So I've been tossing this around in my head and I may have found a good method for coming up with futuristic sounding names. I mentioned syllables are like building blocks, and I linked that cool Drow Name Generator thing because sometimes all you need is a beginning, some blocks to play with. While sleep deprived I might have come up with a decent method of obtaining those syllabic building blocks.
So, the idea is that you take a name and reverse it. Don't just do that, though. Because it's really obvious. Instead, say it out loud and use those sounds to "rewrite" a name out of it. Do it several times, and pick from what you've got. Chances are the first name will sound spacey enough for Star Wars. The last name can sometimes be weird, but thankfully Star Wars has a world quirk of people slamming two descriptives together for a last name like we're all Native Americans in a lameass space western, so you can just replace the last name with some thematic adjectives if it ends up sounding bad.
So let's do an example. Say we're playing a Noble who's going to be taking the famous artist prestige class. Say he's kind of a shlub who's not that talented and wants to get into music for the money and not for the art. So we'll start with the name Chad Kroeger for no reason.
Chad Kroeger = Dahc Regeork
Dahc could be Dac, Dace, Datch, Dach or Doc just by playing with the sound a little bit.
Regeork could turn into Regork, Reejork, Rejak. We're manipulating the sound a lot here because Kroeger isn't giving us a lot of room, but that's okay. If we don't come up with anything, we can also replace this with an adjective smash like Soundkiller, or in Chad's case Buttrocker.
So basically from Chad Kroeger we got a really decent Star Wars name like Datch Rejak. It sounds like plenty of other Star Wars names like Dash Rendar, Anakin Skywalker, or Leia Organa. If I didn't tell you where I got that name, you probably wouldn't track it back to Chad Kroeger anyway.
Maybe this doesn't always fit. Maybe I'm just struck with how well it works with Chad's name. I think this is a great starting point though, especially if you're stumped. A piece of paper, a few names and a few minutes and you're bound to come up with SOMETHING.
Wednesday, August 31, 2016
Sunday, August 28, 2016
Mystery and Obscurantism
"What's the most you ever lost on a coin toss?"
We're discussing another tool in the GM's toolbox, but this time it's a story tool. The basic definition of Obscurantism is the practice of deliberate restriction of facts. When discussing the real world, this refers to things like a ruling class not making education available to the masses. A secondary definition is the practice of deliberately making knowledge obtuse or hard to grasp, something that was apparently super popular to accuse philosophers of to imply they don't know what they're talking about, and just writing down a bunch of bullshit.
Basically we're discussing the deliberate restriction of knowledge. To what end? Well, in movies and video games, Obscurantism is used to make something seem more important and intellectual than it really is. The Matrix trilogy is very fond of this tactic, using junk philosophy to make a set of dumb action movies seem like they're far more intellectual than they really are. Mystery can also make for a serious "Cool factor" attached to a concept, place or character in your movie, an attitude and feel that you can't otherwise emulate. Usually in a movie using Obscurantism this is a bad thing because it's deceptive and cheap. It's a crutch used by some filmmakers to make it look like their movie is so super mega intellectual and clever that you just don't "GET it". Donnie Darko can be arguably accused of Obscurantism. A lot of avant-garde arthouse movies can too, and some whole filmmakers like Terrance Malik, Lars Von Trier or David Lynch have been accused of overuse of this tactic. Every once in a while it's used acceptably, though. What's in the suitcase in Pulp Fiction? The fact that you never know is arguably the entire point. However, the contents of the suitcase aren't really integral to the plot, and it's just there for feel and to put weight to Marcellus Wallace as a crime boss. Nevermind that the script says it's just a shitload of diamonds. Or if you hate Pulp Fiction...what's the deal with the Cowboy in The Big Lebowski? Why's he the narrator, and what's he doing at a bowling alley in California? There's no answer to that question, and that's on purpose. Maybe the Coen Brothers know...but maybe they don't.
Editor's Note: I ran across this while proofreading and editing my blog and I felt really stupid for including it. The Coen Brothers know. They always know. Nothing in their movies is included for no reason. Nothing.
So what's this mean to you? Well, you could certainly accuse David Lynch of creating scenes and plot lines that have no real intellectual substance and exist just to make you think there's some sort of mystery. However, Lynch believes that a movie is wholly an emotional experience...so maybe he'd even agree with you. Obscurantism is nearly always bad in a movie, but in a Pen and Paper game it can be a tone-setting emotionally manipulative buddy. Mysteries are cool, a lot of the time way cooler than the answer. We love pondering the answer to things, putting clues together and hunting for the truth. See also "Why Lost was so popular for so long".
It's totally okay to put a mystery in your game just to put a mystery there. In fact, it's perfectly okay for you to not know the answer to that mystery right away. Imagine an asterisk on the end of that statement, though. One the size of a mac truck. The thing is, with every mystery, you have a time limit. You can trickle clues to the PCs or wing it on answering their questions, but you do eventually need to decide what the answer is, whether you intend to ever give it out or not. Obscurantism is at its worst when there simply is no answer, and you should avoid that as much as possible. Your players will eventually notice when you're just being coy or when you're making shit up, I promise you. See also, "Why nobody remembers Lost very fondly".
So if you decide to toss a mystery out there without knowing the answer, you're racing your player's curiosity. I can't tell you how much time you've got to come up with an answer, because it depends entirely on how nosy your players are and how cool the mystery is. Learn how and when to place clues to keep their interest going, and remember it's okay for the PCs to "dead end" every once in a while, but try to do so reasonably. Don't just shut them down, try to feed them clues that won't necessarily blow open into a whole wealth of knowledge you don't want to feed them just yet, because flat out saying "no" is really obvious. You want them to be interested and thinking of ways to find the next clue, not thinking "Oh, that's all we're getting right now regardless of what I do. Fine."
You need to know when to pay off and when not to, though. The more important a mystery is to the main story, the more important it's going to be for you to 'pay it off' and let the players find the answer at some point. Never just hand them the answer, instead you can trigger their final investigation by handing them a key piece of evidence. Even if you haven't been carefully crafting this mystery(which is totally fine) you can still think of something that'll basically reveal the answer without actually revealing the answer, like finding the skin-suit that proves the PC's contact is actually an alien, or reliable evidence of someone being in literally two places at once.
But, if it's a side story, a side NPC, or something that's maybe not so important...feel free to never pay it off, even OOCly. If the players are content to simply discuss the mystery and aren't particularly keen on following the rabbit hole, let it lie. If they're burning with curiosity long after the game's been finished, maybe tell them then. I've sat on the answer to key mysteries for years simply out of hope that I'll be able to give them a proper reveal some day. Don't feel bad doing the same....just remember the answer has to be there, even if you never tell anyone.
We're discussing another tool in the GM's toolbox, but this time it's a story tool. The basic definition of Obscurantism is the practice of deliberate restriction of facts. When discussing the real world, this refers to things like a ruling class not making education available to the masses. A secondary definition is the practice of deliberately making knowledge obtuse or hard to grasp, something that was apparently super popular to accuse philosophers of to imply they don't know what they're talking about, and just writing down a bunch of bullshit.
Basically we're discussing the deliberate restriction of knowledge. To what end? Well, in movies and video games, Obscurantism is used to make something seem more important and intellectual than it really is. The Matrix trilogy is very fond of this tactic, using junk philosophy to make a set of dumb action movies seem like they're far more intellectual than they really are. Mystery can also make for a serious "Cool factor" attached to a concept, place or character in your movie, an attitude and feel that you can't otherwise emulate. Usually in a movie using Obscurantism this is a bad thing because it's deceptive and cheap. It's a crutch used by some filmmakers to make it look like their movie is so super mega intellectual and clever that you just don't "GET it". Donnie Darko can be arguably accused of Obscurantism. A lot of avant-garde arthouse movies can too, and some whole filmmakers like Terrance Malik, Lars Von Trier or David Lynch have been accused of overuse of this tactic. Every once in a while it's used acceptably, though. What's in the suitcase in Pulp Fiction? The fact that you never know is arguably the entire point. However, the contents of the suitcase aren't really integral to the plot, and it's just there for feel and to put weight to Marcellus Wallace as a crime boss. Nevermind that the script says it's just a shitload of diamonds. Or if you hate Pulp Fiction...what's the deal with the Cowboy in The Big Lebowski? Why's he the narrator, and what's he doing at a bowling alley in California? There's no answer to that question, and that's on purpose. Maybe the Coen Brothers know...but maybe they don't.
Editor's Note: I ran across this while proofreading and editing my blog and I felt really stupid for including it. The Coen Brothers know. They always know. Nothing in their movies is included for no reason. Nothing.
So what's this mean to you? Well, you could certainly accuse David Lynch of creating scenes and plot lines that have no real intellectual substance and exist just to make you think there's some sort of mystery. However, Lynch believes that a movie is wholly an emotional experience...so maybe he'd even agree with you. Obscurantism is nearly always bad in a movie, but in a Pen and Paper game it can be a tone-setting emotionally manipulative buddy. Mysteries are cool, a lot of the time way cooler than the answer. We love pondering the answer to things, putting clues together and hunting for the truth. See also "Why Lost was so popular for so long".
It's totally okay to put a mystery in your game just to put a mystery there. In fact, it's perfectly okay for you to not know the answer to that mystery right away. Imagine an asterisk on the end of that statement, though. One the size of a mac truck. The thing is, with every mystery, you have a time limit. You can trickle clues to the PCs or wing it on answering their questions, but you do eventually need to decide what the answer is, whether you intend to ever give it out or not. Obscurantism is at its worst when there simply is no answer, and you should avoid that as much as possible. Your players will eventually notice when you're just being coy or when you're making shit up, I promise you. See also, "Why nobody remembers Lost very fondly".
So if you decide to toss a mystery out there without knowing the answer, you're racing your player's curiosity. I can't tell you how much time you've got to come up with an answer, because it depends entirely on how nosy your players are and how cool the mystery is. Learn how and when to place clues to keep their interest going, and remember it's okay for the PCs to "dead end" every once in a while, but try to do so reasonably. Don't just shut them down, try to feed them clues that won't necessarily blow open into a whole wealth of knowledge you don't want to feed them just yet, because flat out saying "no" is really obvious. You want them to be interested and thinking of ways to find the next clue, not thinking "Oh, that's all we're getting right now regardless of what I do. Fine."
You need to know when to pay off and when not to, though. The more important a mystery is to the main story, the more important it's going to be for you to 'pay it off' and let the players find the answer at some point. Never just hand them the answer, instead you can trigger their final investigation by handing them a key piece of evidence. Even if you haven't been carefully crafting this mystery(which is totally fine) you can still think of something that'll basically reveal the answer without actually revealing the answer, like finding the skin-suit that proves the PC's contact is actually an alien, or reliable evidence of someone being in literally two places at once.
But, if it's a side story, a side NPC, or something that's maybe not so important...feel free to never pay it off, even OOCly. If the players are content to simply discuss the mystery and aren't particularly keen on following the rabbit hole, let it lie. If they're burning with curiosity long after the game's been finished, maybe tell them then. I've sat on the answer to key mysteries for years simply out of hope that I'll be able to give them a proper reveal some day. Don't feel bad doing the same....just remember the answer has to be there, even if you never tell anyone.
Sunday, August 14, 2016
Well, Logically...
"Logic is the beginning of wisdom, Valeris, not the end."
So this isn't labeled as a rant, but it's close. Consider this your warning label for weird rambling and loud funny words. When you run(or play in) a game, you're telling a story. There's a lot of important bits to a story, especially one driven by random challenges, open-ended encounters and a story written by three to five people together. Every work of fiction has a certain feel to it, an internal set of rules called Tone. It's a complex and dense topic, but it boils down to the fact that the rules of the fictional world are different than the real world. The writer is distilling their emotions down to a set of rules and functions that'll make you feel the same way they did.
We're not talking just about tone today. We're talking about a particular habit that destroys it.
Tone is a set of rules a world functions by. Some of them are very common, like explosions in action movies being about as dangerous as fireworks, or the main characters shrugging off an immense amount of physical harm. Other times it's a little more esoteric than that, like the police in a horror movie being worthless, or Eddie Valiant not bothering to call the police after Roger and Jessica Rabbit were kidnapped by an obvious psycho. These actions frequently break logic, and that's sort of the point: You're meant to feel a certain way and logic would ruin it like a toddler knocking over a sandcastle. The cops are useless because you're supposed to feel helpless like the main character does. Eddie Valiant doesn't involve the cops because he's independent and self reliant, and Nuke'em High is located less than a quarter mile from a dangerously filthy nuclear power plant because that's hilarious, god dammit.
We tend to accept tone and mood of a movie, with exceptions being only when the movie steps too far out of line, or if the viewer is a nitpicking little shit. We've even accepted gaping plot holes in the name of tone, like an entire movie based around a man's final words that nobody was around to hear. However, in my experience this mentality starts to break down when you talk about Pen and Paper games. Invariably, my least favorite phrase in the English language comes out and someone starts arguing about what would "logically" happen in a situation, often claiming the rules of the game broke down on some level.
I'd like to be clear, "Well, Logically..." is where fun goes to die.
Tone works on a set of rules, more or less. Pen and Paper games have rules. I hope you see where I'm going with this. Part of the reason I'm always saying to use the rules as presented is because the rules of the game you're playing, ANY game, contribute heavily to the game's tone. Most people don't seem to realize this and instead feel that a game's rules are the way they are out of approximation of real life or favoring streamlined play over realism. That couldn't be further from the truth in many situations, though. Deadlands has an entire set of special rules for the quick-draw, high noon staredown not because it's likely to come up a lot, but because it's meant to be a super important event in a western themed game. Shadowrun's deadly not because it's "logical" that people die when shot a few times but because it's a world where life is cheap and action is meant to heavily feature subterfuge and stealth.
So what I'm saying is that when a rule says someone can do something, try not to bitch just because you don't think it should "logically" go that way. If you want to alter the tone of your game, either pick a system closer to realism, or come up with alternate rules at the beginning of the game and give everyone plenty of time to discuss them. Arguments beginning with "Well, Logically..." create a double standard where the player has to worry about whatever's "logical" to the GM as well as the rules of the game.
And sorry, Spock, but what's logical and what's not can be very subjective. Remember when I said there's no way for you to adequately explain your "line" of game balance? It's the same thing. Often, wrecking a game's tone comes hand in hand with an attempt to singularly control how things are going...and I told you before that's wrong. The game's rules are not only the arbiter between the GM and the players, they also help you set the tone of the game. Dungeons and Dragons is the way it is, with no wound penalties, simplified fall damage, and ridiculous movement rules because the PCs are meant to feel like heroes, not because they didn't try hard enough when making the game. "Lawyering" to get your way is a lot like cutting off your nose to spite your face. Also, while I'm at it? Changing your approach from argument to argument just to more easily get what you want is really, really obvious and it makes people not like you.
So before you argue, consider what tone you want your game to have, and what you want the players to have to worry about, because that's what butting in with our old pal "logic" does: it sets a precedence for what the player is going to be concerned about over the course of the game. If you complain about food spoilage once, it'll be forever in their heads, for example. However, I'm not saying you'll never have to do it: Sometimes the rules do break down a little bit, and you'll have to step in and just say "no" or more often "Dude, come on.". Just think before you do, since areas where a system breaks down really are pretty noticeable, especially with older, oversimplified systems. Rules being abused to strange effect are also very glaring and loopholes are easier to spot than most people think.
A special note for the GM here. There's a lot of things that go into making a great game. There's a lot of things you need to think about and keep in mind. Fun is obviously your number one. Tone, mechanics, the world, the plot, the upcoming challenges...and I swear to you, how realistic your game is isn't even in the top twenty. It's not nearly as important as you might think. You're building a story, not a simulation.
So this isn't labeled as a rant, but it's close. Consider this your warning label for weird rambling and loud funny words. When you run(or play in) a game, you're telling a story. There's a lot of important bits to a story, especially one driven by random challenges, open-ended encounters and a story written by three to five people together. Every work of fiction has a certain feel to it, an internal set of rules called Tone. It's a complex and dense topic, but it boils down to the fact that the rules of the fictional world are different than the real world. The writer is distilling their emotions down to a set of rules and functions that'll make you feel the same way they did.
We're not talking just about tone today. We're talking about a particular habit that destroys it.
Tone is a set of rules a world functions by. Some of them are very common, like explosions in action movies being about as dangerous as fireworks, or the main characters shrugging off an immense amount of physical harm. Other times it's a little more esoteric than that, like the police in a horror movie being worthless, or Eddie Valiant not bothering to call the police after Roger and Jessica Rabbit were kidnapped by an obvious psycho. These actions frequently break logic, and that's sort of the point: You're meant to feel a certain way and logic would ruin it like a toddler knocking over a sandcastle. The cops are useless because you're supposed to feel helpless like the main character does. Eddie Valiant doesn't involve the cops because he's independent and self reliant, and Nuke'em High is located less than a quarter mile from a dangerously filthy nuclear power plant because that's hilarious, god dammit.
We tend to accept tone and mood of a movie, with exceptions being only when the movie steps too far out of line, or if the viewer is a nitpicking little shit. We've even accepted gaping plot holes in the name of tone, like an entire movie based around a man's final words that nobody was around to hear. However, in my experience this mentality starts to break down when you talk about Pen and Paper games. Invariably, my least favorite phrase in the English language comes out and someone starts arguing about what would "logically" happen in a situation, often claiming the rules of the game broke down on some level.
I'd like to be clear, "Well, Logically..." is where fun goes to die.
Tone works on a set of rules, more or less. Pen and Paper games have rules. I hope you see where I'm going with this. Part of the reason I'm always saying to use the rules as presented is because the rules of the game you're playing, ANY game, contribute heavily to the game's tone. Most people don't seem to realize this and instead feel that a game's rules are the way they are out of approximation of real life or favoring streamlined play over realism. That couldn't be further from the truth in many situations, though. Deadlands has an entire set of special rules for the quick-draw, high noon staredown not because it's likely to come up a lot, but because it's meant to be a super important event in a western themed game. Shadowrun's deadly not because it's "logical" that people die when shot a few times but because it's a world where life is cheap and action is meant to heavily feature subterfuge and stealth.
So what I'm saying is that when a rule says someone can do something, try not to bitch just because you don't think it should "logically" go that way. If you want to alter the tone of your game, either pick a system closer to realism, or come up with alternate rules at the beginning of the game and give everyone plenty of time to discuss them. Arguments beginning with "Well, Logically..." create a double standard where the player has to worry about whatever's "logical" to the GM as well as the rules of the game.
And sorry, Spock, but what's logical and what's not can be very subjective. Remember when I said there's no way for you to adequately explain your "line" of game balance? It's the same thing. Often, wrecking a game's tone comes hand in hand with an attempt to singularly control how things are going...and I told you before that's wrong. The game's rules are not only the arbiter between the GM and the players, they also help you set the tone of the game. Dungeons and Dragons is the way it is, with no wound penalties, simplified fall damage, and ridiculous movement rules because the PCs are meant to feel like heroes, not because they didn't try hard enough when making the game. "Lawyering" to get your way is a lot like cutting off your nose to spite your face. Also, while I'm at it? Changing your approach from argument to argument just to more easily get what you want is really, really obvious and it makes people not like you.
So before you argue, consider what tone you want your game to have, and what you want the players to have to worry about, because that's what butting in with our old pal "logic" does: it sets a precedence for what the player is going to be concerned about over the course of the game. If you complain about food spoilage once, it'll be forever in their heads, for example. However, I'm not saying you'll never have to do it: Sometimes the rules do break down a little bit, and you'll have to step in and just say "no" or more often "Dude, come on.". Just think before you do, since areas where a system breaks down really are pretty noticeable, especially with older, oversimplified systems. Rules being abused to strange effect are also very glaring and loopholes are easier to spot than most people think.
A special note for the GM here. There's a lot of things that go into making a great game. There's a lot of things you need to think about and keep in mind. Fun is obviously your number one. Tone, mechanics, the world, the plot, the upcoming challenges...and I swear to you, how realistic your game is isn't even in the top twenty. It's not nearly as important as you might think. You're building a story, not a simulation.
Sunday, August 7, 2016
Villain 105: Means
"Now witness the firepower of this fully armed and operational battlestation!"
Welcome to the end of the Villain 100s series. If you've gotten this far, you're in the clear. Today we're talking about an easy and well understood topic, Means. The villain's Means are the resources and powers they're using to accomplish their goals, like Joker's Smilex gas, Mola Ram's army of murderous cultists(and his mind control...and the KALI MAH thing...), or Jigsaw's traps. The Means control the way a game feels more than anything else, since it'll be present even when the villain themself is not. Today we're also talking about how to react to player preparation as a bonus sub topic.
Anyway, the villain's Means includes anything you can justify them having in specific, so the theming is generally more important. The players are generally not going to question what the villain had at their disposal unless it's really far out of line, and a lot of the time a simple explanation is all you need. Big Bad villains tend to have gold, and gold can buy you a lot of assorted low-morals monsters and thugs. Magic is also a huge justification, and saying the villain used a dominate or charm spell will also go a pretty far way. Finally, villains tend to be charismatic, and it can be easy for a PC to assume a lackey was convinced with honeyed words and promises, or threatened and intimidated into line. I've found most decent PCs want to believe and 'get on with it'.
The question of the means changing significantly or being irrational can also push the plot, if you're obvious enough. In the case of our previous example The Mournful Bard, they function as a bard villain until part way through the plot where they finds a powerful necromantic artifact. This is a very important plot point, so it happens off-screen where the PCs can't prevent them from taking it(sorry guys), and instead will eventually find the empty, sprawling mausoleum the Bard broke into to steal it. This creates a halfway point where the Mournful Bard's Means change from social manipulation and paid-off thugs to an army of the dead, wearing masquerade masks and ruined finery. This changes the feel of the game considerably, makes their efforts feel more serious and "Irises out" the focus of the game. They're not just threatening a few people or a city,They're threatening the WORLD. That's all us just going from thugs to zombies, guys, aside from descriptives from the GM. The amusing thing is, we made all those changes and the average combat encounter doesn't have to change THAT much.
This is a sidenote, but if you're struggling to figure out a feel for your D20 pathfinder or D&D game, look no further than the undead. There are a massive amount of undead monsters out there, and they're all deliciously weird. Look up some weirdass monsters online, plumb through some old D&D books, and you'll never want for variation. The undead seem to be a publisher's go-to monster for filling a few pages out.
Anyway, that's your bottom line when it comes to Means, you're controlling how the encounters you run will feel, mechanically. Obviously you can(AND SHOULD) mix this up with short-subplot encounters or non-plot chance encounters or whatever, but the villain's means will generally control how encounters will go and how the PCs will prepare. You can(and should) come up with signature monsters the villain uses so the PCs feel familiar and have encounters where they feel they immediately know what they should do, but also mix this up with new challenges so nothing gets to feel old or tired. Casting a wide net to what the villain can logically have at their fingertips is key.
I said mechanically because when you choose a general 'type' of monster, they have common elements to them. The undead type not only brings a host of immunities, but most undead monsters have some form of 'nasty' attack like ability damage, drain, or crowd control. Abberations have strange and worrying abilities or inspire madness in some form. Dragons have powerful physical attacks, and even PC class cultists will tend toward a small list of classes. All of this controls how a game will feel to play it on the mechanical side, and be aware that this is what you're deciding with Means.
Means can also be a macguffin or threat, something the villain already has and can use that the PCs feel they must prevent. For example, the heroes of Star Wars were never in danger of the Empire killing them with the Death Star. The crew of the Enterprise were never in danger of Khan firing the Genesis Device at them like it's a fucking ray beam. The stakes were higher than that because it wasn't JUST the PC's ass on the line. Just make sure you're not creating a plot hole here, because in both of my examples, the massively powerful weapon the villains had in their possession simply do not work like that: they can't be used against individual people. Be sure there's a reason the villain can't or won't do the same.
A final note on preparation. The PCs will notice your theming, they will generally find out the villain's Means rather quickly and prepare accordingly. Let them. In fact, sometimes it's best to warn them of theming before the game begins so they don't accidentally build a character who has an ability that's going to be negated a significant amount of the time. After it's obvious the PCs have prepared(like with swarm-destroying AOE attacks, bane weapons, anti-vehicle explosives, and so on) you can adjust your combat encounters accordingly, but never, ever make a habit of negating their preparation. Even if they're really, badly wrong about what they're about to face, try to guide them a little bit. You can pull a "fake out" MAYBE once in your game, but keep in mind it's always going to feel Meta. As in, the PC's preparation is always going to have the game's rules in mind, and your fake-out is going to feel the same way, like it's seated in the game's rules and not fully in-character. Partial negations are fine and sometimes suggested to keep the PCs on their toes, like the PCs finding a nest of ghouls also has a young dragon nesting inside it. Some systems even have deliberate fake-out monsters in them, like the yellow musk creeper that makes "zombies" that aren't really zombies, or golems that appear like another type. Use these sparingly and not with a lot of build-up, it's much more satisfying to encounter one suddenly and figure out its weaknesses on the battlefield than to prepare for like an hour of real time then find out nothing you brought works on it.
In fact, if nothing else, take that lesson away from Villains 105: The more you make preparation a trap, the closer the PCs get to not fucking doing it, and instead glumly marching toward the next encounter in complete blindness. You take away a significant portion of a pen and paper game's fun by constantly listening in and foiling them in a meta nature instead of offering challenges and letting them fail or succeed honestly.
So, The Villains 100 class is over, and I hope everyone learned something. What can we expect for the future? Well, there's going to be a Villains 200s course in the future. We built the bones of our villain with these lessons, and next we build the flesh, the more subtle and subjective things like personality and quirks. Also coming up are full page villain examples, some invented just for this and some coming from games I've played in the past. Those will most likely come up in the middle of the week, depending on how much time I've got to write them. See you then.
Welcome to the end of the Villain 100s series. If you've gotten this far, you're in the clear. Today we're talking about an easy and well understood topic, Means. The villain's Means are the resources and powers they're using to accomplish their goals, like Joker's Smilex gas, Mola Ram's army of murderous cultists(and his mind control...and the KALI MAH thing...), or Jigsaw's traps. The Means control the way a game feels more than anything else, since it'll be present even when the villain themself is not. Today we're also talking about how to react to player preparation as a bonus sub topic.
Anyway, the villain's Means includes anything you can justify them having in specific, so the theming is generally more important. The players are generally not going to question what the villain had at their disposal unless it's really far out of line, and a lot of the time a simple explanation is all you need. Big Bad villains tend to have gold, and gold can buy you a lot of assorted low-morals monsters and thugs. Magic is also a huge justification, and saying the villain used a dominate or charm spell will also go a pretty far way. Finally, villains tend to be charismatic, and it can be easy for a PC to assume a lackey was convinced with honeyed words and promises, or threatened and intimidated into line. I've found most decent PCs want to believe and 'get on with it'.
The question of the means changing significantly or being irrational can also push the plot, if you're obvious enough. In the case of our previous example The Mournful Bard, they function as a bard villain until part way through the plot where they finds a powerful necromantic artifact. This is a very important plot point, so it happens off-screen where the PCs can't prevent them from taking it(sorry guys), and instead will eventually find the empty, sprawling mausoleum the Bard broke into to steal it. This creates a halfway point where the Mournful Bard's Means change from social manipulation and paid-off thugs to an army of the dead, wearing masquerade masks and ruined finery. This changes the feel of the game considerably, makes their efforts feel more serious and "Irises out" the focus of the game. They're not just threatening a few people or a city,They're threatening the WORLD. That's all us just going from thugs to zombies, guys, aside from descriptives from the GM. The amusing thing is, we made all those changes and the average combat encounter doesn't have to change THAT much.
This is a sidenote, but if you're struggling to figure out a feel for your D20 pathfinder or D&D game, look no further than the undead. There are a massive amount of undead monsters out there, and they're all deliciously weird. Look up some weirdass monsters online, plumb through some old D&D books, and you'll never want for variation. The undead seem to be a publisher's go-to monster for filling a few pages out.
Anyway, that's your bottom line when it comes to Means, you're controlling how the encounters you run will feel, mechanically. Obviously you can(AND SHOULD) mix this up with short-subplot encounters or non-plot chance encounters or whatever, but the villain's means will generally control how encounters will go and how the PCs will prepare. You can(and should) come up with signature monsters the villain uses so the PCs feel familiar and have encounters where they feel they immediately know what they should do, but also mix this up with new challenges so nothing gets to feel old or tired. Casting a wide net to what the villain can logically have at their fingertips is key.
I said mechanically because when you choose a general 'type' of monster, they have common elements to them. The undead type not only brings a host of immunities, but most undead monsters have some form of 'nasty' attack like ability damage, drain, or crowd control. Abberations have strange and worrying abilities or inspire madness in some form. Dragons have powerful physical attacks, and even PC class cultists will tend toward a small list of classes. All of this controls how a game will feel to play it on the mechanical side, and be aware that this is what you're deciding with Means.
Means can also be a macguffin or threat, something the villain already has and can use that the PCs feel they must prevent. For example, the heroes of Star Wars were never in danger of the Empire killing them with the Death Star. The crew of the Enterprise were never in danger of Khan firing the Genesis Device at them like it's a fucking ray beam. The stakes were higher than that because it wasn't JUST the PC's ass on the line. Just make sure you're not creating a plot hole here, because in both of my examples, the massively powerful weapon the villains had in their possession simply do not work like that: they can't be used against individual people. Be sure there's a reason the villain can't or won't do the same.
A final note on preparation. The PCs will notice your theming, they will generally find out the villain's Means rather quickly and prepare accordingly. Let them. In fact, sometimes it's best to warn them of theming before the game begins so they don't accidentally build a character who has an ability that's going to be negated a significant amount of the time. After it's obvious the PCs have prepared(like with swarm-destroying AOE attacks, bane weapons, anti-vehicle explosives, and so on) you can adjust your combat encounters accordingly, but never, ever make a habit of negating their preparation. Even if they're really, badly wrong about what they're about to face, try to guide them a little bit. You can pull a "fake out" MAYBE once in your game, but keep in mind it's always going to feel Meta. As in, the PC's preparation is always going to have the game's rules in mind, and your fake-out is going to feel the same way, like it's seated in the game's rules and not fully in-character. Partial negations are fine and sometimes suggested to keep the PCs on their toes, like the PCs finding a nest of ghouls also has a young dragon nesting inside it. Some systems even have deliberate fake-out monsters in them, like the yellow musk creeper that makes "zombies" that aren't really zombies, or golems that appear like another type. Use these sparingly and not with a lot of build-up, it's much more satisfying to encounter one suddenly and figure out its weaknesses on the battlefield than to prepare for like an hour of real time then find out nothing you brought works on it.
In fact, if nothing else, take that lesson away from Villains 105: The more you make preparation a trap, the closer the PCs get to not fucking doing it, and instead glumly marching toward the next encounter in complete blindness. You take away a significant portion of a pen and paper game's fun by constantly listening in and foiling them in a meta nature instead of offering challenges and letting them fail or succeed honestly.
So, The Villains 100 class is over, and I hope everyone learned something. What can we expect for the future? Well, there's going to be a Villains 200s course in the future. We built the bones of our villain with these lessons, and next we build the flesh, the more subtle and subjective things like personality and quirks. Also coming up are full page villain examples, some invented just for this and some coming from games I've played in the past. Those will most likely come up in the middle of the week, depending on how much time I've got to write them. See you then.
Tuesday, August 2, 2016
Heward's Revenge
Heward was a simple mage fascinated by dimensional mechanics, but mostly he was a man who really, really liked order. He invented many minor spells for cataloging, cleaning, ordering and tidying, but he was never truly known for his efforts. He even invented quite a few magic items, but Heward's Amazing Hiking Staff, Heward's Astonishing Mop Bucket, and Heward's Mind Blowing Book Slipcover never really grew popular.
That is, until he combined his love of dimensional mechanics with his love of storage space. He did not invent the Bag of Holding, but he was fond of saying he perfected it. He made a tidy sum selling the first of Heward's Handy Haversack, and even more teaching other enterprising enchanters how to make them. Finally satisfied with the impact he'd made on the world(and how orderly it was), he settled into semi-retirement.
That is, until he was visited by some of the members of Greyhawk's Circle of Eight. Mordenkainen, Tenser, and Bigby payed an unannounced visit to him, looking rather somber. As he invited them in(and activated Heward's Terrific Tea Pot Which Doesn't Ever Spill) he was told by the mages that something horrible had happened: Wizards of the Coast had decided to remove the mage's names. To compound the problem, there was a new game coming out called Pathfinder, which wasn't even set in Greyhawk at all.
"What will happen to my legacy, then?" He asked.
They told him it would simply be called the Handy Haversack. Bigby added that Drawmij took the news rather well, and that Heward still had all that gold. Still, the mage was incensed. He thanked them for their time, through clenched teeth and forced politeness. That night, he set about working on a new masterpiece. They will fear his passing, even if they did not remember him...
Heward's Harrowing Handbag
Aura: Strong Conjuration
CL: 15th
Slot: None
Weight: 5lbs
This item looks precisely like a Handy Haversack, and functions as such in simple tests. However, in combat or in a social situation that could cause even the slightest amount of emotional strife, the curse activates. Instead of whatever the user wishes to be on top of the Handbag, it instead produces a random embarrassing item, as appropriate. The item does not have to be one the victim actually owns, but it will produce owned items if it would be particularly embarrassing to do so. Otherwise, it can contain, but is not limited to the following.
1-5 A Giant Black Dildo (shape: 1-60 human, 61-90 animal, 91-100 mythical beast)
6-10 Underwear that looks suspiciously like it belongs to another party member
11-15 A ball gag
16-20 A fuzzy animal costume with head
21-25 Embarrassingly Graphic Pornography (opposite to victim's tastes or orientation, if possible)
26-30 An awful looking gaudy sweater made by the victim's mother
31-35 Incredibly cheesy poetry penned by the victim
36-40 Very badly taxidermied small animals
41-45 Gross looking half-eaten food
46-50 Remedial skill guide book, as appropriate for victim's class
51-55 "How to pick up women" guide(or men, whichever would be worse)
56-60 Role playing game materials
61-65 Portrait that looks like it could be victim's mother but she's very ugly
66-70 Feetie Pajamas sized for victim
71-75 Sketch of victim while young that makes them look very geeky and awkward
76-80 Very bad romance novel with embarrassing picture on cover
81-85 Prayer materials appropriate for a really stupid god(opposite to what victim would worship)
86-90 Ugly bright red papercraft heart that says "2 Week Anniversary! 2 Gether 4 Ever!" on it
91-95 Gimp Mask
96-100 Well used stuffed animal or security blanket
The handbag works normally for anyone except the owner of the bag, and a new owner is declared once someone has spent at least 24 hours wearing or carrying the bag. It goes without saying that most of the false items retrieved are worthless, but any attempts to sell the 'false' items retrieved will be met with severe derision, laughter, and the shopkeeper giving uncommonly poor prices unless the person purchasing the item makes a DC 30 will save. Retrieving the item you actually want out of the Handbag once the curse has activated takes 1d4+1 full round actions, regardless of circumstance.
Creation
Magic Items: handy haversack, bag of holding, flatbox
That is, until he combined his love of dimensional mechanics with his love of storage space. He did not invent the Bag of Holding, but he was fond of saying he perfected it. He made a tidy sum selling the first of Heward's Handy Haversack, and even more teaching other enterprising enchanters how to make them. Finally satisfied with the impact he'd made on the world(and how orderly it was), he settled into semi-retirement.
That is, until he was visited by some of the members of Greyhawk's Circle of Eight. Mordenkainen, Tenser, and Bigby payed an unannounced visit to him, looking rather somber. As he invited them in(and activated Heward's Terrific Tea Pot Which Doesn't Ever Spill) he was told by the mages that something horrible had happened: Wizards of the Coast had decided to remove the mage's names. To compound the problem, there was a new game coming out called Pathfinder, which wasn't even set in Greyhawk at all.
"What will happen to my legacy, then?" He asked.
They told him it would simply be called the Handy Haversack. Bigby added that Drawmij took the news rather well, and that Heward still had all that gold. Still, the mage was incensed. He thanked them for their time, through clenched teeth and forced politeness. That night, he set about working on a new masterpiece. They will fear his passing, even if they did not remember him...
Heward's Harrowing Handbag
Aura: Strong Conjuration
CL: 15th
Slot: None
Weight: 5lbs
This item looks precisely like a Handy Haversack, and functions as such in simple tests. However, in combat or in a social situation that could cause even the slightest amount of emotional strife, the curse activates. Instead of whatever the user wishes to be on top of the Handbag, it instead produces a random embarrassing item, as appropriate. The item does not have to be one the victim actually owns, but it will produce owned items if it would be particularly embarrassing to do so. Otherwise, it can contain, but is not limited to the following.
1-5 A Giant Black Dildo (shape: 1-60 human, 61-90 animal, 91-100 mythical beast)
6-10 Underwear that looks suspiciously like it belongs to another party member
11-15 A ball gag
16-20 A fuzzy animal costume with head
21-25 Embarrassingly Graphic Pornography (opposite to victim's tastes or orientation, if possible)
26-30 An awful looking gaudy sweater made by the victim's mother
31-35 Incredibly cheesy poetry penned by the victim
36-40 Very badly taxidermied small animals
41-45 Gross looking half-eaten food
46-50 Remedial skill guide book, as appropriate for victim's class
51-55 "How to pick up women" guide(or men, whichever would be worse)
56-60 Role playing game materials
61-65 Portrait that looks like it could be victim's mother but she's very ugly
66-70 Feetie Pajamas sized for victim
71-75 Sketch of victim while young that makes them look very geeky and awkward
76-80 Very bad romance novel with embarrassing picture on cover
81-85 Prayer materials appropriate for a really stupid god(opposite to what victim would worship)
86-90 Ugly bright red papercraft heart that says "2 Week Anniversary! 2 Gether 4 Ever!" on it
91-95 Gimp Mask
96-100 Well used stuffed animal or security blanket
The handbag works normally for anyone except the owner of the bag, and a new owner is declared once someone has spent at least 24 hours wearing or carrying the bag. It goes without saying that most of the false items retrieved are worthless, but any attempts to sell the 'false' items retrieved will be met with severe derision, laughter, and the shopkeeper giving uncommonly poor prices unless the person purchasing the item makes a DC 30 will save. Retrieving the item you actually want out of the Handbag once the curse has activated takes 1d4+1 full round actions, regardless of circumstance.
Creation
Magic Items: handy haversack, bag of holding, flatbox
Monday, August 1, 2016
Social Skills
You saw that title, huh? Yeah. Don't worry, I'm scared too. I figure I'm not going to win many friends for this one, but with all the arguments I've had over social skills, I figure it's time to put all my opinions and advice out there. People can read it, agree or disagree, and yell at me accordingly. Today we're discussing the black sheep of the skill list, the social skills. In D20 it's Bluff, Diplomacy, and Intimidate. In Shadowrun, it's Negotiation and Etiquette. Deadlands adds Overawe, important for gun duels as much as it is for social situations. Whatever game you're talking about, the problems are universal. If you haven't already heard horror stories of people mistreating social skills, reddit or 1d4chan will have an overabundance of cringe horror stories for you. Just don't read too many, or else you'll lose a piece of yourself that you can't get back. I'm sure some of us have horror stories of our own too: These little skills make a giant impact on nearly every game, and it's all because people have really funny ideas of what they can do, all the way down to some people treating them as a mind control ray.
So before we get going I need to say two things. The first is that these skills almost always have some sort of mechanical worth to them, such as Overawe being necessary in a gun duel, Etiquette rolls being Shadowrun's primary method of gear acquisition, or bluff being used to feint. I am not talking about these uses. A "non-social" mechanical effect should not be argued in any way, even when used on a fellow player like bluff to feint or intimidate to cause the shaken effect. Basically, every skill is a small collection of things you can do, and social skills are unique in that some of these things are inarguable, and others are heavily open to interpretation.
There's something else you need to know. I've spent time trying to 'break down' the idea of the GM of a game being the Almighty Lord and Master of Games, and I'm sorry to say I've got to take another tiny whack at that mentality. It's obvious that there are things you're allowed to do that the players aren't: You can fudge rolls to avoid total disaster or keep someone having fun. You can alter the game world, you can insert unexpected challenges and control the flow of the game. However, there are things the player is allowed to do that you are not. It's weird to think about, but there are areas you shouldn't touch. The first is that the PC ought to have sovereignty over their own character: They should control how the character grows. They should control their levels and personality(even if you might have to point out how their actions affect their alignment...) and they should control their own destiny and decisions.
So that's our first piece of advice: Social skills are for a PC to roll to affect the mood of an NPC. I'm guessing you expected me to say 'period' but this rule does have a few twists. One of those is lying. Anyone should be able to lie to anyone else, and the GM has two general guidelines they can use to handle this: Either the subject asks for a Sense Motive check, or the liar does. Either way, you should make sure everyone knows about this beforehand. I prefer the subject asking for the roll, because it can open up for the GM to nudge in and ask for one if they think it's especially important. It also means a good liar can 'get away' with some real world skill at lying and not have to tip their hand and cause inadvertent metagaming. However, beyond lying, social skills are not for rolling against PCs. If you(either the GM or another player) want to convince a PC of something, you have to try and convince them. At no point should you try and throw dice at someone to get them to do what you want: That is something for the player to do to an NPC.
Why? Like I said, there's some things the GM isn't allowed to do, and one of those things is affect the player's decision process. Social skills are many things: they can speed up actions or add tension to a scene, but they are not a mind control ray. The players will, in the course of an average game, deal with many skill challenges: Traps, high walls, ancient writing in cryptic languages, and...belligerent NPCs. That is why they're 'allowed' to roll against your NPCs: A pissy, argumentative or angry NPC is a skill challenge in the same way that a deadly poison trap or a rope strung across a chasm is. However, it's one that you aren't always aware you're placing there, which makes it unique against the other common skill challenges. This makes it easy for people to get upset that the PC has a capability that they "don't". So, be more aware of when and where you're placing a skill challenge. Skill challenges are important, though, and not everyone is nice. That's why I'm not saying your NPCs have to all be nice: The world isn't like that. However, even if you think the world is wall to wall selfish assholes, you can't simply throw challenge after challenge at the PCs: the rolling and exasperation will absolutely slow your game to a crawl. Like I said in one of my first blogs, you've got to 'bottom-line' it and keep from hurting your own cause.
So, we also need to address when, exactly, you call for a social skill roll. Bluff style skills are the easiest: If you're lying, you've got to roll it. In this instance, remember to judge their believability, and give them a proper bonus for it: in D20, this is even a stock rule. Diplomacy and other 'convincing' skills are much hairier on when you should call for a roll because of their nature. I feel a good rule of thumb is that the more important a situation is, AND the longer the scene's gone on, the less likely it should be that you call for a roll. The reasoning is simple: not only does it suck to pour your heart into a scene for an hour and then flub the roll, but it's not very good for the GM either. I had a few GMs who'd call for a roll every time and while on the surface that's fine, in operation, what happens is that a failure is a disaster: The PCs are put back to square one and forced to either come up with a new plan(which can take HOURS depending on your group) or continue to throw dice at the NPC's face until one of them works. Either way, there's bound to be a lot of sitting around and wrecked pacing.
A special addendum to this is to never place a "gatekeeper" skill check unless it's something that can be retried or bypassed some other way. A "Gatekeeper" check is something that MUST BE DONE for the plot to move forward, and there is no other way. You should be sparing with these in general, but you're going to end up doing them a lot as a matter of course, like placing a locked door in between the PCs and something they need, or handing them a book that must be translated via decipher script. I mention this because social skill checks are the biggest source of unintended gatekeeper checks: It's natural to want to ask for a social skill check whenever there's an important social interaction. Simply ask yourself what the PCs are going to do if they fail, and if you can't think of anything immediately, reconsider placing a social skill challenge there. See social skills, in a way, like Climb, or Swim, or Disable Device: Not every interaction with something needs a check.
However, not asking for a check every time devalues the skill. I'm not even being sarcastic, it kind of does. The slick con-artist Bard and the paste-eating murder machine Barbarian being on even footing in important social scenes isa little bit really wrong. So, how do we avoid that? One way is to give players "slack" during the scene based on their total bonus, like extra time to think or hints. Another would be to roll for social information, like the "bard" is using their intuition. Finally, even with all of this aside, the social character has an unparalleled ability to speed up more minor interactions, open opportunities, and gather resources with their skills. Be sure to let them.
We have one last topic. I really, really try to keep this blog to general advice and not use it as a sounding board to bitch about particular people. That would be awful of me to put down exactly the habits of a particular person and then go "This is an awful way to act." without just talking to them privately. However, I ran into a particular bad habit that, while only a small number of people have it, it's bad enough that I want to talk about it. So, if you think I'm talking about you...sorry. It's really nothing personal.
There's a bad habit I've mentally dubbed Passfailing, and "intimidation" style skills can be particularly prone to this. Passfailing is a GM trying to turn a successful roll into a bad thing, usually through circumstances that would prove ridiculous if you really thought about them. Intimidate and its kind(like Overawe) are unusually prone to this because it's easy to think "higher roll means more scared" and "more scared" is rarely what someone rolling intimidate actually wants. Let me be very clear about this: You're just being an asshole. It's the GM's job to make the game challenging, but doing so by trying to remove a player's success or "punishing" them for a high bonus in something is ridiculous. There are a million ways to challenge the PCs, do not choose one that makes them feel like you're stepping on them or taking a success away. Even if they don't say anything, they're upset. I promise you.
Really, I think the take-away from this is that you should see a difficult person in the same light as a pit trap in a dungeon. Too few traps and it can feel monotonous, too many and the PCs feel overloaded with challenge and roadblocks. Social skills are not a mind control ray and shouldn't ever be used to bluntly make a PC do what you want them to do, whether you're another PC or the GM. Oh, and don't act like an asshole, or else you might find nobody wants to play your games.
So before we get going I need to say two things. The first is that these skills almost always have some sort of mechanical worth to them, such as Overawe being necessary in a gun duel, Etiquette rolls being Shadowrun's primary method of gear acquisition, or bluff being used to feint. I am not talking about these uses. A "non-social" mechanical effect should not be argued in any way, even when used on a fellow player like bluff to feint or intimidate to cause the shaken effect. Basically, every skill is a small collection of things you can do, and social skills are unique in that some of these things are inarguable, and others are heavily open to interpretation.
There's something else you need to know. I've spent time trying to 'break down' the idea of the GM of a game being the Almighty Lord and Master of Games, and I'm sorry to say I've got to take another tiny whack at that mentality. It's obvious that there are things you're allowed to do that the players aren't: You can fudge rolls to avoid total disaster or keep someone having fun. You can alter the game world, you can insert unexpected challenges and control the flow of the game. However, there are things the player is allowed to do that you are not. It's weird to think about, but there are areas you shouldn't touch. The first is that the PC ought to have sovereignty over their own character: They should control how the character grows. They should control their levels and personality(even if you might have to point out how their actions affect their alignment...) and they should control their own destiny and decisions.
So that's our first piece of advice: Social skills are for a PC to roll to affect the mood of an NPC. I'm guessing you expected me to say 'period' but this rule does have a few twists. One of those is lying. Anyone should be able to lie to anyone else, and the GM has two general guidelines they can use to handle this: Either the subject asks for a Sense Motive check, or the liar does. Either way, you should make sure everyone knows about this beforehand. I prefer the subject asking for the roll, because it can open up for the GM to nudge in and ask for one if they think it's especially important. It also means a good liar can 'get away' with some real world skill at lying and not have to tip their hand and cause inadvertent metagaming. However, beyond lying, social skills are not for rolling against PCs. If you(either the GM or another player) want to convince a PC of something, you have to try and convince them. At no point should you try and throw dice at someone to get them to do what you want: That is something for the player to do to an NPC.
Why? Like I said, there's some things the GM isn't allowed to do, and one of those things is affect the player's decision process. Social skills are many things: they can speed up actions or add tension to a scene, but they are not a mind control ray. The players will, in the course of an average game, deal with many skill challenges: Traps, high walls, ancient writing in cryptic languages, and...belligerent NPCs. That is why they're 'allowed' to roll against your NPCs: A pissy, argumentative or angry NPC is a skill challenge in the same way that a deadly poison trap or a rope strung across a chasm is. However, it's one that you aren't always aware you're placing there, which makes it unique against the other common skill challenges. This makes it easy for people to get upset that the PC has a capability that they "don't". So, be more aware of when and where you're placing a skill challenge. Skill challenges are important, though, and not everyone is nice. That's why I'm not saying your NPCs have to all be nice: The world isn't like that. However, even if you think the world is wall to wall selfish assholes, you can't simply throw challenge after challenge at the PCs: the rolling and exasperation will absolutely slow your game to a crawl. Like I said in one of my first blogs, you've got to 'bottom-line' it and keep from hurting your own cause.
So, we also need to address when, exactly, you call for a social skill roll. Bluff style skills are the easiest: If you're lying, you've got to roll it. In this instance, remember to judge their believability, and give them a proper bonus for it: in D20, this is even a stock rule. Diplomacy and other 'convincing' skills are much hairier on when you should call for a roll because of their nature. I feel a good rule of thumb is that the more important a situation is, AND the longer the scene's gone on, the less likely it should be that you call for a roll. The reasoning is simple: not only does it suck to pour your heart into a scene for an hour and then flub the roll, but it's not very good for the GM either. I had a few GMs who'd call for a roll every time and while on the surface that's fine, in operation, what happens is that a failure is a disaster: The PCs are put back to square one and forced to either come up with a new plan(which can take HOURS depending on your group) or continue to throw dice at the NPC's face until one of them works. Either way, there's bound to be a lot of sitting around and wrecked pacing.
A special addendum to this is to never place a "gatekeeper" skill check unless it's something that can be retried or bypassed some other way. A "Gatekeeper" check is something that MUST BE DONE for the plot to move forward, and there is no other way. You should be sparing with these in general, but you're going to end up doing them a lot as a matter of course, like placing a locked door in between the PCs and something they need, or handing them a book that must be translated via decipher script. I mention this because social skill checks are the biggest source of unintended gatekeeper checks: It's natural to want to ask for a social skill check whenever there's an important social interaction. Simply ask yourself what the PCs are going to do if they fail, and if you can't think of anything immediately, reconsider placing a social skill challenge there. See social skills, in a way, like Climb, or Swim, or Disable Device: Not every interaction with something needs a check.
However, not asking for a check every time devalues the skill. I'm not even being sarcastic, it kind of does. The slick con-artist Bard and the paste-eating murder machine Barbarian being on even footing in important social scenes is
We have one last topic. I really, really try to keep this blog to general advice and not use it as a sounding board to bitch about particular people. That would be awful of me to put down exactly the habits of a particular person and then go "This is an awful way to act." without just talking to them privately. However, I ran into a particular bad habit that, while only a small number of people have it, it's bad enough that I want to talk about it. So, if you think I'm talking about you...sorry. It's really nothing personal.
There's a bad habit I've mentally dubbed Passfailing, and "intimidation" style skills can be particularly prone to this. Passfailing is a GM trying to turn a successful roll into a bad thing, usually through circumstances that would prove ridiculous if you really thought about them. Intimidate and its kind(like Overawe) are unusually prone to this because it's easy to think "higher roll means more scared" and "more scared" is rarely what someone rolling intimidate actually wants. Let me be very clear about this: You're just being an asshole. It's the GM's job to make the game challenging, but doing so by trying to remove a player's success or "punishing" them for a high bonus in something is ridiculous. There are a million ways to challenge the PCs, do not choose one that makes them feel like you're stepping on them or taking a success away. Even if they don't say anything, they're upset. I promise you.
Really, I think the take-away from this is that you should see a difficult person in the same light as a pit trap in a dungeon. Too few traps and it can feel monotonous, too many and the PCs feel overloaded with challenge and roadblocks. Social skills are not a mind control ray and shouldn't ever be used to bluntly make a PC do what you want them to do, whether you're another PC or the GM. Oh, and don't act like an asshole, or else you might find nobody wants to play your games.
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