Tuesday, December 13, 2022

Why Are Adventure Modules So Bad?

I've never had a great experience running published adventure modules. From "The Keep on the Borderlands" back when I was a wee lad of a Dungeon Master to "The Pit of Kutallu" one shot I ran over a month ago, I've always run into problems with the things. What's the source of these problems? Is there a better way? Is this just a middle aged man yelling at a cloud? How does this influence my own adventure writing?

Yeah, I'm criticizing a classic. I could run in this thing in my sleep. And I probably have. It's a solid D&D adventure, but it's questionable as an introductory module. Gygax didn't name anybody, forcing people running their first game to make names for NPCs up on the spot. Gygax described the details of politics within the Caves of Chaos without also providing ways for the player characters to find out or act on that information. Both of these things could have been teachable moments for those new to the hobby.

The Problems of Prose and Narrative

Modules are generally written as if they are telling a story rather than documenting a process. Someone reading prose fiction like a novel doesn't usually have to go back and look up key details. (There are exceptions like "fair play" mysteries and certain experimental works, but these meet different expectations.) Editors prefer to avoid walls of text in prose fiction because they can turn off readers. On the other hand, a gamemaster has to quickly understand how a module is intended to work and reference information from that module while running it. Skimming blocks of narration looking for a needed detail buried in the middle of a long paragraph takes up valuable time at the table. Having the information available at a glance would be more efficient, but involves a presentation and layout that borrows from technical writing.


Why Buy Adventure Modules?

I'm aware of two basic markets for adventure modules. The first are gamemasters who outsource creating the scenario, mechanics, and other aspects of an evening's adventure to a publisher. The reasons for this decision often comes down to a lack of time or familiarity with a given game or system. In order to be used to meet this need, using an adventure module should be less work than making one from scratch. Ideally, it should be as modular as the name "module" suggests - an adventure that can be slotted into an ongoing campaign with minimal preparation or adjustment. The second market are those who purchase modules as reading material. Presenting a module's contents as a narrative isn't a problem for them - it's actually a positive feature. They want to be told a story. The technical aspects of gamemastering don't concern them. Unfortunately, this runs counter to the needs of those using modules as adventures.


Background - How Much Is Too Much?

One sticking point for me is extensive background information with little or no application to the adventure. It may develop the setting and be a pleasant read, but is it needed to run the module? The motivations of an NPC and their relationships to the other NPCs in an adventure don't really matter if that NPC only serves as an XP piƱata during a combat encounter. The depths of that NPC will never come up in play and become known to the players. The gamemaster doesn't need that information to run the NPC in a fight. It's space that could be better used for things more directly related to running the adventure.

Our group had a great time with this one, as I mention here. One question, though: What happens if nobody starts drowning when the player characters go overboard? The module mentions keeping things "action-packed and quick-moving" while calling for multiple tests while swimming for shore, but doesn't actually tell the gamemaster how many tests are needed or how often to call for them. One? Five? Every round? How many rounds until they get to the shore? The module doesn't say, but the process of how to handle a player character that starts drowning after failing a test while swimming for shore is described in detail.

Old School Solutions

When I ran adventure modules more often, I would thoroughly research each one before showing up with it on game night. This involved going through the contents, making notes as needed, and often running the adventure from my notes rather than the module itself. A simple read through just wouldn't provide enough familiarity with the module for a smooth experience at the table.

A notable change I would make while adapting a module is boiling down long descriptions. This seems to be where some module writers feel free to indulge in maximum verbosity. The eyes of many of my players would glaze over during a long reading of boxed text. I typically cut such descriptions down to the most important elements or used a highlighter on key phrases to use while paraphrasing at the table.

That process didn't cover the time needed to customize the module to fit into our campaign. Many modules recommend that gamemasters do this. Some provide specific advice on where and when the adventure might take place in officially supported settings. This fine tuning takes relatively little time and is an understandable limitation of adventure modules. A publisher can't take the specifics of everybody's campaign setting into account.

I soon gave up on the process as a waste of time. It was essentially rewriting the module into a form that would be easier for me to use. Why bother? Writing an adventure from scratch took roughly the same amount of time and effort. I acquired modules as part of bundles and picked up Free RPG Day adventures since then, but rarely ran them. Most of the modules I own are sources of spare parts. Encounters, NPCs, plot elements, and anything else that caught my eye would be used to inspire things in my own adventures.


The Arcane Library

The adventure modules written by Kelsey Dionne and published by The Arcane Library show a possible way forward. Many of the improvements used in these modules appear in products by others. However, The Arcane Library modules incorporates more of them in one place than I've seen elsewhere. The Arcane Library modules are dungeon adventures for a certain prominent fantasy RPG and use a streamlined presentation well suited for a location based adventure.
  • Each module begins with a synopsis of the adventure and the minimum background necessary to understand its context. This information gives gamemasters a roadmap they can use to navigate the contents of the module. It shows how the adventure is intended to go, which elements connect, where they connect, and what interactions might take place. Of course, things may go off the rails, but knowing where the tracks were headed is helpful.
  • The opening encounter is designed to quickly involve the players and their characters. A selection of motivations for the player characters is provided. This avoids the issues of slow starts and may short circuit "why does my character care" conversations.
  • Each encounter takes up exactly one page and starts by asking a dramatic question. The outcome of the encounter answers that question. Not all encounters pose a question, but it provides a direction for things to go when it appears. The encounter wraps up with a transition describing how things move towards the next encounter. The flow from question to answer to transition helps to maintain the pace of the adventure.
  • The aftermath section provides ways to tie off any remaining plot threads and offers the player characters their rewards. Hooks for future adventures building on the just concluded one are also presented.
  • Descriptions are short. Lengthy boxed text is avoided in favor of lists of key details that gamemasters can work into their own narration.
  • The layout is used to make the important stuff easier to find.
  • There's a table of contents.
  • Bold text is used for key details, making them stand out from the rest of the text.
  • Bullet points are used for descriptive details and other information best presented in list format.
  • Things like maps and new monsters are placed in the appendices instead of cluttering up the encounter entries.
Kelsey Dionne's approach requires modification for use with other games. It is optimized for an adventure in a confined environment that limits player choice. The outline of an investigative adventure might need a flowchart rather than a synopsis to show the gamemaster where things are going. A political intrigue adventure may not be able to be divided neatly into distinct encounters. The factions involved will each advance their own plans and modify them based on events. Instead, each faction could get their own section describing their resources, motivations, and how they intend to use any opportunities to achieve their goals.


The Problem of Scale

The Arcane Library modules are an example of how things can be improved, but their short length means that they don't run into the organizational problems found in longer works. A module from The Arcane Library already has a table of contents. This is plenty for an adventure intended to be run in a single session. But as the page count of a book goes up, locating specific information becomes more difficult.

Both a table of contents and a comprehensive index would make navigating a longer module easier. I'm not sure where the cut off between "just a table of contents is fine" and "needs an index too" exists. However, I'm sure that an adventure hardcover with a page count in the triple digits would certainly need both.

This is one of my favorite AD&D modules - to read. There's so much drama and detail presented about the people and inner workings of the slavers' organization.  Unfortunately, the player characters will never experience any of it as they steamroller through the place. I've thought of making the player characters go in and have to put up with the backbiting and office politics while undercover, but I don't think that's the intended way of running this adventure.

Art in Adventure Modules

Artwork may seem to be a waste of space in an adventure module, but it can have useful functions.
  • An illustration of an area or encounter can be a handy tool, especially if it can be shown to the players without also revealing the text detailing the encounter. Some classic D&D and AD&D modules have separate booklets for this purpose.
  • A piece of art that is connected to the text can serve as a mental bookmark. The most common example is a description of an NPC or monster with an illustration of that NPC or monster on the same page. If gamemasters can find the picture, they can find the related description.
  • Memorable art can serve as landmarks while navigating a book. Page numbers might be difficult to recall, but knowing that a particular section is near that eye-catching picture may not be.
  • If nothing else, small pieces of artwork can break up walls of text and larger ones can signal the beginning or end of a section.

Writing My Own Adventures

I tended to over-prepare for adventures. The process of rewriting modules had left a mark. There was way too much unnecessary detail and not enough focus on what I needed while sitting at the table. Everything was in one cumbersome outline and I worried too much about the ending.

There's a new process that I'm still refining. I don't worry about planning every detail or beyond the current session. What I'm mainly interested in is having ready access to the information I have prepared.

What I include in my session notes is still a work in progress.
  • A sequence of events that will get derailed due to player character intervention. Key details are in bold.
  • Scene descriptions (details below). Descriptive details are lists of phrases that I work in extemporaneously.
  • Key NPCs. Only the ones that the player characters are likely to fight, interact with socially, or otherwise engage with mechanically have full stats. These include any special rules or notes. Again, key details are in bold. Other entries are just so that I can remember the name of the shopkeeper or other minor NPC.
  • Reference sheets for any rules that I might have trouble remembering the exact mechanics of at the table.
As the workhorse of many an adventure, scenes need their share of focus. I haven't gone as far as put each on its own page, but I'm seeing the appeal. I break scenes down into three basic parts.
  • How things are at the start of the scene. Example: The guy they are looking for is here.
  • What might happen during the scene. Example: Do they confront the guy? Follow him around while keeping out of sight? What are the complications involved with either approach? Let's assume that they fumble their approach and they end up chasing the guy. Where does he go? Does local law enforcement get involved?
  • Handling the outcome, including what the next scene might be and how to get there from here. Example: Do they catch the guy? Does he get away? Let's assume that they get their man. What information do they get out of him? How could they make use of what they've learned?
Each category (sequence of events, NPCs, scenes, etc.) gets its own document file. Right now, the docs are .pdfs on my tablet, but I'm considering uploading them to Google Docs or transferring them to Google Keep so I can access everything on my phone. That allows me to work on them while away from my tablet or PC.

I also have a pad and pen in front of me when running the game. I've yet to find a more practical way of taking notes at the table. Most of the notes are on how the players are changing the narrative during play or about things the players have taken an interest in. These notes get transcribed a day or week later. In theory.

One of the adventures in this book involves catching up with an out of control spaceship. The process of intercepting it is a dice rolling contest. When I ran it a few years ago, I couldn't find the number I needed on a page full of text. Maybe it was the lateness of the hour combined with the mental load of running the game and fatigue from a rough week at work, but I kept scanning the page and not seeing what I was looking for. Simply printing the target number in bold or having the information in a more easily digestible format - a chart summarizing the skill checks needed to get through the scene, for example - would have helped my poor, tired brain find it.

Wrapping Up

There are great adventure modules in my collection and there are some duds I hang on to for various reasons. Even the best of them have certain flaws that make them harder to run at the table. Possible solutions involve different lay outs and ways to present key information without radically altering what an adventure module is supposed to do. As an added benefit, gamemasters can borrow these methods to improve their own adventure writing.

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