What is a "Fair Death" in RPGs?

A few weeks back I talked about Death, And Its Role in RPGs. Folks seemed to really enjoy that entry, so I wanted to talk about something that didn't get mentioned at the time, but which is a topic that's been rolling around in my head for quite a while now... the idea of the "fair" death when it comes to our tabletop games.

Death, like a good GM, should be impartial.

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Death, and The Roll of The Die

In the previous entry I talked about the role that death plays in a game, and how it needs to fit with the themes your game is about, and how it should be more than just a thoughtless "game over" screen. However, even if you know the role death plays in your game, the purpose it serves, and how it plays into your story, all of that is just figuring out where death is perching, so to speak.

When it pounces on a player, you need to be sure it does so in a way that feels fair.

Fortitude save? Why?

Death, like all consequences, needs to feel appropriate as a possibility for the actions taken by the players. As an example, entering combat usually has the lurking possibility of death. Some games may be more lethal than others (such as comparing Mörk Börg to Scion, for instance), but when the blades come out there's always a chance that death comes for the PCs rather than for their enemies. Death could also come from starvation, from exposure to the elements, or from traps sprung in a dungeon.

In all of these examples, the player should have agency in choosing the path that led them toward character death. If death is a result of their own decisions, then that is (at least partially) on them.

In addition to being a consequence for actions taken, death should be impartial. Or, put another way, the monsters want to kill the PCs, but the GM shouldn't. Death should be a result of strategy and dice rolls, rather than something that the GM purposefully tries to engineer for whatever reason. Whether it's stacking the deck by throwing monsters at the characters which are far too powerful to be defeated (or spawning new monsters on the field until the PCs finally die), or making sure the saving throws against lethal traps are impossible for the characters to make, this can feel like there was never a point in participating because the end was a foregone conclusion.

Perhaps most importantly, however, death should feel appropriate to the situation where it occurs. A random dragon passing overhead and strafing the party with its breath weapon while they're walking down a mountain path, being struck by lightning, or getting caught in the midst of a massive avalanche without any kind of build-up or context are just random deaths that serve no purpose, except to annoy and frustrate players.

Why You Should Care if Death Feels Fair

Full disclosure, I have never killed a PC as a GM. I'm one of those people who feels that the purpose of a game is to tell a story, and that killing off members of the main cast is going to create far more problems than it does solutions, so I try to make sure that death is held in reserve as a last resort.

Perhaps you take a different view of things. Maybe you feel that death is a natural consequence of playing an RPG, or that it should happen frequently in order to keep players on their toes. We could debate the merits and drawbacks of those beliefs, however, there is a practical reason why death needs to feel like it's fair.

Player engagement.

Buy-in is important, after all.

Generally speaking, when players make a character for a game it's because they want to tell that character's story. Death cuts that story short (unless we're in a Dark Souls RPG style game where death is expected to be fairly common), and even if it can be reversed it can cut down on player investment in the game. The less involved a player becomes, the shallower their participation becomes, and the worse the game gets overall.

This is where the fair death can make a big difference. Because if a character died in a situation that was fair (say they challenged an NPC warrior to a duel, and they were evenly matched, but they just didn't come out on top), then that's just the way the dice fell. It might be disheartening, but you pay your chips, you roll the dice, and sometimes luck isn't with you. That happens. But say that a character was forced into a 1-on-1 confrontation with a warrior double their level who had a bunch of other advantages... sure, the player still got to roll their dice, but doing the math probably feels like rearranging the deck furniture on the Titanic; no matter what you do, you're still going down. That sends a message that either the person running the game is incompetent (because they don't understand how to build an effective, fair challenge), they're cruel (they put you through a whole scene just to kill you in a way that's probably humiliating and frustrating), or some combination thereof.

Sometimes PCs are going to die. Sometimes villains are going to die. Those deaths shouldn't be retconned or dodged when they happened as a result of open dice rolls, and the natural physics of the game. At the same time, though, these deaths should not be a result of unfair circumstances, GM fiat, or completely random happenstance. Otherwise players are going to be less and less invested in their characters, since they could just die at any moment leaving their story completely unfinished.

Recommended Reading

This week's installment has been a deeper dive on some of the topics I mentioned in 100 Tips and Tricks For Being a Better Game Master. So if you found this week's installment interesting, consider picking up that splat book along with its sister supplement 100 Tips and Tricks For Being a Better RPG Player as well!

And as a bit of fun, I recently did an audio for the introduction to the latter book. Because nothing is worse than when the Big Bad gets halfway through their monologue, and realizes the murderhobos have utterly stopped paying attention. Worse, they have no idea who this monster is, why they're here, and what this moment represents in the culmination of their story. We are all Faragor the Undying sometimes.

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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!

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Weapon Synergy: An Alternative to "Exotic" Weapons in Your Pathfinder Game

I've touched on a lot of different aspects of Pathfinder over the years. From spells, to skills, to character builds, to blow-by-blow playthroughs on campaigns, it seems like there's always something new to talk about. This week I wanted to focus on something that's always bothered me because it's both a limiting factor on mechanics, but also because it's one of those times where the mechanical limitation juts up so high that I can't cover it over with story reasons to make it blend into the background.

So today we're going to talk about "exotic" weapons, why I don't think they work, and some ways to adjust this for your game.

One man's exotic is another man's common.

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Let's Talk About "Exotic"

Folks who've been watching the development and changes in RPGs for the last little while have no doubt noticed there have been attempts to stop the use of "race" to differentiate between creatures, and to try use words like "species" instead. I'm doing this myself in my Species of Sundara series (the elf book is out for Pathfinder Classic and DND 5E for those who haven't checked it out yet). However, a lot of designers are digging deeper, and trying to find ways to change both the mechanics as well as the language we use to be more inclusive, and to leave behind older terms and ideas that have baggage attached to them.

I'd argue that "exotic" weapons are worth looking at for this reason.

Some weapons are more "exotic" than others.

There's a long list of exotic weapons in Pathfinder, and it covers everything from firearms, to sleeve launchers, to whips. However, as you look through the list, certain commonalities in general weapon type start cropping up. Weapons in this category tend to be associated with a certain species, or associated with a certain culture. And while one can argue that weapons that aren't widespread, or which require specialized training to use should be restricted, the problem comes with the use of the word exotic, and with how it may or may not apply to the story you're telling, and the background a character has.

Because at the end of the day, a lot of the weapons we see in these charts are very similar to one another in practice and use. The techniques for using a bastard sword aren't all that different from the ones involving a katana, a tetsubo and a greatclub are close enough that they probably couldn't legally get married, and the difference between a rope gauntlet, a cestus, and a standard gauntlet are so small as to be nearly laughable. The separation between them seems to be pretty arbitrary, and all it does is frustrate players, or force them to find workarounds to get the proficiencies they want, often at the expense of necessary resources.

So how do we make this more amenable without just throwing the baby out with the bath water?

Weapon Synergy

If you played Dungeons and Dragons back in the days of 3.5, chances are you remember the idea of skill synergy. Basically it said that, because you have been trained so well in skill X, and skill X is similar to skill Y, you will receive a bonus to represent this transfer of ability and knowledge. It was an idea that got left behind, but I think it could be reused to what I'm calling Weapon Synergy.

This feels unusual... but not all that unusual.

The idea behind this mechanic is that if a character is proficient in a particular weapon (or even armor) that is similar to a rarer or more unusual weapon, then that skill and ability transfers over. So if you're already proficient with the short sword, for example, then you would also be proficient with the wakizashi, gladius, and any other weapons of a similar style and type where the techniques and training would transfer relatively easily. The scimitar transfers over to the cutlass, the saber, etc. for the purposes of mechanics. If you are already proficient with both the sickle and the longsword, then a temple sword may take some getting used to, but not that much. If you're already familiar with punch daggers, then an ax gauntlet or a scissore isn't really that much different.

You could, if you wanted to, limit this feature so that players can only claim a certain amount of synergies at a time. Perhaps they only get 1 per so many points of Base Attack Bonus (every odd number seems fair), with additional bonuses from those who receive the Weapon Training background. Maybe they take a -1 instead of a -4 when using the synergistic weapon rather than the type they trained with. Those are just suggestions off the top of my head, but generally speaking, I don't see being able to use a wider variety of gear to be that much of a problem for the average game.

Whether you choose to limit it, or have it apply across the board, this idea can save you a lot of frustration when it comes to letting your players really untie the limitations placed on what they can and can't fight with. Because while some weapons have fun abilities or unique bonuses, none of them are so game breaking that allowing them to be used without spending a precious feat slot first will break the game.

I say this on behalf of everyone who's wasted a much-needed slot so they can one-hand a bastard sword.

"Uncommon" Instead of "Exotic"

The other thing I'd suggest is to use the category of "uncommon" weapons instead of "exotic". Because as I pointed out above, if you look at a lot of the exotic weapon choices (aside from things like the whip, the net, etc.) you basically have a weapon list that centers humans from a Western(ish) European setting as the default normal. And if a weapon or fighting style falls too far outside of that baseline, it trips and falls into the "exotic" category.

And the question that never seems to get asked is, "Exotic to whom, exactly?"

While I advocate using uncommon weapons as a designation, I would also suggest that this category should fluctuate based on where a game takes place, and where a character is actually from. Because if you have a character who was raised and trained in a particular culture, or by a particular species, then that would actually flip-flop what they consider to be normal and exotic. A noble warrior from an Eastern-inspired nation may never have seen the equivalent of the Dane ax with its 1d12 damage, but the katana would be the weapon he was trained to fight with, and to carry as his sidearm. Someone raised by orcs, or elves, or gnomes, might find the weapons and fighting styles of their adopted family and community came more naturally to them. And so on, and so forth.

This requires a lot more work on your part as a GM, and it means you need to communicate more with your players. You could even, if you wanted, have them trade proficiencies based on their unique backgrounds so they are customizing their history instead of using their backstory to just get free proficiencies that others at the table don't. But with so much of our games wrapped up in violence and the threat of violence, what our PCs bring to the battlefield matters. And there are so many fun, unique character concepts that people have just left behind because it took too many resources to make the more "exotic" choices work in their games.

Lastly, while we're on the subject of "exotic" weapon builds, my Tips For Building a Whip-Wielding Swashbuckler just got itself a facelift. If you want to see some of the gymnastics you have to go through to really crank up some unusual weapon choices, this guide makes a pretty good case for it in my opinion.

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

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Want To Get Your Character Involved in Plot? Remember Rule 303

One of the biggest issues I've seen around a gaming table is actually getting characters involved in the unfolding plot. Typically once everyone finds a reason to get involved, or a plot hook they're comfortable biting on, the game will be off to the races... but sometimes getting over that early hurdle can be a frustration.

For GMs and players alike.

Ogre raids? Sounds like a whole lot of not my problem.

That's why this week I'd like to introduce a concept that can really help make a game go more smoothly. Some folks might be familiar with it, but for those who aren't the term is Rule 303.

For those looking for another useful term, check out "Force Multiplication" is a Useful Idea For RPGs. And to make sure you don't miss out on any of my releases, consider signing up for my weekly newsletter!

Means, Opportunity, and Responsibility

The short version, according to Beau of The Fifth Column, is that Rule 303 means that if you have the means to hand, and the ability to help, then that implies you have a duty to get yourself involved in a situation. The term sees a lot of use among military contractors, as well as active duty folks, but you can apply it much more broadly than just in the profession of arms. If you see someone choking in a restaurant, and you know the Heimlich maneuver, you go over and help them expel the blockage. If you're a tall person and you see someone shorter struggling to reach a top shelf, you offer to get the thing down for them.

If you're a musclebound barbarian with a greatsword, and you're on-hand when bugbears are raiding the countryside, you unsheathe that beast and go to work.

Something else to remember is that this trait can manifest itself in a variety of different ways. For example, a character might be genuinely altruistic, and their desire to help people means they can't just walk on by if there's a serious problem that they have the means to fix. A character might be getting involved because it's a good excuse to show off, or because they think there could be a reward in it for them. It might coincide with a vow they took, or a core tenet of their faith.

At the end of the day, though, the player should ask themselves the first two questions of the formula. Because if you have the means to help, and you have the ability to help, then that suggests you also have the responsibility to get yourself involved in whatever nonsense is going down. Justification beyond that can't hurt, but if you jump in with both feet it makes the game go a lot smoother for everyone concerned.

And for those who are looking for some inspiration for characters who may have sworn oaths, accepted contracts, or who are simply part of an organization that would make them getting involved in solving problems easier for you to spin as a player, you might find some inspiration in some of my following supplements:

- 100 Random Mercenary Companies: From disciplined ranks of sellswords, to free-wheeling soldiers of fortune, those who want to embody the origins of Rule 303 can find plenty of inspiration in these free companies.

- 100 Knightly Orders: Whether you're a protector of the realm, or you're a wandering knight errant seeking to help the needy and protect the weak, this collection is full of orders you can swear your service to.

- 100 Secret Societies: The world at large doesn't need to know why you're helping out in this matter. And if you want to have a little cloak-and-dagger fun, these secret societies are always a ball to add into your history, and your game.

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, 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!

Avatar Games: When Players Play Themselves

Any gamer who's seen the Dungeons and Dragons cartoon show, or who's read books like the Magic Kingdom of Landover series has wondered what it would be like to step out of their normal, everyday lives and into a true adventure. We wonder whether we would be able to master swordplay well enough to fight for a nation's freedom, or if we'd be able to match wits with centuries-old vampires and come out ahead. For players who want to take the fantasy one step further, an avatar game is the next step.

What's an Avatar Game?

No, you don't get this till level 20.

An avatar is a manifestation of a Hindu deity, whether in human or animal form. The term is also used to discuss an archetype, or someone who represents an idea in physical form. In our case the term is used to describe a character who is as close to the player as the game rules allow. When an entire party is formed this way, the result is an avatar game.

How to Play

Character Creation

Avatar games are not like any other games. Players aren't creating a concept; they're re-creating themselves. We all like to think that we're stronger, smarter, more dexterous or more charming than we actually are, though, which can lead to problems if you let people choose their own stats.

I should totally have an 18 strength guys. Guys? What's so funny?

Because of this unfortunate tendency we have, it's important to come up with some method of character creation that takes as much creative control out of the individual player's hands as possible. One option is to design a test that all players take which provides them with basic stats and a class (if you're playing a game that uses a class, that is). There are dozens of these online, and I'm sure you've all seen them. On the other hand, if all the players have known each other for a long time it's often fun to have the players rate each other with the skills, attributes, and classes they think an individual should have. The storyteller can then average the other players' thoughts together, providing a finalized sheet.

It's important to mention that an avatar game should be accurate, but it should also be fun. If a player is really disappointed by what the measuring stick says he or she should play, then work together to find alternatives. Maybe the consensus is that an individual should be a rogue, but that person feels in a world of magic that he would throw himself into the study of the arcane to become a wizard. Listen to your players, but at the same time don't just give them everything they want. If the player with the graduate degree and an aversion to the gym really wants to be a master swordsman though, provide him the opportunity to pursue that kind of training as the story goes along.

The Hook and the Deus Ex Machina

Once characters are made, the DM needs to come up with some way to make these very normal players enter a very unusual situation. For some games this is exceedingly easy; for others, not so much.

"And, lo, four shall come on the full moon and speak these words," Huh... weird.

The further removed the game world is from the reality players live in, the more difficult a believable hook is going to be. For instance, if players are in a World of Darkness Mortals game, or even a Call of Cthulhu game, all the storyteller has to do is leave clues to the dark creatures lurking just behind the scenes. Maybe a local reporter hears about a rash of murders that track back to a vampire, or a police officer notices a pattern in animal attack reports that lead to a squamous being from the outer planes. These characters are just human, and the hook is that they've been living in the game world this whole time without any knowledge of it. Until now.

High fantasy avatar games, like those running on Pathfinder or Dungeons and Dragons, take a bit more work. Maybe players decide to visit some local ruins to check out a spook story, and end up accidentally stepping between worlds. Maybe they're victims of an anomaly that tears open different planes of existence caused by a reactor explosion, or a large Hadron collider experiment. Or, my personal favorite, a wizard mis-spoke a spell, and instead of pulling in a demon lord or a celestial host, what he ends up with is a party of 4 or 5 very confused geeks who were all in the middle of one activity or another who now have to figure out where they are and what the hell just happened.

Let The Games Begin!

The biggest challenge a storyteller has is, once the party has been assembled and the hook jerked, how realistic is the world around the players? For instance, if they're now in Golarion, does anyone speak English? Do the players take up a trade or some kind of apprenticeship to incorporate themselves into the fabric of a community before becoming adventurers? If players discover a group of cultists in the local goth scene, are they the kind of people who will call the police and the media, or are the players in fact the sort who would go in fists swinging?

You do what, now?

Building a realistic world is key for getting players to, well, be themselves. While there's going to be an unavoidable bit of "OMG, I want to start playing super-powered me already!" it can be cut short with solid world-building and the right atmosphere. Don't nit-pick every little thing, but don't just look at them and say "And you're in Ravenloft! Okay, what do you do now?"

Tips and Tricks

Avatar games can be a lot of fun; they're also very easy to mess up. As such there are a few things that the person running this whole mess needs to keep in mind.

Rule One: Show, Don't Tell

You expect me to believe what now?

One of the best ways to make players really keep their heads in the game is for storytellers to paint a scene. I covered this here on the Literary Mercenary, and here on this very blog, but it cannot be repeated enough. Don't tell players what monsters they're fighting, what world they're in, or even what country they're seeing. Make players, and their avatar characters, dope it out. This keeps the players involved, and it keeps them on their toes. Out of character talking and idea sharing is sometimes all right, but it will kill the mood and destroy the tension you need in order to really sell the world players have entered.

Rule Two: Level One Characters Aren't Heroes

This is not the hero you're looking for.

We know, because we're playing the game, that the party is going to be the focus of the plot eventually. However, even in a game like Scion where players are the half-breed children of gods, no one starts at the top. So, if a storyteller feels that the "chosen ones" card must be played, it's going to strain credibility. Who are you, after all, but a bunch of nobodies. Just because you managed to find a changeling freehold, or you accidentally wound up stumbling into the Forgotten Realms, that doesn't make you special. Especially not if the threat in question requires characters of exceptional power to take on.

Rule Three: Beware the Monkey Wrench

Where the hell did I put that thing...?

We all know this player. He's the guy who decides to take the left hand path for no apparent reason, or the girl who decides she'd rather stay at the tavern and drink than go ogre-slaying. These are the players who say "no" to plot, and who will do their level best to avoid whatever needs-to-happen stuff that goes on in a game. Monkey wrenches are like very stubborn mules; give them a carrot, and they will chase it right where it needs to go.

For instance, say that your party has been transported to Golarion. The entire goal of the campaign is for players to try and get back home because of friends, loved ones, spouses, children, etc. However, let's say your resident monkey wrench decides that he really likes living in a world of magic and mayhem. Perhaps he decides he'd rather carve out a kingdom and live like a duke than go back to a 9-5 gig working retail. Or flip the circumstances around, and say that everyone else is gung-ho to become the next lords and ladies of the realm, but one character's entire focus is to get home to her children. It's your job to dope this out and to incorporate it into the game so that everyone can move forward.

This is another reason why really powerful rails are a bad idea. Establish some general things you want to happen, and work out with your players the arcs they'd prefer to go through before the first session. Don't tell players what to do; lay out the options they have, and see which way they go. You will have far fewer headaches by simply setting up the world and the events in question than trying to force anyone to do anything.


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