"Social Combat" - How I run social challenges

As I said in my very first (?) post on this blog, I'm into out-of-character challenges. The "you wouldn't make the fighter's player do push ups so you shouldn't make the wizard's player solve puzzles" argument is a false dichotomy that's so far up D&D's butt that WotC should press charges. 

Conversation is one of the things you do not need an in-game system to model because you are already talking. Having systems to handle jousting make sense because I don't have a suit of plate, a destrier, or a lance. I do have a mouth and the ability to suss out context. Finding a way to convince a powerful NPC to do what you want them to do is, essentially, what role-playing is about. It's puzzle solving in the same way that dungeon exploration is. 

I have put good faith effort to get into "social combat" subsystems. I played the crap out of Exalted and have dug into Burning Wheel's "Duel of Wits." Frankly, nothing with abstractions around conversation-as-combat has worked for me. It hasn't felt fun. Players would come up with amazing arguments only to have them fall flat with bad rolls. The exchange of arguments quickly became tedious and repetitive. 

Similarly, I remember once being frustrated at a particular ST's insistence that he "wasn't convinced by my arguments." I had 5s in all my social stats. Shouldn't that have counted for something? 

I put the following system together for my homebrew game His Majesty the Worm (which you see me talk about sometimes on this blog).

• It is more free form and less bounded by timing than combat. It does, however, provide structure that the GM can use to think about their NPCs. 
• It is designed to help the GM role-play more effectively and clearly. 
• It lets the GM telegraph an NPCs mood, needs, and interests. 
• Players use this information to solve the "puzzle" of a social encounter. 
• It does not ignore a character's charisma, but it doesn't make everything dependent on a single persuasion roll either. 
• Everybody has fun. 

I have been playtesting this for the past three years (!) and have found that it works really well. 

Bargaining and Disposition 

In the Underworld, you’ll encounter the bizarre denizens that live in dungeons and other adventurers trying their best to slay them (or you). A character’s attitude and their goals are referred to as their Disposition.  

All intelligent creatures can be negotiated with (assuming a shared language). Clearly roleplaying a character’s Disposition is one of the GM’s many jobs. The Disposition informs the GM how he how that creature should act, how hostile or friendly it is to the guild, and what the creature would demand in a parlay. 

Disposition is imagined using the Wheel of Disposition. There are seven basic Dispositions: anger, distaste, sadness, joy, surprise, trust, and fear. They each have three steps of severity: mild, basic, and intense. Mild emotions are in the inside of the circle; intense emotions at in the outside of the circle. Related emotions are grouped near each other.  

Players who offer or provide bargaining chips that appeal to the Disposition of the creatures should be allowed to test Wands (or other "Charisma" stat). Depending on the test’s results, the Disposition will either increase, decrease, or step to a related emotion.  

If this test is successful, the GM should slide the character’s Disposition up a category (e.g., from intense to basic, or from basic to mild). Great successes might step the Disposition to an adjacent petal and to a related and more-beneficial emotion (e.g., from anger to boredom). 

If this test fails, the GM will slide the character’s Disposition down a category as the player hero annoys or angers the creature with his paltry offerings. Great failures might cause a slide in Disposition level as well as a step to a more negative petal.  

If a character is afflicted with a severe negative Disposition (e.g., rage, terror, loathing), they’ll bring the conversation to an end. They no longer have any interest in exchanging goods or services with the guild. If the encounter continues at all, it will be in a combative capacity.  

GMs should consider the relative positions of the guild and the encountered character when applying favor or disfavor to this test. Major size differences or displays of strength or power will obviously influence how the creature feels about the guild’s ability to threaten or aid them.  

Sidebar: Put up or shut up 

Note that adventurers must offer or provide something substantive to GM characters to even qualify for a test of Wands. Nobody gives anything away for free. If the players want GM characters to scratch their back, they have to be willing to provide actual evidence that they’ll scratch back. 

You’ll also notice that the Disposition subsystem requires players to make judgments and decisions about the social situation before their stats are called upon. In this way, the social encounter relies on a mix of role-playing and the adventurer’s personal “charisma” (as represented by their Wands).  

[END SIDEBAR]  

Starting Disposition 

Usually, a creature’s starting Disposition will be obvious based on the scenario in which the guild encounters it. If there is a question, or if randomness is desired, the GM should look at the top card in the discard pile of the minor arcana: 

Draw from the Minor Arcana	Disposition
1-2	Anger
3-4	Distaste
5-6	Sadness
7-8	Joy
9-10	Surprise
Page-Knight	Trust
Queen-King	Fear

The Seven Dispositions 

The seven Disposition are listed below, with the core emotional state being flanked by its mild and severe states. A list of emotional synonyms are also given, as one of those terms might be more appropriate and might aid in the GM appropriately role-playing the Disposition. Some notes are given as to how a creature with that Disposition might act in a combat encounter.  

Acceptance / Trust / Admiration 

Trust is a measure of belief in the general honesty, fairness, or capability of the other party. A base level of trust is a common starting Disposition for many benevolent creatures. Creatures who accept or trust the guild will generally negotiate in good faith, but will still cautious ensure the exchanges are fair. Betraying the trust of a creature is a good way to change its Disposition to sad or angry.  

Synonyms: confident, hopeful, optimistic, playful, interested, inquisitive, curious 

In combat: Typically, creatures with this Disposition are not inclined to fight. If the situation obligates a fight without changing the trust Disposition, the creature might attempt to learn more about the guild’s prowess through non-lethal methods.   

Pensiveness / Sadness / Grief 

Sadness is emotional pain associated with loss, despair, helplessness, or disappointment. Sad creatures often have obvious needs to be alleviated, which might change their Disposition for the better. However, sadness often causes creatures to lose interest in activities they once enjoyed, and sadness can create a significant barrier to influence.  

Synonyms: anxious, empty, helpless, hopeless, depressed, irritable, guilty, lonely, abandoned 

In combat: In battle, those afflicted with deep sadness fight with abandon. They take chances they might otherwise not take. Often, they attempt to move first in initiative, recklessly charging into battle, but exposing themselves to danger.   

Boredom / Distaste / Loathing 

Disgust is a reaction to something offensive, distasteful, or unpleasant. This revulsion is often a product of breaking hygiene norms or moral codes. It is a common starting Disposition for potentially antagonistic creatures. Remember, it’s a dirty, dirty business being an adventurer.  

Synonyms: disapproving, repelled, judgmental, appalled, nauseated, horrified, hesitant 

In combat: Creatures full of loathing delight in violence against the targets of its distaste. The creature’s main desire is to cause harm or pain. This harm might be centered on a particular creature type (e.g., a witch-hunter pursuing a witch), or perhaps it’s more general (e.g., a vampire’s general disdain for all mortal life). 

Anxiety / Fear / Terror 

Fear is an emotional response to a perceived danger or threat. Fear is one half of the flight or fight response. Creatures responding with fear often want to just end the social encounter and might make any concessions necessary to accomplish this. Or, if they think they can do so successfully, frightened creatures will try and abandon the encounter altogether.  

Synonyms: weak, rejected, threatened, exposed, nervous, persecuted, inferior, worried, helpless 

In combat: A fearful creature will attempt to flee the source of its fear. These creatures will try and avoid combat, unless combat is necessary to escape. They prioritize high value cards for their Initiative.  

Annoyance / Anger / Rage 

Anger is an intense emotional response that arises from a perceived provocation, threat, or hurt. Displays of anger are very aggressive and intimidating, and might quickly devolve to violence. It is a common emotional response for creatures with bestial intelligence–or even certain maladjusted humans. Anger is one half of the fight or flight response. Anger can impair the creature’s ability to take in information or make wise decisions during the encounter.  

Synonyms: hurt, humiliated, threatened, hateful, violated, furious, provoked, hostile, ridiculed  

In combat: Anger makes people stupid and clumsy. The angry creature will try and focus on the source of their anger. An angry creature will attack recklessly, with little regard to the environment.  

Distraction / Surprise / Awe 

When there is a disconnect between expectations and reality, a creature reacts with surprise. Surprise might come when the guild interacts with more “normal” society of the City—not everyone is accustomed to the adventurer’s life. Surprise might also occur during confusing or bewildering encounters in the Underworld.  

Synonyms: startled, confused, amazed, shocked, dismayed, perplexed, excited 

In combat: A surprised creature wasn’t planning on fighting today. It will fight if it believes itself threatened, but won’t pursue combat for their own purposes. They will try and disengage as early as possible.   

Contentment / Joy / Ecstasy  

When their needs are met, creatures feel a sense of joy or happiness. Like anger, feelings of joy can cloud judgment. This is the ideal state for influencing a creature, as they are well-disposed to entreaties and exchanges.  

Synonyms: happy, peaceful, intimate, aroused, proud, thankful, powerful, respected 

In combat: Creatures who are joyful will not usually start or desire to engage in conflict. However, if the situation calls for it, joyful creatures might be cocky or overbold, perceiving the combat as a “game.” Cocky creatures might toy with, taunt, or tease the player heroes during combat.   

Likes and Dislikes, Wants and Needs 

Dispositions are transitory and change during the bargaining process. A GM character’s personality is defined by more permanent features: their likes and dislikes, and their wants and needs.  

Dislikes are gates around the castle of the character’s heart. 

Likes are the key.  

Wants are the queen of the castle.  

Needs are the king.  

• Dislikes trigger negative emotions like distaste or anger.  These triggers can be behaviors (“lying”) or traits (“all elves”). GM characters won’t bargain with adventurers that they dislike. 

• Likes trigger positive emotions like trust or joy.  These triggers can be behaviors (“sharing alcohol”) or traits (“good at music”).  GM characters will bargain fairly with adventurers that they like. 

• Wants fulfill the character’s wishes.  Wants are discrete. These can be items (“enough money for a dowry”) or events (“marry the widow Prescott”).  If you give a GM character what they want as a bargaining chip, make your Wands test with favor.  
• Needs represent the status quo.  Needs are abstract and essential (“as long as Baron von Nas is in power, my peasants will pay their taxes to me”).  If you threaten a GM character’s needs as a bargaining chip, make your Wands test with favor but their Disposition is hostile. They won’t bargain with you again.  

When designing a character, the GM must ensure that their personalities are evocative, strange, conflicting, and well-broadcast. This is true for all creatures, no matter how monstrous! An encounter with a wolfpack that howls and attacks to the death is lame. An encounter with a wolfpack that calls itself the Corpse Mothers (in their own lupine speech), respects the bonds of family, seeks vengeance against a werewolf that devoured a litter of their pups, and is afraid of medusae can be memorable and fun.  

LARPing Lessons Learned

Have you ever had a player at a table try and convince you whether something is "realistic"? I have. One of my good friends and an amazing role-player is (for good or ill) fairly opinionated about what his character should be able to do during a 6 second D&D turn. "If I'm an experienced adventurer, of course I'm able to [grab a potion/drink a potion/pour a potion down a friend's throat]." 

An SCA re-enactor once told me: "We're like practical archaeologists. We try out what medieval historians think was true and see if it's realistic." I felt the same way during the years that I LARPed, though I was investigating fantasy conventions and not actual history. 

This post details some of the lessons learned about fantasy conventions and how they stood up to field testing. 

Combat is an Exchange of Blows
Watch this video from the 1977 movie The Duelist. It is Ridley Scott's directorial debut and I think it captures what "actual" combat looks like. The essential gimmick of fighting is "If I get close enough to hit that guy, he's close enough to hit me. If he hits me, that will hurt me." 

D&D combat is a lot like Final Fantasy combat. One side goes then the other side goes. It's stunningly obvious, but the exchange of blows is simultaneous. You can't get a good stab on somebody because you are very preoccupied with not getting stabbed.

Also, during combat people move around a lot! I never quite grokked what Tweet was going for with opportunity attacks. It's pretty well documented that since disengaging is disincentivized, combatants in grid combat move next to each other and then full-round attack until one party's HP is down. In LARP combat, people close and retreat constantly. Dodging or evading is primarily done by putting distance between you and your opponent. 

Key Takeaways: Combat should simulate an exchange of blows. Into the Odd/Electric Bastionland does a good job of this by cutting to hit rolls. Every time you close with an opponent, your precious blood is being shed. I tried to simulate this in my Wilderland house rules by letting defenders get a few hits in if the attacker fails their attack roll. 


Weapon Length and Shields Matters A LOT
In D&D, most weapons feel more or less the same. Maybe your sword deals half damage to skeletons and maybe the great ax deals a d12 instead of a d8, but often the differences are cosmetic.

In my experience, the two biggest factors in combat are weapon length and the presence of a shield.

As I mentioned, "trying not to get hit" is the biggest factor in combat. If your opponent has a spear and you have a dagger, that job becomes infinitely harder. Likewise, if your target has 25% of their body covered with a shield, your job is also harder. One of the primary uses of a shield is to move your opponent's weapon out of the way so you can do the essential job of "hitting you and not getting hit." Shields are an indispensable part of combat.

Because we're not trying to actually hurt each other, LARPing really doesn't capture this well either. Your shields don't get sundered. You don't use your full strength to move an opponent's weapon aside. Even still, the essential premise is clear.

Key Takeaways: Weapon length and shields should absolutely be central mechanics. Burning Wheel has a subsystem about being "inside" or "outside" of a weapon's length that work well. Similarly, the oft-lauded "shields shall be splintered" rule makes shields an active part of combat instead of a factored-in-and-forgotten AC bonus.

Fighting Multiple People is God Damn Impossible
Fending off multiple attackers is impossible. If you have two opponents and two hands, your opponents have 100% more hands than you. You cannot effectively participate in the dance of "hurt them without being hurt." Your only choice is to run away. (Remember: Giving ground is the primary way you actively evade attacks.)

Unfortunately, this can be pretty lame in a role-playing game. Fantasy fiction is full of cool heroes wading through multiple foes.

Key Takeaways: If your goal is quote unquote "realism," fighting more than one opponent should carry a massive penalty. If fantasy fiction trumps fantasy reality, this penalty might be lighter than it would otherwise be. D&D handles this well with flanking bonuses and giving rogues sneak attack opportunities by ganging up on someone. 

Inventory Management is Hard
I just finished a weekend of backpack hiking. It was fun. My body is now a husk. 

I'm a faaaiiiirrrrly avid hiker. I want to use hedging language here because I know actual hardcore hikers and those people are insane. They cover distances and heights that are impossible for me. But I hike trails near me ~2 times a week. Backpack hiking is a whole different story. 

Weight is, uh, heavy. It impacts everything you do. It makes you awkward and top heavy. It makes you tired. 

Moreover, it is hard to deal with the fiddly bits of inventory management. When I wanted to give my dog water, I had to pull my pack off. I had to open the pack on the ground. I had to lift out my bedroll. I had to find his bowl. I had to unfold it. I had to find the water. I had to unscrew the lid. I had to pour the water into the bowl. He had to drink it. This did not take six seconds. 

Now imagine that you're doing this at the same time that somebody is trying to hit you. 

Key Takeaways: If you're ignoring encumbrance, you're ignoring a meaningful problem and a fun subsystem. LotFP's inventory system is so frequently borrowed because it works and is fun. Patrick Stuart's assertions about pack weight in Veins of the Earth is true. Assuming that turns are quick to resolve, it absolutely is a full round action (if not more) to retrieve something from your pack. It is absolutely a full round action to use an item e.g., drink a potion. 

If you are rummaging around in your pack, you should take a meaningful penalty to defense. If your hands are empty and searching for a precious potion, you're not participating in the shared threat of combat. 

Armor Penalties are Real
On the subject of encumbrance, armor penalties are real. Sometimes I see people trying to dispute this with Youtube videos called "The TRUTH of armor mobility," but whatever. 

Here are some facts about moving in metal armor:

1) You're clanking and clattering. One old school clone whose name I've forgotten from the 90s had something called "Rattle and Clank (RAC) Factor," and I think that rules. When you're even wearing a mail shirt, you're constantly making a "chnk chnk chnk" sound.
2) You're not doing acrobatics. Can you climb a ladder? Sure. Can you stand from prone? Sure. Can you Darksouls roll? No. 
3) You're getting tired and hot. If you're out on the field and the hot sun is shining on you, you have a real risk of overheating. Combatants who can give ground can outlast you without ever meaningfully exchanging blows. 
4) You cannot swim. If you fall into deep water, you're gonna drown. 

Key Takeaways: Armor penalties are meaningful. Having armor cost inventory slots ala Lamentations and applying a penalty to Acrobatics, Swim, Stealth, etc. makes a lot of sense. 

Combat is Psychological
LARP combat is supposed to be safe. Even so, psychology plays a huge roll. If a  dark elf assassin takes the field with glowing eyes in the dead of night, you take a few steps back. You don't want your beloved PC to die. You can get legitimately scared. (This "bleed" is why I like the genre, frankly.) 

When you're scared, you fight badly. When you're confident, you fight better. 

It's weird. I've seen competent fighters (in LARP terms) get overwhelmed by the "emotion" of the combat. I can only imagine how true this is when combat has actual stakes. 

Key Takeaways: Morale rules are important. Monsters and henchmen shouldn't fight themselves into an early grave: they should break, run, surrender. Similarly, saving throws vs. fear should meaningfully impact your combats. Feel free to throw them the first time a PC encounters a new type of monster. 

[Wilderlands] The Things Birds Know

This is a post in my Wilderlands setting series.

Skerples's recent post called out how helpful birds can be in folklore. In Die Nibelungen, a bird tattles about someone coming to kill Siegfried. That's pretty useful!

Here's an idea I just want to get down onto paper:

Like many beasts, birds can speak the common tongue. Birds carry rumors. Some birds are known liars, some are cheaters, some require gifts, some are honest, some are naive. But every bird knows something.

Players can spend a long turn bird watching. The GM will draw from the major arcana (or roll a d20, if use dice like a peasant). If he draws a bird that could feasibly be in the region you're travelling, you spot it. If you find a bird species you haven't found yet, they'll tell you a rumor.

Here are some birds that you might find, and the regions they frequent.

I. The woodcock (forest, fields) - Remarkably religious. Will be very moved by acts of virtue and extremely unfriendly to the impious.
II. The swan (steadings, shores, fields) - Swans love stories of knights and maidens, and think of themselves as bird royalty.
III. The starling (fields, barrows, mountains) - Starlings are incredible gossips. Their rumors are almost always about embarrassing things that happen to people.
IV. The loon (fens, shores) - A fussy perfectionist. Type A personality.
V. The heron (fens, shores) - Into astrology. Looks down into her pool at night to interpret the heavenly signs. Wants to know when you were born so she can make your birth chart.
VI. The crow (steadings, barrows, forest) - A consummate trickster and known liar. His feelings would be very hurt if someone ever called him either of these things.
VII. The kite (forest, mountains, fens) - A reserved gentleman, long retired from his campaigning days.
VIII. The buzzard (steadings, barrows, fens) - Suffers from terrible ennui.
IX. The eagle (shores, mountains, forest) - Proud. Children of the West Wind. Will be furious if you ask them to transport you around willy nilly. What do they look like, a horse?
X. The chicken (fields, forest, steading) - Silly and sweet.
XI. The sandpiper (fens, shores) - Knows the saddest song ever written. Forgets what it's about. Maybe it hasn't happened yet.
XII. The hoopoe (fields, forest, mountains) - Loves jokes. Wants to hear jokes. Wants to try out new material on you.
XIII. The auk (shores) - Thinks of themselves like warrior poets. Want to flyt with you.
IXX. The dove (fields, mountains, steading) - Naive to a fault. Will believe anything they are told.
XX. The owl (steading, forest, barrow) - Has a reputation of being "wise" to uphold. Terrified of embarrassing himself.
XXI. The ouzel (where indeed?) - The ouzel cock so black of hue with orange and tawny bill. See Silent Titans for details. 

Note: The regions here correspond to my reagents post.

GMs, make a corresponding 21 entry rumor table. Let your PCs go into the wilderness and find out the things birds know. 

So...What? 
If you're reading this and wondering why the hell I wrote this, I'll explain:

• By putting rumors in the wilderness, PCs can search for clues no matter where they are. This is great for hex crawls (which I tend to run). 
• Rumors will be easier to get in the early game and are less likely to occur as the players gain experience (and therefore information from other sources). This feels about right.
• By making "bird watching" a discrete action, PCs will track what birds they've seen and what birds they haven't. There's a Pokemon/Zelda-esque charm here that really appeals to me. 

Watches, or, the Meatgrinder

The following is how I deal with random encounters, spoor and signs, wandering monsters, and time tracking in my homebrew game. Please note that I use the major arcana deck (minus the Fool) as a randomizer. This gives me results of 1-21. If you're playing a D&D-like, just use a d20. You can safely ignore the "quest rumor" result.

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Travel in the Underworld is measured in “watches.” A watch isn't a concrete period of time—it can be an hour or ten minutes or all night. It’s hard to tell how much time is actually passing in the Underworld. Time moves weirdly—happy moments burn away quickly, whereas tense moments stretch like lengthening shadows. Watches are just a way to talk about how quickly, quietly, and carefully you're moving.

When a watch passes, the GM draws a card from the major arcana and compares the result against a watch table appropriate to that area.

A watch passes when:

·         The Guild passes into a new region on the map

·         The Guild spends an inordinate amount of time performing a task (e.g., digging a trench, smashing down a door, etc.)

If the region travelled into is a “special hex,” (i.e., a planned encounter) the guild will encounter the random watch event in the context of the special hex. For example, if the hex travelled into hosts a dragon’s lair and the GM randomly pulls a patrol of goblins, the goblins might be attempting to sneak into the dragon’s lair for treasure—and making entirely too much noise in the process. 

The Meatgrinder Table

Play happens by a combination of questions the GM asks the players and the decisions they make. It’s not a preplanned story.

The Meatgrinder represents the unpredictability of play. Every time the guild moves a hex, the GM should check on the Meatgrinder table to see what is currently happening to or around the guild. Every time the group enters into a new area, the GM draws on the meatgrinder table to find out what they encounter there. If there is a special hex, the GM interprets the result of the meatgrinder through that lens.

In general, meatgrinder tables follow this formula:

Torches gutter (I-V): When torches gutter, the players mark off one use of any active light source. Candles have two uses, torches have three, and lamps have four. Torches guttering represents time passing as your light sources grow dim.
Not every environment will be appropriate for this event. For example, the guild might be exploring a cave lit with glowing moss and mushrooms, or an underground castle lit with ghostly green torches.

Curiosities (VI-X): Curiosities are moments of serendipity. “Nothing happens” is a boring result for a random table. A curious occurrence is an opportunity for a GM to interject color into the lightless depths of the Underworld. Curiosities are probably not worthy of an entire scene of narration, so they might be seen as “nothing happens,” but they can also be inspiration for role-playing exchanges or provide hints about the local environment.

Travel events (XI-XV): Travel events are like curiosities but have more meaning or mechanical weight. Travel events are often things that go wrong during the journey. They might require an adventurer to make a hard choice about resource management or ask them to test one of their attributes to avoid a hardship. Travel events might prompt an Encounter.

Random encounters (XVI-XX): Random encounters are chance meetings with the denizens of the dungeon. These might be friendly encounters with would-be allies, encounters with hungry animals, or encounters with murderous monsters. Interesting random encounters don’t simply list “monster type.” The best random encounters paint a small scenario, which the GM can use as inspiration mid-game for an Encounter.

Quest rumor (XXI): Quest rumors lead the adventurers closer to the current quest they are pursuing. They hear whispers, see signs, and obliquely brush against their quest.
If they have already made significant progress on their current quest by actively seeking rumors in taverns and having a few near misses with their quarry, this might even be a random encounter that features the object of their quest. 

A meatgrinder table might look something like this:

I.                   Torches gutter

II.                Torches gutter

III.             Torches gutter

IV.              Torches gutter

V.                 Torches gutter

VI.              Curiosity: The guild startles up a [pack of albino rats/flock of luminescent cave butterflies]. They scurry away quickly.

VII.           Curiosity: The guild hears a wolf’s keening howl distantly.

VIII.        Curiosity: The first person in the marching order notices some graffiti chalked onto the cavern wall. It reads: “Ulf is no true orc. If he wishes to win my hand in marriage, he must defeat me in combat.” (The GM can accept Lore Bids on this curiosity as appropriate.)

IX.              Curiosity: The guild wanders by a shallow pool. The water looks clear, but the pool is full of toothy, blind fish.

X.                 Curiosity: The air is full of a heady floral scent. If the guild searches around a little, they’ll find a bunch of pale blue and purple lilies sprouting nearby. Appropriate Lore Bids will show that they are normal flowers with few (if any) meaningful alchemical properties, but they are quite lovely and might make a nice bouquet for someone.

XI.              Travel event: The last person in the marching order accidentally steps in some droppings. If they can’t find a way to get clean soon, they’ll become Stressed.
If the guild investigates, they realize that the droppings are [the fewmets of a dragon/the pellet of an owlbear]. It looks no more than a day old.

XII.           Travel event: The guild encounters a rushing river which has risen past its banks. It’s impossible to ford without getting soaked. The guild can either turn back and try and find an alternate route or attempt to cross. Swimming across the river requires a test of Swords. If successful, they make it across safely. If the test fails, they suffer a Wound from almost drowning. Whether successful or not successful, anybody who braved the cold waters becomes Stressed. If no precautions were taken, fragile items in backpacks (scrolls, provisions) are soaked and ruined.

XIII.        Travel event: While travelling, a random player hero discovers that their pack has a hole in it. The last listed item in their pack has fallen out and disappeared. (Backtracking and performing a thorough search will prompt additional watches to pass.)

XIV.         Travel event: The guild comes upon a field of faintly glowing green mushrooms sporadically sending up little clouds of dust. In the middle of the field is a corpse in rusted armor. A cracked chest lies near the corpse. (It’s all bad news. Mushrooms are poisonous. Corpse is a ghoul. Chest? Probably bad too. But there’s also gold in the chest and that’s good.)

XV.            Travel event: The guild’s path forward is blocked by thick layers of web. A path forward will be laborious and will prompt a random encounter draw. If the draw is XV-XXI, some giant spiders will show up. However, the guild can see several hanging sacks dangling from the cavern ceiling. Are these other adventurers who met a grim fate? Could they be rescued?

XVI.         Random Encounter: The guild happens upon a squat but cozy-looking tavern. A wooden sign depicts a red fish leaping from the water (a herring, if anybody bids lore). Inside is a tapped barrel of ale and a cauldron full of stew, but no innkeeper to be seen. In fact, the tavern is a giant mimic occupied by several smaller mimics. Sleeping in the mimic tavern is a notably bad idea.

XVII.      Random Encounter: A cockatrice has taken its chicks out to teach them how to hunt.

XVIII.   Random Encounter: An amorous ogre is trying impress a she-ogre with increasingly ridiculous feats of strength. They are both making a terrible racket.

XIX.        Random Encounter: A gang of three orc youths accompanied by a random number of goblins are on a quest to make a name for themselves before returning to their tribes. They might see the player’s guild as an appropriate challenge, or join with the guild against some greater foe.

XX.           Random Encounter: An owlbear has treed Gentle Simon of Heartsbane, a notoriously shrimpy sorcerer. All of Gentle Simon’s spells have been expended trying to rescue himself, and he’s now beginning to weep.

XXI.        Quest Rumor: The adventurers find a rival adventuring party crucified. They are still alive, though grievously injured and dehydrated. If the adventurers can provide aid, healing, and food, the rival party gasps about their recent encounter with the vampire Geralt Mourn, who the guild has sworn to slay. It was this dread vampire who crucified them as a warning to others. They have news of his current whereabouts, but would be loath to tangle with him again.

When a watch event is triggered, the GM should mark it off. If the cards are shuffled and the GM draws the same event twice, nothing happens and the guild has a bit of respite. Meatgrinder tables are repopulated by the GM after the Guild returns to the City.

Wandering Monster Checks

Every time the Guild makes a very loud noise or otherwise draws attention to themselves, the GM draws on the Meatgrinder table for a random encounter. If the card drawn indicates a random encounter, the indicated creature will be drawn to investigate the guild’s noise. 

Light Checks and Moving Carefully

If the Guild is proceeding slowly or methodically, tapping in front of them with their ten-foot pole, the GM should pull on the Meatgrinder table after resolving the potential encounter. If the second draw is "torches gutter," the GM keeps the result, to represent additional time passing. If the second draw is 6 or higher, ignore it.

You Are Likely To Be Eaten by a Grue: Running out of Light in Dungeon Crawl

From Darkest Dungeon

DIY & Dragons recently had a post wherein they said, quote:

"I have also literally never heard of a game session where the characters actually ended up trapped in the dark, truly unable to see anything for the rest of their delve. There's probably a reason for that....So the problem with torches is, I would rather rule by fiat that all the characters just die than be forced to play out a session where I have to describe the characters feeling their way along the wall and groping blindly through pitch blackness because no one has a light source. I would rather end the session right there, send my friends home, and never run a game of D&D again rather than risk having that happen more than once."

That was somewhat eye opening to me. In the games that I run, light sources are really important. In the last few sessions, the players decided to haul back to the surface because they were running low on light. But if they had actually run out of torches in the Underworld, I wouldn't have known how to handle it. It would be tedious ad nauseum to narrate an experience without light. 

Therefore, I whipped up this little table. If a guild runs out of all light sources in a dark dungeon—not a torch or a lamp to their name—each player must draw to see if they become lost in the dark. Your chances of seeing the surface world again are slim. 

It’s pitch dark. Can you find your way back to the surface? d12

I-V: You are eaten by a grue. 

VI: You are lost in the Underworld. The GM places you as an encounter on the Meatgrinder table. You may re-enter play if you are encountered. 

VII: You make it back to the surface, but only after making solemn oaths to forsake the adventuring life. You retire and become a City persona. 

VIII: You are captured by monsters. The GM will choose an appropriate monster in the area based on their Meatgrinder table. Escaping guild members know your general location and the type of monster. 

IX: You are held for ransom by the bird-faced Okku Gang. It takes 1,000 gold per reputation level of the guild to buy your freedom. 

X: You scramble back to the surface all but naked and shivering. You lose all of your equipment, both from your belt and backpack. 

XI: You limp back to the surface, shaken to your core. You gain a Scar from a conflict with a random monster. You have a 50% chance to have lost each item carried, tested individually. 

XII: You limp back to the surface, mostly unscathed but raving about the twelve different flavors of darkness.