Comparing 4 TTRPGs on the Ides of March

This is not a serious post. Yes, I am making light of the assassination of Gaius Julius Caesar, Dictator for life of the late Roman Republic. Anybody trying to convince me that over two millennia is too soon is going to be in for a rough time.

Anybody in the mood for salad?

Let's observe the Ides of March by examining four TTRPGs from my collection on the basis of:

• Does the game support stabbing as an in-game activity? What quality of stabbing can player characters achieve?
• Is assassination supported as an in-game activity?
• How savage are the politics in the setting? Are they brutal enough that assassination is seen as a viable and even legitimate political tool? What role does stabbing play in such assassinations?

The four TTRPGs I've selected have been previously featured on this blog. In no particular order:

• Old School Essentials Advanced Fantasy
• Mothership 1e
• Robert E Howard's Conan Adventures in an Age Undreamed Of
• Star Trek Adventures 1e

Stabbiness

OSE Advanced Fantasy
This should be a fabulous opportunity for player characters to indulge in real quality stabbing. However, stabbing is but one option available among many here. And those other options are often more efficient.

Mothership
Although guns are favored, player characters have options for knives and other stabbing weapons. The vibechete has great potential here, but does seem to be more of a slicing weapon. On the other hand, the player characters may not be the ones getting in the majority of the stabbing. Many of the things that lurk in the long dark have claws and pointy tails that put them ahead in the business of stabbing.

Robert E Howard's Conan
The genre is called swords and sorcery, but could just as easily be swords versus sorcery. With swords in the name, there's plenty of opportunity for stabbing. And the game offers a variety of options with all kinds of bladed weapons. It even supports viable archer builds for stabbing at range. Which is ideal for player characters who don't want to walk all the way over there to stab somebody.

Star Trek Adventures
Stabbing isn't really a strong focus of Starfleet. Although Andorians preserve it as part of their cultural heritage. Klingons, on the other hand, make sure to get in some stabbing on a daily basis. They stab their enemies, their still-living food, and each other. It gets even better during the Dominion War, when the Jem'Hadar show up with their bayonets and knives. A close quarters fight between Klingons and Jem'Hadar could quickly devolve into nothing but a stabbing match.


Assassinations

OSE Advanced Fantasy
The game literally has the Assassin class available. And the Thief can also work as a perfectly competent stealth killer. Even more so in some cases, since the OSE version of the Assassin lacks the ability to deal with locks, traps, and other security measures.

Mothership
Corporations and the greed they inspire are the real baddies in space horror. Quietly eliminating a corporate executive at the direction of a rival or to send a message are possible scenarios. Most higher ranking corporate officers with an ounce of sense will likely have security measures in place. There may also be complicating factors like something going wrong with their latest corporate-backed pet projects at the same time as the attempt. Nothing like cloned alien critters breaking out of containment to spice up an otherwise straightforward scenario.

Robert E Howard's Conan
It could be argued that a warrior like Conan would prefer to prove himself on the field of battle. Of course, Conan was never particularly scrupulous about how he made his money. And Conan was the target of assassination attempts when he became too much of a pain for somebody in power. There should be plenty of opportunity in the setting for those seeking employment as assassins or avoiding those employed as assassins.

Star Trek Adventures
Starfleet doesn't condone assassinations. Except for those dodgy Section 31 types. And Sisko that one time. And those times when Worf takes an interest in Klingon politics. On the other hand, polities other than the Federation have even less restraint. Klingons are perfectly content to send warriors with blades to strike their foes from the shadows, although using poison is a no-no. Romulans and Cardassians are happy to rid themselves of troublesome folks using a variety of means, including hired assassins. Solving the mystery of just who killed somebody with a long list of enemies could be a fun exercise in the Star Trek setting.

How about ordering pizza?

Ruthless Politics

OSE Advanced Fantasy
There doesn't seem to be an official setting for OSE, but adopting settings from other F20 games seems simple enough. Most published F20 settings are politically stable. Upheavals typically come around the time of edition changes rather than arising organically within the setting. However, internal conflicts that don't threaten the established order are another matter. A noble title could be made available with the removal of the current holder. In fact, this is routine business in the more chaotic and/or evil parts of F20 settings, such as the Underdark.

Mothership
Although the corporations themselves are too big to fail, individual corporate officers and their pet projects come and go. Sometimes right out the airlock. Corporate politics can get literally cutthroat when little things like laws, ethics, and morals stop getting in the way.

Robert E Howard's Conan
Politics is a lively affair in this setting. Backstabbing and betrayal seem to be the norm rather than the exception in the original stories. Conan himself involved himself in local politics on occasion - commanding armies, involving himself with royalty (sometimes intimately), participating in (usually doomed) rebellions, and often enriching himself at some potentate's expense. And there was the whole business of him leading a mercenary army to claim the throne of Aquilonia. Of course, keeping that throne took significant effort from those who sought it for themselves. Politics in this setting is a good way for a player character to end up with a fat purse and a knife in the back.

Star Trek Adventures
Politics within the Federation seems to be a sedate affair outside of the occasional coup or conspiracy. And, in theory, the Prime Directive should keep Starfleet personnel out of political business outside of the Federation. In practice, Starfleet crews get dragged into some local skullduggery on the regular. The usual scenario is some dark secret concealed down on the planet of the week. Intervening in local politics is more defensible when the locals run their civilization on human sacrifice or something. Of course, they may not welcome the proposed changes.


That concludes my tongue-in-cheek observance of this year's Ides of March. Maybe I'll make this a regular thing. Let's see if I remember next year.

6 Lessons I Learned from the 2025 Character Creation Challenge

I took on the 2025 Character Creation Challenge back in January. The biggest clue can be found in the thirty-odd blog posts I made about it. One of those was a wrap up post. Now that I've had more time to process, I realized that I had more notes. Here's what I'm carrying forward from the experience.

The 2025 Character Creation Challenge completion image.

Tackling a month long project? Have a plan. And be prepared to change that plan.

A plan is an expression of strategy. It moves you closer to a goal. It is not a process - that comes later. Any plan is better than starting off with no idea of how things are going to get done. Modifying an existing plan is less fraught than coming up with a way to move towards a goal in mid-stream.

I started the challenge with a list of games and a schedule covering the first couple of weeks. That simple plan didn't survive for long. It was never intended to. I had no experience with this challenge when it kicked off. Any detailed plan was going to be bad and wrong. I went with a simple plan that I could easily modify as I learned more about what I was doing. Games were added and dropped from the list. The schedule changed constantly depending on how much time and effort I had available. Circumstances changed and my plans changed with them.


Don't be afraid to use the best ideas early on.

There is the temptation to save ideas for an ideal time. Bury that temptation out back. There's no need to save ideas. Execute them now. New ideas will come with painful experience.

I was afraid that I was going to run out of ideas halfway through the challenge. And my well of ideas did run low around that time. However, inspiration struck. Many of my best ideas didn't even occur to me until well after the challenge began.


It's okay to use okay ideas.

There is also the temptation to rule out lackluster ideas. That temptation leads to either not starting or falling behind. Again, gave that temptation the fate it deserves. Wanting to put your best foot forward is understandable, but pushing out something less than amazing is generally better than nothing.

I'll admit that not every character and post represented my best possible effort. That wasn't the goal. The challenge was to create thirty one characters and post them online. I would've preferred to produce more polished work, but not at the cost of falling behind on the challenge.


Defy convention.

Don't get stuck inside the box. It's confining and the cats that are already inside won't appreciate it. Go ahead and use the weird ideas that might not work for everybody. It makes things more interesting.

There are multiple examples of my not coloring inside the lines during the challenge. Going back to the "ship as a character" concept more than once. Generating characters for solo TTRPGs. Creating NPCs that I may use in my home campaign. Reincarnating a necromancer in one game after another. Starfleet officers with some darkness adding contrast to their backgrounds. All of these made my contributions to the challenge uniquely mine.


Processes will develop. There might be pain involved.

Just as my planning had to change to meet the needs of the challenge, I had to develop processes for how to carry out those plans. The distinction between process and plan can be illustrated with a comparison. A checklist is not a plan. It is a process that instructs the user on what to do, not how (plan) or why (strategy).

My approaches to creating characters, writing posts, and getting everything online where folks could see it were all evolving processes. Those processes were all streamlined over a month of me banging my head up against this challenge. Repetition led to a Darwinian process. What worked was kept and what didn't was ruthlessly weeded out.


Falling behind is no reason to quit.

The idea of quitting can be a tempting one. It is the path of least resistance. And it looks awfully relaxing. Remember what to do with temptations? It involves a shovel.

I ran out of gas about two-thirds of the way through January. I was running out of games and ideas. There was grit getting into the gears of the processes. Things weren't flowing anymore. It was getting harder to crank things out. And the buffer I had built up ran out.

Getting back to the mental state where I could "just" do the things I needed to do was the hard part. It came down to a couple of things. I wanted to finish more than I wanted to regret quitting. And I had to ease up, stop beating myself up, and find a way to enjoy the challenge. I decided to treat it like a game. One of those video games where grinding away makes the eventual outcome more rewarding.

After that, it was "just" a matter of getting back on that horse.

Paying Rent with Eels? - A Weird Form of Money

"Adventurers! Your quest is to collect what the peasants owe to their lord!"

"Taxes?"

"Rent."

"Silver?"

"Eels."

"What."

"Y'all wouldn't shut up about historical accuracy."


One way to make a setting distinct is by introducing weird forms of money. The eels thing came up while I was researching something completely different. I haven't found a use for it yet. But now I'm inflicting it on y'all.

A stick of smoked eels. From Surprised Eel Historian (@greenleejw) on X/Twitter.

Medieval English paid rent to their lords with smoked eels. The eels were counted in sticks (25 eels). Sticks were based on the number of eels that could be skewered and smoked at one time. Ten sticks of eels were called a bind. There were significant logistical issues with producing, storing, and transporting binds and sticks of eels from renters to lords. Such payments were increasingly replaced by coins starting in the 13th century, but the practice continued into the 17th.

The main online source I've found is at Historia Cartarum. Details presented there include where in England eels were used for rent, how far eel rents traveled, and the value of a stick of eels. There's more information on the history of eels as currency than y'all can shake a stick at.

I also found a document on smoked eels as a medieval commodity on dropbox.

Players may take issue with their characters collecting rent payments in the form of smoked eels. Some might object to being rent collectors for medieval landlords. Others may not be thrilled with transporting smoked eels by the bind. Solutions range from leading an uprising to promoting the use of coinage, depending on the campaign.

Suspension of Disbelief

There was a moment when suspension of disbelief failed for our group while running through D&D module B4 The Lost City. The party reached the level below the undead infested tombs and found some ogres milling around in a storage room. The players questioned how the ogres - as living creatures - came from and how they survived in a ziggurat in the middle of a desert.

It was a reasonable question.

"I don't know. I didn't write the module." I replied.

Maybe throwing Tom Moldvay under the bus wasn't the most gracious move, but he should have provided an answer in the module if he didn't want to catch the blame. D&D adventure design when B4 The Lost City came out was centered around the dungeon as a series of entertaining challenges for the players. Notions of how these spaces might exist as plausible environments within the game setting weren't a consideration.

Yet.

The pendulum swung the other way later. Games emphasized the unchallenged assumptions of their designers. The word "realism" got waved around like a banner. Things that made the artificial nature of games and their settings caught unkind criticisms.

But the truth of it is: Game mechanics are always as obvious as the books and dice sitting on the table. And fictional settings only hold up to so much scrutiny.

That said...

There really should be a reason why ogres are hanging around a storage room in a ziggurat in the middle of desert.

Fantasy Foods - Tacos Exist in the Forgotten Realms, Learn to Deal With It

This is an opinion piece. I have opinions. This should not come as a surprise.

I believe this is a cropped depiction of the spell "Hero's Feast" for the 2024 version of D&D 5e. I'm not sure because I couldn't care less about that game.

Last week, divorced dude @osgamer74 saw the image above and lost his damn mind. Unable to contain his boundless outrage, he took to X/Twitter and made it everybody else's problem.

This is not a cool, measured response.

Getting this worked up about a halfling eating a taco and sushi existing in a TTRPG fantasy setting is just sad. @osgamer74 wasn't alone in his sad outburst. He also wasn't alone in getting roasted on X/Twitter for it.

In the Bearded Halfling's defense, he wasn't the one who came out swinging.

I have mixed feelings about social media in general and X/Twitter specifically. Still, the post by @osgamer74 is like putting chum in the water. Somebody is gonna smell blood and show up looking to sink their teeth into something fishy. He could have been less emotional and typed out something like: "I don't feel that tacos and sushi fit the vibe in my game, but others are welcome to do whatever they want at their tables." Unfortunately, @osgamer74 posted what he posted and the result was something called engagement.

Many of first wave of responses pointed out that there were many foods and other items pictured along with the "nonsense" that @osgamer74 choose to rant about. Here's a partial list since I'm sure I missed something:

• A pumpkin
• Potatoes
• Peppers
• Tomatoes
• A tea pot
• Samosas
• A paper cocktail umbrella in a drinking glass

The pattern here is that none of these fit into a TTRPG campaign themed around medieval Europe. Most of the foods are native to the Americas. Tea was first recorded as existing in China. And the samosa originated from the Middle East and India. I don't know when paper cocktail umbrellas came into being, but I'm pretty sure they are a modern invention. So - the counterargument went - why single out tacos and sushi given all the things foreign to medieval Europe in the image?

Well...

Open mouth, insert foot.

@osgamer74 makes it clear that historical accuracy wasn't his issue. It's the presence of food that's not "normal" to him. Never mind that a hard shelled taco is about as gringo as a food can get. And that sushi is available in American supermarkets these days.

Having clarified his views, @osgamer74 employed tactics that never fail when one finds their mouth full of their own foot. Personal attacks. Doubling down. And playing the victim. Arguments that make it obvious who has the stronger position.

Playing the victim.

Note that he's gone from the food in question being not "normal" to what "you'd see in the local mall" and I'm sure it'll keep changing to whatever @osgamer74 thinks he needs to win. It also will be everybody else's fault for not understanding his poorly articulated position. And I'm certain that whatever engagement that @osgamer74 was looking for on X/Twitter was not what he ended up receiving.

This is not the first time that anachronisms and other out of place elements have appeared in Dungeons and Dragons. Weapons, armor, and gear from a vast geographic area and ranging from the Bronze Age to the Renaissance have been part of the game for decades. The Monk class was introduced in the 1975 Blackmoor supplement when somebody wanted to emulate martial arts action. More crossing genres date back to 1976, when Expedition to the Barrier Peaks was first played at Origins II. (It was published in 1980 as part of the "S" series of adventure modules.) And people complained back then as well. It's just that it used to be confined to the letters in Dragon Magazine's "Out on a Limb" feature, fanzines, and grumblings in the local hobby store. Frankly, it was narrow minded then and its no better now that it's amplified by social media and the internet.

On the other hand, social media and the internet can spread new ideas, even about established settings. No less than Ed Greenwood used Twitter to answer questions and offer up new lore about the Forgotten Realms. Back in 2020, he responded to an inquiry about the existence of tacos in the setting he created.

Here is a link to Ed Greenwood's post on X/Twitter.

For those unable to access X/Twitter or can't see the thread in its entirety because Elon Musk broke the thing he bought, the whole thing is archived here.

Finally, here is a copy/paste of the thread:

From @LeslieCourtne14:

Dear Ed, are there tacos in Faerun, or something like them at least? If so, where would someone find them and what culture would they be in? Asking for my taco loving players.

Reply from @TheEdVerse, edited for this format:

“Taco” is not a name known on Toril, but fried hardcrust roundbreads (what some real-worlders might call pitas, but fried crispy-hard) that have been stuffed with a hot cooked mix of minced-meat, spices, vegetables (diced and fried onions and/or potatoes, and/or Brussels sprouts, and/or asparagus, and/or leeks, and/or artichoke hearts, and/or radishes, and/or mushrooms) and sauces ARE known and devoured eagerly in many eateries, especially in the Vilhon, the lands south of there to the Shaar and beyond (so, places like Innarlith and south to include Luiren and Var the Golden), and are slowly spreading along the trade routes in all directions, to Chessenta and eastern Tethyr and Amn, to Calimshan and the Lake of Steam cities, and to Scornubel. You can even order them in some inns and taverns (yes, they’re becoming “the new thing” in tavern fare) in Secomber.

The meat tends to be whatever’s plentiful and cheap locally, from lamb to rabbit and all manner of small scurrying things, from “tree-cats” [squirrels] to rats, and the flavor profile varies from merely savory to hot-spiced; most establishments will ask “hot” or “warming” (= fiery or mild) when you order.

So, a folded-over, exposed-spilling-edge taco is a rare thing indeed, and cheese-drenched tacos are a special variant version anywhere they can be had, but the same sort of ingredients in essentially the same combination (so, a flat, closed taco, which varies from a “handpie” in that it was never full of gravy, and its outer pastry is thin and fried crispy-hard) can now be had in many places.

What it’s called varies from place to place; along the Sword Coast it tends to be called a “fryhard,” in the Vilhon, a “crunchtart,” in the South, a “hotbite,” and along the trade-routes, any of these three or even something else.

Elminster and the Seven all like “handfry pies” made with six or seven sorts of mushrooms, parsnips, leeks or spring onions (all diced), and strong cheeses (no meat).

The shell of a Torilian taco, whatever it’s called, is often rather like cornbread in its composition. Or a crisp naan (and is sometimes made by “gluing” two round-tortilla-like discs together with cheese).

- Ed Greenwood, November 13 2020

So what we have here is something not called a taco, but is totally a taco. And it exists in a published Dungeons and Dragons setting. Of course, all we have is Ed Greenwood's word for it, but that's good enough for me.

I've found these matters are ultimately a matter of taste. Take pizza toppings, for example. I enjoy certain ingredients and I don't enjoy others. There is a temptation to label disliked toppings as "bad" or "nonsense" or worse. And to take offense when others push back against those terms. Rather than escalate, it's best to use such misunderstandings as an opportunity for growth. Learn what others like and why they like those things. Even if it's not to my taste, there's no reason to waste time and energy fighting about it. If I'm sharing a pizza, I'm happy to order the toppings everybody can agree on. It might turn out to be a cheese pizza, but that tastes better than a bitter fight and a spoiled time with friends. If we're all ordering for ourselves, they can do whatever they want with their pizzas and I can get a proper pizza with the correct toppings.

And now I'm craving pizza, tacos, sushi, samosas, and a drink with a cocktail umbrella in it. Not all in one sitting, though. But certainly all in one setting.

Remodeling B4 The Lost City

In a previous post, I went over the preparations I made for running D&D module B4 The Lost City in Old School Essentials. In this post, I'm detailing the changes I made to the module during those preparations. My motivations behind those changes varied. Some things about The Lost City as written wouldn't land well with our group. Other don't fit with how I like to run things. Still others needed alteration to better suit the Nostalgia Tour campaign concept I was planning. So I had some work to do.

The Layout

Before getting into the meat of this topic, I'll provide some basic information about The Lost City. This is necessary to provide context for the changes I made. This information will spoil the module for anybody who has not played through it yet.

The dungeon in The Lost City is within a step-pyramid (although it could be called a ziggurat) at the center of a ruined city partly buried in the sands of the surrounding desert. The module presents each chunk of the dungeon in tiers. Tiers 1 and 2 are considered dungeon level 1. Tiers 3 and 4 are dungeon level 2. Tier 5 is dungeon level 3. Tiers 6 - 10 are optional areas that take the adventure beyond Basic D&D and serves as sort of an ad for Expert D&D. The optional areas are mapped, but only superficially presented. Work or skilled improvisation is needed to run them at the table. The Lost City's iconic monster - Zargon - is the last encounter of Tier 10, in room #100. Finally, an underground city in a vast cavern below the pyramid is presented with an isometric map and basic information covering critical areas.

The most significant change I made was opting not to run Tiers 6 - 10. As part of the Nostalgia Tour, The Lost City serves to kick things off and get the player characters to third level. Then the campaign could move to another classic D&D module like X1 The Isle of Dread or X2 Castle Amber. Tiers 1 - 5 would accomplish this nicely. The Lost City, as written, suggests collapsing the only set of stairs connecting Tier 5 to Tier 6 as a way of supporting this choice.


"Borrowing" Ideas

I'm not too proud to "borrow" other people's ideas, so I went looking for some. The Lost City is decades old. There are plenty of essays, blog posts, and YouTube videos out there about the module. Many of them describe the experiences of other gamemasters - how they ran it, the issues they had, and the solutions they implemented.

The B4 The Lost City Sourcebook

This is a collection of essays about the module. Much of it is from a real world perspective or expands the adventure's fictional background. The main value for me were the suggestions throughout for refining the adventure.

It was while reading through "Notes on the Underground City" by Jason Cone that I realized what was bothering me about Tier 5 of the dungeon. Tier 5 features a supernatural possession, Wererats, Doppelgangers, and mind controlling Werefoxes. That's three different kinds of shapechangers waiting in ambush and two examples of taking control of characters away from their players on the same dungeon level. I realize that OSR is supposed to be more challenging on players, but I also didn't want to go full Dark Souls on them. The possession stayed since it is linked to another encounter. The Werefoxes and Doppelgangers were changed to Wererats to tie things together more to my taste.

Dungeon Craft Ultimate D&D Adventures: The Lost City (Ep. #346)

Seeing how another gamemaster runs an adventure is always insightful. Even if the only insight is that different styles are different. This video's emphasis on OSR play was a needed reminder for me. The party's focus must be on finding food and water at the beginning of the adventure - they are lost in the desert and have been out of supplies for awhile. The players also have to keep in mind that encounters aren't balanced, most XP is earned from treasure recovered, and player characters start with hit points in the single digits.

I also "borrowed" the idea of setting up Zargon like a boss monster to wrap up the adventure. Zargon packed up his slime pool and relocated from room #100 to his temple in the underground city. The climax was an assault by every faction against Zargon's worshipers and their hobgoblin allies. The party's role was to kill off Zargon while his cult was dealt with off-screen.


Small Changes

A minor tweak I made was increasing the amount of support available in the dungeon. There is no town nearby as a place of rest and resupply. Allying with one of the three human factions in the dungeon provides a source of food, water, and rest. However, there is no equivalent of a shop for equipment. I ruled that any of the factions could provide standard adventuring gear at standard prices once friendly relations were established.

The final change was the result of a random encounter. The wandering encounter table for Tiers 1 - 2 features a group of gnomes exploring the dungeon. I expanded the encounter by providing the gnome leader with a name - Wigglewort. I also explained the presence of the gnomes to the party with a short speech by Wigglewort:

"We were sent out from our town on a simple mission: explore the underworld. To seek out new markets and trade partners. To boldly go where no gnome has gone before!"

Wigglewort and his gnomes stuck around for the rest of the adventure. They made contact with the three human factions and provided gear to the party at reasonable prices. In the aftermath of the adventure, they are setting up trade agreements with the underground city now that the cult of Zargon and the hobgoblins are no longer around.


Looking Back

I had a variety of reasons for the changes I made to The Lost City. The major one - cutting out Tiers 6 - 10 - was to fit the adventure into the campaign I'm running. Others - such as not having multiple similarly themed encounters on the same dungeon level - were a matter of taste. Still others - making sure that there was the equivalent of a "town" for the party and creating a "boss" fight as the climax - reflect a more modern approach to adventure design.

The Summer Trip - Don't Leave Gaming Behind!

Got back from visiting family. Took photos of rocket butts. Here's how I didn't leave gaming behind. At least, not entirely.

Dat @$$. Saturn V display at the Apollo center of Kennedy Space Center.

Reading

We all have stuff we've been meaning to read, but just haven't had the time.

Guess what?

Bring something to read. It doesn't matter if you're taking a plane, car, or train - you're going to end up spending hours sitting with reading or looking out the window as your options.

Game books are the obvious choice. I brought a couple and - while I didn't finish either book - I did make progress in them both. Be careful in your selection. Digest sized is easier to pack than a big hardcover. And don't take anything you'd miss or can't replace. No first runs of long out of print classics from defunct companies. Luggage gets lost. Things disappear.

The two game systems I brought were FATE Core System and the Mothership boxed set. Reading the FATE rules is a first step towards running a future campaign using Tachyon Squadron. Bringing the Mothership boxed set was a mistake. It's a little too big to comfortably fit in my messenger bag and it split my reading time between them. Bringing FATE Core System and leaving Mothership at home would have allowed me to concentrate on and finish the one book.

I did finish the couple of non-fiction books I brought along. I count both of these towards gaming because much of my non-fiction reading ends up being research for upcoming campaigns. Books with a smaller footprint are better and bring nothing you can't easily replace.

The Checklist Manifesto by Atul Gawande is a niche title about using checklists as an organizational tool. Checklists aren't the best choice in all scenarios, but they do serve to make sure that no steps are overlooked while executing a process. Recommended, but not for everybody.

The Middle Ages: A Graphic History by Eleanor Janega and Neil Max Emmanuel covers a period that too many folks assume they know everything about. It's an excellent overview for somebody new to the topic. In my case, it helped me see how everything fits together as well as giving me new insights into the period. Some folks might find parts of it too "woke" for their tastes, but those folks are wrong. Strongly recommended.

Something else to consider is a cheap paperback novel. A quick, light read might be welcome between more challenging material. I ended up not doing this, but it's an option I'm keeping in mind for next time.


What NOT To Pack

Accept that you'll be away from your gaming collection. Don't try to stuff your entire collection into your luggage. It's just a bad idea. Process that and move on. And plan accordingly.

My wife packed our copy of Bohnanza in case the family got restless, but we ended up not playing it. Carefully consider these kinds of options. Only bring a board or card game if you know you'll end up playing it. Otherwise, it will just be dead weight in your luggage.

I was tempted to bring a miniature, a small wet palette, a couple of brushes, and a few paints. It all didn't make the cut due to space limitations. It's just as well, there wasn't enough light in the place we were staying. My advice is to only consider this if you're really into miniature painting and know that you'll have the time and a suitable location to paint.

The forbidden boop. Nose of the orbiter Atlantis at the Kennedy Space Center.

What To Do?

Visit a gaming related location in the area. This normally means a game store. However, a little research may yield a big surprise. I found out that the Warsenal shop is located a short distance from where we were staying. It was short visit, but buying some MDF terrain straight from the source was a novel experience.

Watch a movie. There were a couple of times when I found myself with time to kill and access to a TV. I used the time to for a couple of old favorites: I suspected that my testosterone levels were low and hoped to absorb some through osmosis by watching Predator (1987) again. I also sought inspiration for eventually running Mothership in Alien (1979).

The rest of the time? We had obligations, but enough free time to take the kids to see some of the sights. Otherwise, touch grass. Or sand. Or try to boop the nose of a space shuttle orbiter (it was out of reach). Or lick a rock from the Moon (also out of reach).

They call these things get aways for a reason. Relax for a bit.

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 piñata 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.

The Holiday Season, the Death of Campaigns, and Finding Alternatives

I was expecting a stronger reaction when I announced to the group that I would not be starting any RPG campaigns until next year. Instead, I got sage nods and knowing looks. November and December is a hard time for long-term games here in the United States. The demands of family during Thanksgiving and Christmas, the shopping season, the disruption of the New Year, not to mention things like religious observances, all work to make a mockery of scheduling. New campaigns die stillborn as GMs cannot find the time to sit down and work out their ideas. Established campaigns wither away as attention wonders and interest declines. Even non-RPG gamers have a rough time. It's tough to convince people to join in your multi-week wargaming campaign when the Day of the Turkey is just around the corner.

But the holidays don't have to be a hiatus from gaming. There are ways around the issue. A willingness to work with less and accept certain limitations can go a long way.

Time is the biggest limiting factor. Not only will there be fewer gaming sessions, but those sessions may tend to be shorter. 4+ hour games of any sort might take too long to finish. All day gaming is probably right out for most of us. Shoot for something lighter and faster. Write a quick one-shot RPG adventure with per-generated characters. Seven Wonders is one example of a board game that doesn't take long to play. Work out a small scale miniatures scenario with strictly limited numbers and objectives. Not every game has to be an epic tale. Aim for something short, sharp, and satisfying enough to last until January.

Outside of actual playtime, there is plenty to be done with the little bits of time that can be found here and there. There might be game books waiting on the shelves for a good perusing. Those miniatures won't assemble and paint themselves. That oft-delayed terrain project might be a good distraction from the pressures of the holidays. And it might be a good time to plan those campaigns that will get started early next year. Down time is a good time for things that tend to get pushed back otherwise.

If nothing else, there's always looking forward to the gaming goodies from understanding relatives. Or, failing that, planning on how to get the most bang out of the gift certificates and cash from relations who don't quite get the gaming hobby.

And if that doesn't work out. Well, there's always next year.