his hands dirty, he was built as a hatchet man. But rather than let him off the leash, any time there was a plot development the players with the role of the monarchs sequestered themselves in council. Orders could have been given to other players, allowing them to complete separate tasks while discussions were had (there were enough assistant storytellers to keep more than one plate spinning at a time), but it just never seemed to happen. So 4 players were engaged with a tense scene, while between 6 and a dozen others just sat around doing nothing.

And as anyone who's ever had a high-energy dog can tell you... if you don't give them something to do, they will eventually get destructive due to all their pent-up energy. The same is true of players like myself, as I mentioned in Game Masters, Goal-Oriented Players Need Challenges (Or They'll Eat The Setting).

Who you looking at?

The first time the venue was left to cool its heels, I contented myself with some light RP with other folks. The second time I had a long, in-depth conversation with others about what was going on with the current problem. The third time, though... well, the third time Mr. Sainte tapped an ogre on the shoulder, grabbed one of the freehold's academics with a greater knowledge of the creature who had made itself a problem, and went to solve it himself.

By the time the monarchs had agreed this creature needed to be dealt with, Sainte and his impromptu crew had determined what it was, where it was, and put something of a hurt on it. They were only coming back to the freehold to load up before finishing the hunt. While there was some talk about how communication and cooperation needed to be exercised, a hard look from the Hound made it clear that was going to go both ways if they expected this situation to work.

Which was why, from that day forward, any conclave had an invisible, ticking clock on it. And when the Hound came knocking it meant that the decision was going to be taken out of their hands, or they were going to have to explain to him exactly why he shouldn't task a crew and go kick the hornet's nest.

"It Is Always Better To Do The Thing"

I talked about this broadly way back in 5 Tips To Get The Most Out of Your Next LARP, but it's something I feel this motto really hammers home. Because being proactive is one of the best things you can do in order to really get the most out of a LARP specifically, and in RPGs in general. And if you find yourself constantly waiting for the Authorities to tell everyone to get on the bus, just go without them. Because when you do that, something rather amazing happens...

Other players start getting on the bus, too.

If you're going to Do The Thing, and you make it a point to bring other players with when you Do The Thing, pretty soon it gains momentum. Whether you're hunting down a dangerous fey creature, scouting out a strange location, or digging for dirt on a nosy cop that's becoming a pain in the game's collective backside, anything that allows you to get other people involved not only stops you from sitting on your duff, but it helps other players have an engaging night.

The thing you're doing doesn't have to be super important. It doesn't have to be some high-risk endeavor that the fate of the venue is riding on. Sometimes it's locating an NPC that's important to your backstory, or claiming a new piece of turf, or just gaining access to the restricted section of a library to do some research. But the activity should help achieve concrete goals, allow everyone to participate, and give those involved something to talk about at afters once the game has wrapped for the night.

And once you make it a habit, you'll also find that any Meeting of the Authorities ends up becoming as short as they can make it... because if they take too long they'll come out of conference to find the situation has dramatically changed while they had their heads buried in the sand.

What's Next on Table Talk?

That's it for this installment of Table Talk!

For more of my work, check out my Vocal archives, as well as the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio where I help out from time to time. Or, to check out books like my hard-boiled cat noir novel Marked Territory, my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife or my recent 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, and Twitter, as well as on Pinterest where I'm building all sorts of boards dedicated to my books, RPG supplements, and greatest hits. Lastly, 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 donation can have a big impact.

The Best Design Idea White Wolf Ever Had (Villain Theory 101)

Though it may not be the titan of roleplaying games that it once was, White Wolf still stands as one of the best-known brands, and creator of some of the most engaging games out there. Because if you didn't start your gaming career slinging spells and steel in Dungeons and Dragons, chances are good your first experience was baring your fangs in Vampire the Masquerade, howling at the moon in Werewolf the Apocalypse, or navigating the fine line between the impossible and the banal in Changeling the Dreaming.

Changeling: The Lost has a very special place in my heart.

While these games (and the half dozen or so I didn't mention) were all unique spheres within the ever-growing world of dark fantasy and bleeding horror found in the shadows, I'd like to talk about one idea that sprang up in several of the game lines. One idea that is a godsend to the storyteller, and that you should add to the arsenal you keep behind the screen to help when designing campaigns.

The idea of the Ever-Present Threat.

What Is The Ever-Present Threat?

The short version is that the Ever-Present Threat is something that hangs over the game, and that affects every character at the table. They may respond to it in different ways, and take different actions to deal with it, but the Ever-Present Threat is not a single foe that can be vanquished. It is something that is so powerful, or so de-centralized, that it can never truly be said to be defeated. While it might sleep, or be staved off for a time, it will always be back in the end.

I'd like to take a look at two of White Wolf's games here, and how one is (at least in my opinion) greatly hampered by the lack of an Ever-Present Threat, while the other is enhanced by that threat being up-front and in your face. All right, so, let's begin at the beginning with Vampire.

In Vampire, both Masquerade and Requiem, you are a vampire. It is now your job to navigate the shadows of the world, find allies, avoid repercussions from your enemies, and to play the games of power, influence, and prestige that may devolve into brutal savagery and bloodshed.

You know, vampire shit.

The trouble with this setup is that if you're the storyteller, then you have to work extra hard to corral a bunch of players toward the same goal. Even if their interests align for the moment, or they have some other reason to work together, the setting is fluid enough that it can feel like herding cats. Especially when, because you're immortal, you could go to sleep until today's problem is no longer a problem.

Now, contrast that with the Werewolf the Apocalypse setup. If you've never played the game, well, you're a werewolf. However, every tribe of werewolves is on the front lines of a secret war with the Wyrm, a force of corruption, chaos, and destruction. The end times are coming, and if you don't push back the tide of the Wyrm and its servants then the world will burn, and everything will be destroyed.

THAT is a setup that immediately gets you invested. Not only that, but it makes it clear that even if two characters don't like each other, they're both proud members of team Save The World when all is said and done.

After all, what really IS the alternative here?

You don't have to go that extreme with it, either. As another example, in Changeling the Lost, you are a changeling. You were, at some point, stolen by an otherworldly, god-like being from another dimension, and changed in fundamental ways. You managed to escape back to the real world, but you still bear the scars and powers you were given. And you know your Keeper is out there, somewhere... even if you killed yours, there are Others aplenty, always eager to retake one who got away.

In both of these examples, the Ever Present Threat is something that is big enough that it affects every character at the table, but also vague enough that you can't simply charge the stronghold to try to slay it. It hangs over the game, helping set the tone, but it can also be used by the storyteller to help create cohesion between the characters, and to create challenges players are instantly invested in, or afraid of. Your pack of werewolves bickering amongst each other? Well, they're sent on a mission to slay a corrupted boar that's been sighted in the ruins of Chernobyl. Along the way they have a common foe, and they learn to work together to get over their issues. Or if your changelings are getting a little too complacent behind their walls of money, private security, and mortal barriers, that's when they awake in the middle of the night to find a messenger of the Raven Queen. She has sent an invitation... refusing would lead to dire consequences, but accepting may not be that much safer.

And so on, and so forth.

Cultists, and Cthulhu

I'd like to switch gears for a second, and mention the Call of Cthulhu setting as a way to tie this up. Because the Great Old Ones are foes that exist, and their colossal, cosmic presence lurks in every corner of the mythos setting. And while they can be defeated (typically by disrupting rituals, strengthening ancient wards, or in some cases committing suicide before your mind can be used as a gateway), you don't fight Cthulhu. Even with the most potent of modern weapons at your command, and a score of ancient, eldritch talismans, if the Sleeper awakens, it's game over.

Oh hell... who let Wilbur make a call?

You aren't supposed to kill the cosmic gods of the mythos, though. You're supposed to solve their mysteries, and while you may be able to kill their cultists (if you're a hard-bitten team of Delta Green enforcers, for example), and you might be able to slay a mythos monster with some good dice rolls and the proper ritual, that's as far as you go.

The trick here is to give your players victories against the Ever-Present Threat, but not to defeat the threat itself. You close the door, you seal the gate, you bargain with Dormamu, and you emerge victorious. Possibly broken, bleeding, and mad, but victorious nonetheless. That's important, because making progress against an unending threat can light a fire under players to do more. But if you emphasize that nothing they do will make a difference in the grander scheme of things, then they're going to wonder why they bother rolling the dice in the first place.

Unify Your Players, Provide Instant Motivation

Your Ever-Present Threat can be a lot of different things. It might be the zombie apocalypse that's swept the world. It might be the demons that lurk, trying to peel open the gates of hell enough to escape. It could be Cthulhu, or the True Fae, or the Wyrm and its minions. It could be the Titans and their servants, if you're a fan of Scion.

Whatever your Ever-Present Threat is, it immediately gives your players context for the fight they're in, and why they need to step up to do their part. Because an Ever-Present Threat has touched everyone's lives in some way. It isn't something you can just sidestep, and carry on with your day. It is something that affects every decision a character makes, and which is always there in the background; constant storm clouds, making you wonder if today is the day that lightning strikes.

You can't fight the storm... but every day you hold it off is another day you've won. Which is why, if you've ever found yourself asking, "Well, now what do I do?" once your players have completed a particular arc, you might want to consider using one of these Threats. Because it reacts, moves, and changes, providing constantly new challenges to the PCs, and it saves you so much effort stringing your campaign together.

Additional Reading

For folks who are curious about additional topics, or even supplements, that build on these ideas, consider the following:

- 5 Tips For Running Better World of Darkness Games: The World of Darkness is dripping with atmosphere, and it can be hard to get your game just right. So check this one out if you want to make sure you avoid the obvious mistakes for this setting.

- 5 Tips For Creating Fantasy Towns and Cities: I've been doing a lot of settlement design, particularly for supplements like Towns of Sundara. So check this one out if you want your settlements to feel more organic and lived-in!

- 100 Tips and Tricks For Being a Better Game Master: Pretty much what it says on the tin. I've got 10 years or so if the advice I've field-tested myself, all condensed into a single, easy-to-read supplement for Game Masters new and old!

Like, Follow, and Stay in Touch!

That's all for this week's Moon Pope Monday. 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 YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio. Or if you'd prefer to read some of my books, like my cat noir thriller Marked Territory, its sequel 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!

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!

The Broken Mirror Part Five: Madness Comes Home to Roost

When last we left the Talented Mr. Ripley, he seemed to have finally found his niche. It was a repulsive, disgusting niche, as the local representative of the Moon Court who was one part malicious trickster and one part howling lunatic, but it was a niche nonetheless. If everything had just continued on the way it was, he would have been fine. But no... everything had to go and get flipped on him.

If you want to catch up on previous installments, check out:

The Broken Mirror Part One: The Talented Mr. Ripley
The Broken Mirror Part Two: Through The Mirror Darkly
The Broken Mirror Part Three: The Dark Side of The Moon
The Broken Mirror Part Four: The Moon Court Madman
The Broken Mirror Part Five: Madness Comes Home to Roost

All caught up? Lovely! Because this week, we wrap up the sad tale of a man who just couldn't glue his cracks together.

Beautiful Madness

Ripley, hurt and betrayed that a Fall court oracle that he trusted killed his antagonist (the Batman to his Joker, if you would), made a dire decision. He tracked down Madness itself, and made a pact with it. It could live in him, as long as it showed him what it was Alice had seen when she broke Ripley's toy. Madness was, unfortunately for those involved, as good as its word.

An unusual quality in a cosmic roommate.

Rather than just let the story passively progress this way, I spent the points for the Dual Kith merit. So, in addition to a Mirrorskin, Ripley began taking on aspects of the Pishacha. His skin darkened like smoked glass, and his eyes began to go red. His tongue thickened and elongated, and would occasionally wander on its own. Since he lost a guaranteed point of clarity per month, he went downhill quite quickly... though not quickly enough for some people.

What was the secret Madness whispered to Ripley? What horrible truths did he find while he tossed and turned in the gutters, his body twisting out of true as his mind was wrenched like a splintering rope? He learned that the world, all the worlds, were little more than beads of sweat on the brow of the true universe. That the Lords of Faerie, for all their might, were just children playing with toys. Creatures like himself couldn't possibly grasp these truths unless they were forced to contemplate them. Madness showed him that empty, cankered void that whistled and whispered in the center of all creation, and Ripley leaped into it with a wild, ululating laugh.

How I Became a 30-Day Magical Effect

Outside of Ripley's personal struggles, there was a cult that worshiped the Hedge. Its membership was dwindling, but they were still a force to be reckoned with. They plagued the local freehold, and they had been a thorn in our collective sides (pun very much intended). Ripley decided to embrace their dogma, and in so doing was touched by the god they called Hedge.

A little something a fellow player made, after this all happened.

The storyteller had to leave early, so he declared to me that Ripley had become a 30-day magical effect. He had embraced the Hedge, and in turn the Hedge had embraced him. Practically speaking, this gave Ripley the ability to merge with the Hedge, and to control the immediate area psychically. Not via Wyrd-shaping, but rather as if the local Hedge was an extension of his body, and his will. Worse, though, a gate had opened up in a cemetery, and hapless mortals were wandering around in the between-world.

The rest of the game became the venue trying to stop Ripley from devouring the people who had no idea where they were, or what was happening. More interesting, though, was the fact I was made temporary ST for the rest of the game. What followed were several hours of fast-paced planning, and heartfelt swearing, as the freehold tried to save what mortals they could, while closing the gate to the Hedge to prevent more people from getting in. When all was said and done, the Thorns were slick with blood, and every breeze through the trees sounded like the laughter of the Moon Court Madman. Though never seen again in the flesh, so to speak, Ripley had an unusual distinction among changelings.

He actually found what he'd been looking for.

Well, that's all for this sordid tale! Thanks for stopping by my Table Talk feature, and stay tuned for another installment next time as I begin a new tale. As always, if you have a tale of your own to tell, I'm happy to feature it here for all to see. If you'd like to help support Improved Initiative, then stop by The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a patron today! All it takes is $1 a month to get some sweet swag of your own. Lastly, if you haven't followed me on Facebook, Tumblr, or Twitter yet, then why not start now?