M o s t o f t h
e p e o p l e w h o p l a y
t h e A D & D ®
g a m e s t a r t
t h e i r p l a y i n g c a r e e r s
i n d u n geons. At first, these underground comp l e x e s
a r e s o m u c h f u n
t h a t t h e g a m i n g
g r o u p m a k e s
t h e m t h e c e n t e r o f
p l a y . T h e
r e s t o f t
h e g a m e w o r l d e x i s t s
o n l y a s a p l a c e
t o g e t s u
p p l i e s f o r d u n g e o n e e r i n g
o r a s a
r e f u g e w h e n
t h i n g s g e t t o o h o t
t o h a n d l e
u n d e r g r o u n d . S
o o n e r o r l a t e r , h o w e v
e r , a
s a d t r u t h
b e c o m e s o b v i o u s : d u n g e o n s
a r e
g e t t i n g b o r i n g
. I f t h e p l a y e r s
h a v e a n y s k i l l
a t a l l , t
h e y ` v e l e a r n e d h o w t o
c l e a n o u t t h e
a v e r a g e d u n g e o
n q u i c k l y a n d e f f i c i e
n t l y .
T h e y m i g h t
k n o w t h e w e a k s p o t s
o f t h e
s t a n d a r d m o n s t
e r s s o w e l l t h a t
t h e y g r e e t
t h e a p p e a r a n c e
o f y e t a n o t h e r d r a g o n
w i t h
y a w n s .
A t t h i s p o
i n t , t h e D M h a s
2 c h o i c e s .
H e c a n d e
s p e r a t e l y i n v e n t m o r e
( a n d m o r e
e x o t i c ) m o n s t e
r s , d r e a m u p m o r e
f i e n d i s h
t r a p s , a n d
p i l e u p t h e t r e a s u r e
i n a n a t t e m p t
t o k e e p Th
e G a m e i n t e r e s t i n g .
U n f o r t u n a t e l y ,
a l l o f t h
e s e t h i n g s a r e o n l y
v a r i a t i o n s o n t h e
f a m i l i a r t h e m e
. T h e b e t t e r c h o i c e
i s t o g e t
u p o n t h e
s u r f a c e o f t h e g a m e
w o r l d a n d
s t a r t a f
u l l - f l e d g e d c a m p a i g n . A
g o o d c a m p a i g n w o r l d o
f f e r s a v a s t v a r i e t y
o f g e n u i n e l y n e w s i t u
a t i o n s t o e x p l o r e , r a
n g i n g
f r o m u n u s u a l
t y p e s o f t e r r a i n t o
i n t r i c a t e
p o l i t i c a l s e t -
u p s . H e r e t h e D M
i s a c r e a t i v e
f o r c e , n o t
j u s t a b o o k k e e p e r f o r
m i n d l e s s
monsters.
A s a n y e x p
e r i e n c e d D M k n o w s , h o
w e v e r ,
p l a y i n g b e y o n d
t h e d u n g e o n a l s o i n v o
l v e s
s o m e r e a l
p r o b l e m s , o n e s w h i c h
n o v i c e
DMs can find utterly bewildering. The
whole dungeon set-up is really as stylized
as
the game board for chess
or backgammon.
Leaving it behind means playing a new
and
different game. Consider a scenario, for
example, where the goal of the PCs is
to find a magic item lost in a forest
that contains a number of hostile monsters
and other dangers. On the surface, this
scenario has much in common with a dungeon
adventure, but it immediately raises
some different questions. How fast can
the
party move in a forest? How far ahead
can
they see? Where are the monsters? lairs
since there aren?t any convenient rooms?
And just how does the party map a forest,
anyway?
The official rules give few answers to
these and similar questions. In the AD&D
Dungeon Masters Guide there?s a
curious
?gray area.? Dungeon
play, of course, is
discussed in great detail. Likewise, there
are
excellent rules for long-distance travel.
What?s missing is the middle ground, where
the actual turn-by-turn adventure takes
place in a non-dungeon setting, like the
forest in our example above.
This article is an attempt to fill in part
of
that gray area by offering practical advice
about running and creating non-dungeon
adventures. Since some readers of
DRAGON Magazine
get confused about
the status of material presented here,
let me
state now that this article has no claim
whatsoever to be considered ?official
rules.?
In fact, experienced DMs may find some
of
these suggestions rather unorthodox. All
of
them are based on personal experience,
and
are offered only in the hope that other
DMs
will find them useful, or at least thought-provoking.
Some of the material is slanted particularly
for the beginning DM, who all too
often is left to flounder alone with the
rule
books. It?s sometimes hard for experienced
gamers to realize that certain ?obvious?
principles and techniques are deep mysteries
to the absolute novice. Certain sections of the article, therefore, are
labeled for
beginners, and more experienced players
can skip over them if they prefer.
When it comes to running a non-dungeon
scenario, one of the first problems the
DM
encounters lies with the movement rates
for
player characters and monsters. The basic
rates given in the AD&D
rules seem to
assume that the persons moving have decent
level footing and are able to take each
step freely. A moment?s thought shows
that
in non-dungeon settings, such assumptions
might well be invalid. Consider, for example,
a character climbing a steep hill or one
fighting while waist-deep in water. Their
movement rates should differ from those
of
characters walking down city streets or
engaging in normal combat.
Let?s break down the AD&D
movement
rules in order to examine them more closely,
S i n c e t h e
o u t d o o r t r a v e l r a t e s
a r e b a s e d o n
t u r n s o f
o n e f u l l d a y , w e
w i l l l e a v e t h e m
a s i d e . B a s i c a l
l y , w e f i n d t h r e e
r a t e s g i v e n :
*********************1*****************
S i n c e t h e
o u t d o o r t r a v e l r a t e s
a r e b a s e d o n
t u r n s o f
o n e f u l l d a y , w e
w i l l l e a v e t h e m
a s i d e . B a s i c a l
l y , w e f i n d t h r e e
r a t e s g i v e n :
1 ) very slow, for dungeon
mapping, where
each ?inch? of movement rate corresponds
to one foot of actual movement during
one
minute?s time;
*********************2*****************
2) medium, for following a
known route in a dungeon (1" movement
rate = 5? actual distance); and
*********************3*****************
3) fast, for
fleeing in a dungeon, walking through
a
city, or engaging in combat (1") movement
rate = 10? actual distance). Thus, if
a
character with a movement rate of 12"
is
mapping a dungeon, he will cover only
12?
in one minute, but he will cover 120?
a
minute on a street.
Although these rates cover movement in
dungeons quite well, they are inadequate
for the myriad of situations that can
occur
aboveground. There are times when the
DM can make a correlation between the
dungeon situation that the rules cover
and
some new outside situation. For instance,
a
character creeping slowly and cautiously
through a forest might be considered to
be
in an analogous situation to one mapping
a
dungeon. Unfortunately, other situations
defy such analogies, such as a character
running full tilt downhill.
In unusual circumstances, the DM has to
make up a new movement rate appropriate
to the conditions in which the moving
will
be done. The easiest starting point is
the
fast rate given above, because
everyone is
familiar with strolling down a city street.
The DM can extrapolate from this known
pace, deciding what factors would make
characters move either faster or slower
than
they would on a street. These penalties
or
bonuses can be subtracted or added in
increments of 10? a minute, using the
total
move per minute (that is, 120? for a 12"
character) as a base.
The three main factors to consider are
the
steepness of the terrain, the amount of
available light, and the presence of obstacles.
Moving uphill slows movement, while
moving down increases it. Likewise, groping
along in the dark is always slower work
than strolling in broad daylight.
Obstacles are things like boulders, trees,
or crowds of people which require characters
to pick their way through or dodge around them. In a forest, for instance,
part
of the characters? actual movement on
any
given turn will be sideways, not straight
ahead, as they twist and turn around the
trees. Thus, the total distance covered
in a
turn will be less than that covered in
one
turn on open ground. Another kind of
obstacle is poor footing. Soft sand, mud,
or
slippery surfaces will also slow a character
down.
All of these reductions to the movement
rate are cumulative. For example, consider
an unencumbered character with a movement
rate of 12?, giving him a basic stroll
rate of 120? a minute. Now, suppose this
character is climbing a steep, boulderstrewn
hill in the dark. The DM decides
that the pitch of the slope takes 30?
off his
move, the darkness another 50?, and working
his way through the rocks another 30?,
for a total move of only 10? a minute.
Although this rate might seem slow, consider
what it?s simulating: a man half-crawling
through unseen obstacles, pausing often
to
catch his breath and grope around him,
and
every now and then simply running into
an
impassable obstacle that forces him to
backtrack.
By using this method, the DM will find
that in certain circumstances the movement
rate is reduced to zero or below, meaning
that in these circumstances the terrain
is
impassable. If the character in our example
were so encumbered that his rate was already
reduced to 9? (90? a minute base
rate), the DM?s reductions of 110? would
leave him with a minus number. The player
of this character would then have to make
the interesting choice of leaving some
of his
gear behind or waiting to make the climb
in
the daylight, when the reductions for
the
slope and the obstacles would subtract
only
60? from his base rate, allowing him to
stagger uphill at the rate of 30? a minute.
Situations will arise in play where the
players argue that their characters can
move
faster through obstacles than the DM is
willing to allow. For a change, these
player
squabbles can give the DM a bit of fun.
The DM should point out that the determined
rate is the safe rate and give the
players the option of going faster ? at
their
own risk. To return to our second example
above, suppose the encumbered character
insists on climbing the hillside in the
dark.
The DM should allow him to try, but also
should set a high percentage chance that
he
will fall. Each fall does damage, of course,
as the character rolls and smashes into
one
of the boulders.
A well-rounded campaign
world
offers a variety of new
situations to
explore. Get up on the
surface of
the game world and adventure
outdoors. The above scenes
which
depict desert ruins,
mountains,
forests, and snow-covered
lands
can be idea starters.
In some circumstances, however, the
DM?s ruling on movement will have to be
final. If a character is so encumbered,
for
example, that his movement rate is already
reduced to 3?, there is simply no way
that
this character will be able to climb a
rope
ladder up a cliff or move in any other
equally difficult situation. In this example,
if the character insisted on trying the
climb,
the DM could say something like: ?Your
arms simply won?t pull you up past the
first
rung,? and leave it at that.
Although most outdoor situations are so
complex that the DM will have to determine
movement rates on the spot, the following table offers some suggestions
for
standard reductions and bonuses.
Movement factors
| Situation | +/- feet per minute |
| Gentle slope or stairs down/up | +/-10 |
| Steep slope or stairs down/up | +/- 30 |
| Ladder, down or up | -30 |
| Mountain-style rock climbing, down or up | -60 |
| Light underbrush or tall grass | -10 |
| Thick forest | -30 |
| Chaparral or jungle | -60 |
| Swamp or bog | -60 |
| Water-slick footing | -40 |
| Ice | -60 |
| Mud or soft sand | -30 |
| Pavement or wood floor | +20 |
| Wading through shallow water | -20 |
| Wading through deep water or snow | -60 |
| Obscure light | -20 |
| Total darkness | -50 |
| Working way through a crowd | -60 |
| Picking way along narrow ledge | -60 |
Running offers its own problem outdoors,
too, because the rate for fleeing in dungeons assumes the presence of many
obstacles, such as doors, furniture, twisting
corridors, and the like. In contrast,
a run
across open terrain will be much faster.
The following system is easy and works
well in play to determine how fast characters
can run.
The DM first determines the
walking pace for the specific conditions,
then multiplies it by four for the first
minute of the run, three for the next ten minutes, and finally two for
the rest of the run,
if indeed it continues that far. This
system
represents that first burst of real speed,
not
sustainable over long distances (except
by
experienced long-distance runners) that
occurs when someone takes off at a run.
Movement (for
the novice DM)
One of the real advantages of the
dungeon -- from the DM?s point of view -- is
the way that stone walls and corridors
channel movement, forcing both the PCs and
the monsters to follow certain invariable
routes. Thus, the DM has an easy time
of
keeping track of everyone?s location and
of
deciding the travel routes for the monsters
and NPCs under the DM?s control.
Once the action shifts aboveground,
characters can move in any direction at
varying rates of speed. The PC party has
a
large number of choices about how to approach
a given obstacle, and the countering
movements of the monsters will depend
on
those choices. What?s more, out in open
country both PCs and monsters may have
to split up their parties for any number
of
reasons. The novice DM can easily get
so
confused that he loses control of both
his
monsters and his players ? I?ve seen it
happen to several young DMs.
Here are three pieces of advice for beginners
faced with a group of monsters and
strong-willed PCs who insist on running
all
over the map.
First, plan ahead. Although the movement
of the monsters is dependent in a large
degree on the action of the PC party,
the
new DM should take the time to work out
some probable courses of action for the
monsters when the PC party confronts
them. If the monsters are guarding something,
for instance, the DM should decide
which monsters will make a stand, which
may try to circle around behind the PC
party, and which will run for help. A
few
notes on such possibilities will save
a lot of
playing time.
Second, use figures or some other kind
of
marker. Markers are the only way to keep
track of dispersed groups of characters
without endless squabbling over who is
or
was where. These markers, however, need
not be expensive figures. A DM who lacks
a
large backlog of figures can make a perfectly
playable mass of enemies by cutting cardboard
into ½? squares. Each square should
have an arrow, pointing to the middle
of
one side, to indicate in which direction
the
figure is facing, and a number, which
corresponds to a set of statistics in the DM?s
notes.
Finally, keep control of the players. In
a
dungeon, if the players all babble at
once
that their PCs are moving forward, the
DM
can understand them well enough, but out
on a hillside, say, with everyone on a
different part of the battle board, the confusion
can be infuriating. The novice DM should
strictly enforce the rule that the players
move their characters one at a time in
the
order in which the players are seated
at the
table.
How long is a non-dungeon
turn?
Breaking down the movement rate into
single minutes allows us to address another
important question about non-dungeon
adventures: just how long is the turn?
In the
AD&D
rules, there are three units of time:
the 1-minute combat round, the 10-minute
dungeon turn, and the day-long travel
turn.
Although there?s no need to change the
travel and combat turns, the basic ?move
and explore? dungeon turn needs modification
when adventurers are up on the
surface.
The length of the 10-minute turn is really
centered around the convention of mapping.
Automatically it allows enough time
per move for the PC party to have mapped
without having to play through every detail
of the process. No one plays by saying:
?Now I?m dipping my pen in the ink and
unrolling the map, while the fighter is
pacing off the length of the room. . . .? Any PC
actions called to the DM are assumed to
be
taking place after the room is mapped.
Once outside the dungeon, however, the
mapping process changes drastically (as
we?ll see later), to the point where the
PCs
may not even be mapping at all. In such
cases, more actions can be undertaken
in
ten minutes than the DM can judge all
at
once. For instance, in a familiar city,
a PC
c o u l d w a l k
a b l o c k , t u r n i n t o
a t a v e r n , m e e t
a f r i e n d
a n d o r d e r a l e , t h e n
i n s u l t a s t r a n g e r
a n d s t a r t
a f i g h t ? a l l i n
t e n m i n u t e s .
I n m y e x p e
r i e n c e , a t u r n o f
f i v e m i n u t e s
w o r k s b e t t e r
i n s i t u a t i o n s w h e r e n
o m a p p i n g i s t a k i n g
p l a c e . A l t h o u g h i t b r
e a k s t h e
a c t i o n d o w n
i n t o c o n v e n i e n t l y h a n d l e d
s e g m e n t s , i t ? s
s t i l l f a s t - m o v i n g e n o u g h
t o
keep the game from dragging.
T h e r e a r e
o t h e r t i m e s , t o o , w h e
n t h e D M
m i g h t c o n s i d e r
u s i n g t h e 1 - m i n u t e c o
m b a t
r o u n d a s t h e
t u r n , e v e n w h e n a c t u a
l c o m b a t
i s n ? t t a k i n g
p l a c e . T h i s t u r n l e n g
t h i s a p p r o p r i a t e i n
s t r e s s f u l s i t u a t i o n s i n v o l
v i n g a
c h a n c e o f
i n j u r y t o t h e p a r t y
? i n a s e n s e ,
c o m b a t s w i t h
t h e e n v i r o n m e n t . F o r
e x a m p l e , a P C p a r t y
i s t r y i n g t o f o r d
a f a s t f l o w i n g , d e e p r
i v e r b y h a n g i n g o n t o
a r o p e .
A t a n y m o
m e n t , a l l s o r t s o f
n a s t y t h i n g s c a n
h a p p e n : a
P C m i g h t t r i p , t h e
r o p e m i g h t
b r e a k , o r
a m o n s t e r m i g h t a t t a c
k . I t m a k e s
s e n s e t o
p l a y t h i s k i n d o f
a c t i o n o u t s l o w l y , a
m i n u t e a t
a t i m e , r a t h e r t h a n
m a k i n g o n e
r o u g h r u l i n g
t h a t e a c h P C d i d
o r d i d n o t
r e a c h t h e
o t h e r s i d e s a f e l y .
T h e 1 - m i n u t e
t u r n i s a l s o u s e f u l
w h e n a
p a r t y o r
P C i s e x p l o r i n g a
s m a l l a r e a u n d e r
a t i m e l i
m i t o r s o m e k i n d
o f p r e s s u r e . I f a
t h i e f , f o r
i n s t a n c e , i s t r y i n g t
o f i n d a s i n g l e
o b j e c t i n
a c r o w d e d r o o m , a n d
i f g u a r d s
m i g h t b u r s t
i n a n d d i s c o v e r h e r
t h e r e , t h e
D M c o u l d
b u i l d s u s p e n s e b y p l a
y i n g
m i n u t e - b y - m i n u t e .
N o v i c e D M s , h o w e v e r ,
s h o u l d u s e
t h i s t u r n l e n g t h s p a r
i n g l y u n t i l
t h e y h a v e
l o t s o f e x p e r i e n c e . O
v e r u s e d , i t
d r a g s p l a y
o u t s o l o n g t h a t
t h e s c e n a r i o
becomes boring.
U n d e r c e r t a i n
c o n d i t i o n s , t h e D M m i
g h t
a l s o c o n s i d e r
u s i n g a t u r n l e n g t h
o f o n e
h o u r . I f
t h e P C p a r t y i s
t r a v e l i n g a c r o s s a
s t r e t c h o f
t e r r a i n t h a t ? s p o t e n t i a l l y
d a n g e r o u s t o t h e m , o r
i f t h e y a r e s e a r c h i n g
i t f o r
s o m e t h i n g f a i r
l y l a r g e , t h e o n e - d a y
t r a v e l
t u r n g o e s
b y s o f a s t t h a t
i t d e s t r o y s t h e
i l l u s i o n o f
s e a r c h i n g o r f a c i n g d
a n g e r s . O n
t h e o t h e r
h a n d , a f i v e - o r
t e n - m i n u t e t u r n
c a n m a k e
t h e s e s s i o n d r a g b a d l
y . I n t h i s
c a s e , a t
u r n o f a n h o u r a
d d s s u s p e n s e w h i l e
p a s s i n g t i m e
f a i r l y q u i c k l y.
T o o m a n y D
M s , e x p e r i e n c e d o n e s
a s w e l l
a s n o v i c e s ,
h a t e t o a c c e p t t h e s e
n e w c o n d i t i o n s . I ? v e
h e a r d D M s m a k e u p
t h e m o s t
u n r e a s o h a b l e ?
r e a s o n s ? t o p r e v e n t t
h e i r
p l a y e r s f r o m
u n d e r t a k i n g n o r m a l s c o u t i n
g
a n d l o o k i n g
a r o u n d i n o u t d o o r s e t
t i n g s ,
s i m p l y b e c a u s e
t h e y w e r e t r y i n g t o
c l i n g t o
d u n g e o n - b a s e d
h a b i t s . I f a n y D M
i s f o r c e d
t o p l e a d
t h a t i t ? s m o r e f u n
i f t h e p a r t y i s
s u r p r i s e d , t h e
n t h e D M h a s d o n
e a p o o r j o b
o f p l a n n i n g
t h e s c e n a r i o .
F o r e x a m p l e ,
I r e m e m b e r w a t c h i n g o
n e
g a m e w h e r e
t h e P C p a r t y w a s
c r o s s i n g a
s t r e t c h o f
g r a s s l a n d t o r e a c h a
r u i n e d t o w n .
A l t h o u g h t h e y
w e r e m i l e s f r o m a n y
s e a c o a s t , a p e a - s o u p
f o g s u d d e n l y e n v e l o p e d
t h e m a n d
m a d e i t i m p o s s i b l e f o
r t h e m t o
s e e . O u t
o f t h i s f o g c a m e
? y o u g u e s s e d i t
? an ambush party of orcs. The players
were justifiably furious with the DM for
this
clumsy ruse, especially since the ruins
themselves would have been a perfectly
logical place to lay an ambush. The DM?s
only defense was that he?d set up a chance
of ambush before they reached the ruins,
and so the dice had made him do it.
Such a defense, of course, is no defense
at
all. It?s up to the DM to think out questions
of surprise in advance and to work with
the
terrain in the way that the actual monsters
would work. In our example above, for
instance, the party of orcs could have
made
a night raid on the PC party?s camp. Such
a
sneak attack would be consistent with
orcish
thinking and would have taken advantage
of
their superior night vision, too. Since
there
are no closed doors and twisting corridors
outdoors, the DM simply cannot run such
scenarios like he would in a dungeon.
For random encounters in the outdoors,
whether or not the party is surprised
will
depend on the type of terrain through
which
they are traveling. Let me note in passing,
for the sake of anyone who may have forgotten,
that page 49 of the DMG has rules
to determine surprise
and its effects in nondungeon situations. There is, therefore, no
need to go into it here.
Aside from questions of surprise, however,
there?s no doubt that increased visibility presents problems in non-dungeon
adventures, simply because it?s hard to
determine exactly what a PC or monster
can see at certain points. Consider, for
example, PC party approaching a temple
sitting in meadow. From a great distance
away, they can see that a building sits
there.
When they?re within a mile, they can also
tell by the architecture that it?s a temple.
But how close should they be before the
DM describes the cursed runes and sigils
on
the door that mark it as an evil place,
dangerous to approach?
The answer, unfortunately, is ?it depends.?
There are so many factors to take
into account when determining visibility
that drawing up hard and fast rules is
impossible. What follows is only a set of guidelines, meant to be fleshed
out with common
s e n s e . W h e t h e r
o r n o t a g i v e n o
b j e c t i s
v i s i b l e d e p e n d
s o n t h e a v a i l a b i l i t y
o f l i g h t ,
t h e p r e s e n c e
o f o b s t r u c t i o n s , a n d
t h e d i s t a n c e o f t h e
o b j e c t f r o m t h e v i e w e
r . T h e
D M w i l l h
a v e t o j u g g l e a l l
t h r e e o f t h e s e
f a c t o r s w h e n
m a k i n g a f i n a l d e c i s i
o n .
F u r t h e r m o r e , t h
e a m o u n t o f a t t e n t i o n
t h a t a v i
e w e r i s p a y i n g a l s o
p l a y s a p a r t i n
v i s i b i l i t y . I f
a s c o u t i s a c t i v e l y
s c a n n i n g a
h i l l s i d e f o r
e n e m i e s , s h e w i l l h a v
e a b e t t e r
c h a n c e o f
s p o t t i n g t h e m t h a n i f
s h e w e r e
p r e o c c u p i e d w i
t h h e r o w n t h o u g h t s .
A l t h o u g h t h i s m a y s e e
m l i k e a s m a l l p
o i n t ,
p a y i n g a t t e n t i
o n t o d e t a i l i s
t h e m a r k o f a
g o o d p l a y e r ,
a n d t h u s s h o u l d b e
r e w a r d e d
( o r i t s l
a c k p e n a l i z e d ) b y t h e
g a m e . W h a t
t h e AD&D
g a m e s y s t e m n e e d s i s
a s k i l l l i k e
t h e ? S p o t
H i d d e n I t e m ? s k i l l i n
t h e RuneQuest® game, one that could be used
by
any class of player in these situations.
Until
and unless something like this concept
is
added to the rules, the DM will have to
make his own arbitrary ruling on matters
of
paying attention.
<Cf. Perception>
Terrain greatly influences visibility.
In a
jungle or a rain forest, the visibility
is worse
than in a dungeon ? even in full daylight.
The foliage is such a tangled, dense mass
that characters cannot see more than 20
feet
in any direction, and beyond 10 feet only
large moving objects will be clearly visible.
If the light is poor, characters will
only be
able to see what is immediately ahead
of or
beside them. (Anyone who doubts this
should talk to soldiers who?ve fought
in
jungles, like parts of Vietnam.)
In thick forest, (oaks, maples, and so
on
with underbrush), visibility improves
somewhat to about 40 feet. The same limit
applies to chaparral and scrub, but in
some
places such cover will thin, allowing
brief
glimpses at a longer range. In open forest,
(birches or conifers, or tended parkland),
visibility opens up to 80 feet in good
light.
In plains, deserts, and snowfields, visibility
technically extends to the horizon, but
the DM should keep in mind the effect
that
sunlight glaring on snow or sand will
have
on vision. Since polarized sunglasses
don?t
exist in fantasy worlds, characters will
have
to cover or shadow their faces and squint
against the glare. They will be able to
see
clearly for only half a mile.
Out in normal open country, light is the
biggest determining factor. On a cloudy,
moonless night, obviously the conditions
are
the same as in dungeons: no one can see
anything without a light source, infravision,
or ultravision. If the night is starry,
however, characters will be able to make out
large shapes, particularly if those shapes
are
moving, out to a distance of 100 yards.
Moonlight increases visibility up to 300
yards, but the objects seen will lack
detail
and color, and very small objects will
be
overlooked unless they are shiny. Very
large
objects, like a dragon or a hill, will
be visible as silhouettes from a mile or two away.
At twilight and just before dawn, the
PCs
will be able to see clearly up to 100
yards
and obscurely up to 300 yards. Again,
dragons, hills, and so on will be visible
from
a much greater distance.
Weather also plays a part in visibility.
Heavy fog, rain, and snow obscure vision
just like twilight, unless the fog is
a real
?pea souper? or the snow is a blizzard.
In
those cases, the PCs will only be able
to see
about 100 feet ahead of them. Even very
large objects will be hidden by this kind
of
weather. Smoke in the air will obscure
vision like a light fog or heavy fog,
depending on how much of it there is.
These reductions in visibility are
not
cumulative, unlike reductions in movement
rate. The shortest range will always apply.
For instance, at twilight in a forest,
the PCs
will be able to see only 40 feet, not
100
yards.
In full daylight in open country, the problem
becomes so complex that simple rules
are useless. The best thing the DM can
do
is to look at the world around him. It?s
a
good exercise for any DM ? especially
novices ? to estimate the distance between
various objects or buildings in the campaign
environment, and notice exactly what details
are visible from what vantage points.
After a little practice, he will then
be able to
decide just how much information to give
the players when describing a setting.
Mapping the adventure
(for the novice)
One of the most convenient conventions
of dungeon play is the graphed map that
players make as they explore, one small
step
at a time. It?s so convenient, in fact,
that
leaving it behind is one of the hardest
transitions for both players and DM when they
begin to play beyond the dungeon. A dungeon
map is simply too stylized to transfer
over to more open and natural settings.
Let?s look at exactly what the graphed
map provides. First, it?s a record of
the
PCs? route for the players, and it tells
the
DM at a glance exactly what parts of the
terrain the party has explored so far.
Second, the graph acts as a calculating device
to determine movement allowance and lines
of sight. Finally, it may double as a
battle
board during combat.
In a non-dungeon adventure, no single
map can perform all these functions. Different
parts of the scenario will require different scales of distance and rates
of
movement, and too much of the setting
will
be visible at one time for the map to
be
drawn in small increments. The DM and
the players will use several different
kinds of
maps during an outdoor adventure. One
type, drawn by the DM to a fairly detailed
scale, provides either a setting or a
battle
board for important points of the scenario;
another, drawn by the players, provides
them with a record of their characters?
route(s) and what they?ve found along
the
way.
Let?s consider the player-made maps
first. The usual procedure is to adapt
the
travel system of mapping ? that is, the
players use hex paper, filling in each
hex as
they travel across it and the DM describes
what it contains. For small-scale adventures,
this system has to be used loosely,
because visibility will vary widely during
the course of the scenario.
For example, suppose a party of PCs is
tracking down a murderous warg that lives
in a wild area near farmland. At first,
the
party walks across farmland and can see
the
forest edge, looming a mile away. Rather
than waste time by describing hex after
hex
of farmland, it makes sense for the DM
to
draw the forest edge directly on the party?s
map. After all, the PCs can see it clearly.
Once the party enters the forest, however,
and visibility shrinks to forty feet,
the DM
can return to describing the terrain that
the
PCs actually cover in a turn.
The scale of these player-made maps
depends on the amount of territory the
PCs
will have to cover in an adventure. (If
each
hex covers too small an area, then the
finished map will be enormous and unwieldy,
but if the area?s too large, then there
will be
no room for the players to note important
details.) If the territory to be mapped
covers
two to four square miles, a scale of one
hex
to two hundred yards works well, provided
the hexes themselves are large enough
to
contain notes. For smaller areas, one
hundred yards per hex will produce a nicely
detailed map.
These player-made maps, however,
should never be as precise and detailed
as a
dungeon map, mostly because precision
no
longer matters outdoors. Basically, a
PC
party makes a map to record the way out
of
the mess they?re in and to make notes
of
p o s s i b l e t r e a s
u r e t o b e p i c k e d
u p a f t e r t h e
f i g h t i n g ? s o v e
r . W h a t c o u n t s o n
t h e i r m a p i s
t h e r e l a t i v e
p o s i t i o n o f i m p o r t a n t
f e a t u r e s
a n d t h e t
r a v e l t i m e b e t w e e n t h
e m . T h e
p o s i t i o n o f
e v e r y t r e e i n a
f o r e s t o r e v e r y
t w i s t a n d
t u r n o f a s t r e a m
i s u n n e c e s s a r y .
P r e c i s e d e t a i l s
d o c o u n t d u r i n g t h e
c o m b a t a n d t r e a s u r e - s e e k i n
g p h a s e s o f a n a
d v e n t u r e . E v e r y t r e e
i n a f o r e s t d o e s
b e c o m e
i m p o r t a n t i f
t h a t t r e e m i g h t p r o v i
d e s h e l t e r
f r o m a n a
r r o w - s h o t o r h i d e a
p i e c e o f t r e a s u r e . I t
? s a t t h i s p o i n t
t h a t t h e m a p b e c o m e s
a b a t t l e
b o a r d ? that is, a display of the
area in which combat or other important
actions will take place in short turns
or
rounds. This display has to include every
important feature of the terrain, as well
as
be drawn in a large enough scale to allow
the DM to regulate the movement of PCs
and monsters.
For the main points of the scenario, the
DM has to plan ahead and have the battle
boards drawn up, ready to be unrolled
at
the proper time. Since combat is so exciting,
it?s frustrating in the extreme to have
play grind to a halt while the DM sketches
out a battle board. The DM is likely to
rush
the job and make mistakes, too. A good
(and cheap) method is to use big sheets
of
newsprint and draw the terrain with colored
pencils or crayons ? green for trees,
gray
for rocks, blue for water, and black for
manmade features.
The scale of the battleboard will depend
again on the area to be covered, but in
general, the more detail available, the
better. The ideal scale is 1 inch = 10 feet; any
other scale should be based on increments
of 10 (1 inch = 20 feet or 30 feet), because
a
scale based on 10 translates perfectly
into
the combat movement rate.
In fact, here the AD&D
game?s movement system reveals its origins in table-top
wargaming. If a character has a movement
rate of 9?, for example, and the battle
board
has a scale of 1 inch = 10 feet, then
voilà!
The figure representing that character
may
move 9 inches across the battleboard in
one
combat round. If the scale is 1 inch to
30
feet, then the figure may move 3 inches,
and so on. The DM can borrow another tip
from table-top battles and have a number
of
clear plastic rulers on hand for the players
to use in measuring out their figures?
moves.
There?s one common gaming situation
that presents special problems in mapping:
the city, town, or village that the PCs
have
never seen. The characters will not know
the location of the various buildings,
nor
will they, realistically speaking, be
able to
get an overview of the city all at once.
A
purist approach to town mapping would
thus demand that the PCs map the town
as
they would a dungeon, drawing
in each
street and building as they come across
it.
I once saw a DM try to follow this approach
by having his players map a circular
walled town onto hex paper. Since the
town
was only about a mile across, in real
life the
PCs could have strolled across it in twenty
minutes. Mapping it took over three hours
? hours of constant squabbling between
the DM and the mapping player while the
other players gossiped and ate potato
chips.
The squabbles arose over fitting the various
buildings onto the map. ?But if this shop
is
that big, it overlaps this house here.
. .?
Finally the DM took over and tried drawing
the buildings on the map himself as the
PC party progressed. Unfortunately, he
had
to look back and forth between his master
map and the players? map so often that
he
got confused and left out an entire street.
This omission, of course, threw the rest
of
the map totally off.
Thus we see that DMs who value playability
over ?realism? will do well to have a
map of the town ready and simply display
it
to the players. Although this map will
only
show the exteriors of the buildings, certain
buildings should be labeled. Places like
a
blacksmith?s shop, a temple to a well-known
god, or an open-air cheese market are
so
easy to recognize at first sight that
it?s ridiculous to spend game time having the PCs
ask questions of NPCs ? or the players
ask
the DM ? to determine what they are. If
the DM needs a justification for giving
away so much information, he can rule
that
the PCs have spent several hours wandering
around to look the town over.
Beyond the
Dungeon
M o v i n g
a c a m p a i g n i n t o t h e
g r e a t o u t d o o r s : P a r t
2
by Katharine Kerr
N o w t h a t w
e ? v e d i s c u s s e d t h e g e
n e r a l
p r i n c i p l e s o f
p l a y i n g b e y o n d t h e d u
n g e o n
( E d i t o r ? s n o t e
: s e e p a r t 1 o f
t h i s a r t i c l e i n
i s s u e # 8 7 ) ,
we can get down to the techniques of running specific types of settings.
Since covering the subject fully would
take a
small book, not merely a magazine article,
what follows is only an overview. Each
section offers some new ideas for DMs
to
adapt for their own games and tries to
clarify more of that gray area in the
rule
books.
The greatest contrast of all to the dungeon
is the outdoor setting, whether it?s a
wilderness or a stretch of open country
within a settled area. This setting also
tends
to be curiously underused in AD&D®
game
playing. Many scenarios do indeed have
an
outdoor segment, usually as the party
is
traveling to a goal, but most of the real
action takes place indoors, either in
a dungeon or in a fort or other set of buildings.
Usually, too, these outdoor settings are
rushed over; the DM confines himself to
checking to see if the party is lost and
rolling for random encounters, and lets things
go at that.
A real wilderness adventure offers a lot
of
excitement and new experiences to the
players. Battling with a hostile environment
is one of the main challenges in heroic
adventures. One reason, of course, that
many DMs gloss over this kind of challenge
is that so few rules are given for dealing
with them on a turn-by-turn basis. A little
common sense, however, and a lot of extrapolation
from what rules there are will go
a long way toward filling these gaps.
First of all, though, let?s consider how
to
set up a true wilderness adventure and
see
what it might have in store for the player
characters. The main point of such a scenario
is to pit the PCs against a hostile
environment while they try to accomplish
a
simple goal. They may be trying to kill
a
dangerous monster in its wilderness lair,
find a lost person, or reach the site
of a
treasure ? anything to give them a reason
for being in the wild ? but reaching the
goal is just the midpoint of the scenario.
The real problem is staying alive in the
wilderness. The party?s true enemy is
the
terrain itself, which has weapons in harsh
conditions, natural obstacles, and the
occasional nuisance combat with wild animals.
What?s more, the PCs will be in constant
danger of running out of provisions and
getting lost. If they have any henchmen
along, they may also have to face morale
problems.
For example, I once ran a scenario in
which the party was hired to retrieve
a
magic item known to be buried in a vast
swamp. Since this crystal was under a
tall
cairn, finding it presented little problem
?
but reaching the cairn was another matter.
The party had to wade through mucky
water, so thick with algae that it was
impossible to tell semi-solid ground from quicksand (of which there was
plenty) or sudden
dropoffs into fast-flowing streams. Their
progress through the muck also stirred
up
poisonous gases and swarms of tiny insects
that could get through chain mail to sting.
In the water lived poisonous frogs, some
crocodiles, and a new kind of monster
for
my campaign, the giant carnivorous slug.
By the time they reached the cairn, the
party had lost a lot of hit points; on
the way
back, one member drowned. The players,
however, had a good time as they learned
to
think their way around and through these
obstacles. They considered this scenario
one
of the best they?d ever played and told
me
that it was a real test of their gaming
skills.
Any kind of harsh terrain provides a good
setting for these ?trial-by-environment?
scenarios. Mountains have cliffs, chasms,
and rockslides to keep the party busy.
Deserts are another good choice; not only the
lack of water, but the blazing heat and
the
presence of mirages, test the PCs to their
limits. Jungles are not only difficult
terrain
in themselves but also hide plenty of
dangerous animals and poisonous plants. For
all kinds of terrain, the DM should think
of
the worst things that can happen ? and
then make sure that they do.
Working out the mechanics for this kind
of scenario puts the DM through a few
trials
of his own. Most of the rules for dungeon
play have to be heavily modified to make
this new kind of game action work. We?ve
already discussed two of the basic rules,
movement and visibility, in part 1. When
it
comes to the turn length, the DM has to
be
flexible. For long stretches of the adventure,
a one-hour turn is usually best. When
the
going begins to get really heavy, the
DM
can switch to a five-minute turn, reserving
the one-minute turn for crucial points
of the
adventure, when the PCs are attempting
to
overcome a specific obstacle, such as
crossing a broken bridge or climbing a steep
cliff.
A b i l i t y
s c o r e s a n d s k i l l s
We now come to a central problem: just
how do the PCs manage the various obstacles
and natural traps in such an adventure?
If, for instance, the party is trying to
crawl
over a slippery bridge across a chasm,
how
does the DM determine their success or
failure? There?s no specific ?crawling
across
slippery object? skill spelled out
in the
rules. In fact, since the AD&D
game?s
character classes were set up with dungeoneering
in mind, the rules contain only a
very specialized and limited set of skills.
Only thieves and assassins, for instance,
have the skill of climbing walls, but
this rule
can?t possibly mean that other character
classes can?t climb anything at all ?
provided that the thing in question is much
easier going than a sheer wall. Likewise,
druids and rangers have certain outdoor
abilities in which only they may be proficient,
but this shouldn?t preclude other
fighters and clerics from surviving in
the
wilderness with the right equipment and
proper advice.
Many basic human activities simply
aren?t covered in the rules. Jumping <(WSG)>,
for
instance, is a skill that might come in
handy
for a character faced with a deep cleft
in the
ground that blocks his way. The same goes
for climbing up ropes, estimating distances,
and simply hanging on to a rock, cliff
face,
or whatever the PC might be climbing.
The easiest way to fill these gaps is to
fall
back on the rolled ability scores of the
PC
and use them to determine the chance that
PC has of successfully performing the
action
in question. The method is this: the DM
first determines which basic ability is
being
used in a given situation. For instance,
jumping over a cleft in the ground requires
the use of dexterity; pulling oneself
up a
rope takes strength; estimating a distance
correctly takes intelligence. Some actions
require the use of two abilities; hauling
oneself over the edge of a ledge takes
both
strength and dexterity, for example. In
those cases, the DM takes the average
of the
two abilities used. Either the single
score or
the average of two or more scores is then
turned into a percentage by multiplying
it
by five. This percentage is the base chance
that the PC has of performing the given
action successfully.
The base chance, however, has to be
heavily modified before the character?s
player can roll to see if the PC succeeds
or
fails. Various factors will either raise
or
lower the chance. The DM needs to look
at
the conditions in which the action is
being
performed, as well as the current state
of
the character, and decide if these conditions
directly affect the ability (and only
that
ability) in question.
F o r e x a m p l e ,
c o n s i d e r a c h a r a c t e r
w i t h a
d e x t e r i t y o f
1 5 w h o w a n t s t o
j u m p a c r o s s a
f i v e - f o o t - w i d e
c l e f t i n t h e g r o u n d .
S i n c e
m o s t p e o p l e
c a n j u m p a d i s t a n c e
e q u a l t o o r
l e s s t h a n
t h e i r h e i g h t p r o v i d e d
t h e y h a v e a
r u n n i n g s t a r t ,
a n d s i n c e t h i s P C
i s s i x f e e t
t a l l a n d
h a s p l e n t y o f r u n n i n g
r o o m , t h e
D M r u l e s
t h a t h e h a s h i s
b a s i c c h a n c e o f
7 5 % ( 5 t i
m e s 1 5 ) o f m a k i n g
t h e j u m p .
S u p p o s e , i n
c o n t r a s t , t h a t t h e P C
i s h e a v i l y
e n c u m b e r e d a n d
t h a t t h e c l e f t i s
t e n f e e t
w i d e . T h e
D M r u l e s t h a t h e
m u s t s u b t r a c t
1 0 % f o r h
i s e n c u m b r a n c e , a n d a
n o t h e r
1 0 % f o r e
a c h f o o t o f d i s t a n c e
g r e a t e r t h a n
h i s h e i g h t
( 4 ? , o r 4 0 % ) , g i v i n g
t h e c h a r a c t e r o n l y a
2 5 % c h a n c e o f m a k i n g
i t a c r o s s .
T o u s e t h i
s s y s t e m e f f i c i e n t l y
d u r i n g p l a y ,
t h e D M h a
s t o p l a n a h e a d .
A s h e s e t s u p a n
o b s t a c l e i n
t h e s c e n a r i o , t h e D M
s h o u l d
n o t e w h i c h
a b i l i t i e s w i l l b e u s e
d i n o v e r c o m i n g i t .
H e s h o u l d a l s o f i g u r e
o u t a n d n o t e
d o w n t h e
v a r i o u s p e r c e n t a g e p e n a l t i
e s t h a t
w i l l i n f l u e n c e
t h e c h a n c e o f s u c c e s s
. T h e n ,
w h e n t h e
P C s r e a c h t h e o b s t a c l
e , t h e D M
o n l y h a s
t o f i g u r e i n t h e
p e r s o n a l b o n u s e s o r
p e n a l t i e s f o r
e a c h s p e c i f i c P C . ( I t
a l s o s a v e s
p l a y i n g t i m e
t o p r e p a r e i n a d v a n c e
a l i s t o f
e a c h P C ? s
a b i l i t y s c o r e s m u l t i p l i e d
b y f i v e . )
F o r i n s t a n c e ,
s u p p o s e t h a t a p a r t y
c l i m b i n g
a m o u n t a i n
a t o n e p o i n t h a s
t o s c r a m b l e
o n t o a r o
c k y l e d g e . T h e D M
d e c i d e s t h a t
t h e s k i l l s
u s e d a r e s t r e n g t h a n d
d e x t e r i t y ,
a n d t h a t
t h e l e d g e i s i c y
f o r a 2 0 % p e n a l t y
a n d o v e r h a n g s
s h a r p l y e n o u g h t o s u b
t r a c t
1 0 % m o r e .
W h e n p r e s e n t i n g
t h e s e o b s t a c l e s , t h e
D M
s h o u l d a l w a y s
a l l o w t h e P C s t h e
o p p o r t u n i t y t o f i g u r e
o u t w a y s o f g i v i n g
t h e m s e l v e s
a b e t t e r
c h a n c e o f o v e r c o m i n g
i t . T h i n k i n g
t h i n g s t h r o u g h
i s w h a t t h i s k i n d
o f a d v e n t u r e i s a l l
a b o u t . I n t h e c a s e
o f o u r i c y
l e d g e , f o r
i n s t a n c e , i f a m a g i c -
u s e r i n t h e
p a r t y w a n t s
t o m e l t t h e i c e
w i t h a f i r e b a l l ,
t h e c h a r a c t e r
s h o u l d b y a l l m e a n s
b e a l l o w e d t o t r y .
I f t h e i d e a s u c c e e d s ,
t h e e x p e r i e n c e w i l l t
e a c h t h e w h o l e p a r t y
t h a t m a g i c
i s g o o d f
o r m o r e t h a n b l a s t i n g
e n e m i e s.
W h a t p e r s o n a l
f a c t o r s w i l l a f f e c t a
s p e c i f i c
P C ? s c h a n c e
o f p e r f o r m i n g a n a c t i
o n s u c c e s s f u l l y ? T h e
m o s t o b v i o u s o n e i s
e n c u m b r a n c e ; a n y h e a v i l y
e n c u m b e r e d c h a r a c t e r
w i l l h a v e
a s m a l l e r c h a n c e o f
s u c c e s s f u l l y
using strength and dexterity no matter
what
situation he faces. Weather also affects
PCS
in various ways. Extreme heat will lower
the chance of using strength, extreme
cold
does the same for dexterity, and both
conditions will adversely affect constitution. Over
a period of several days, hunger will
lower a
PC?s chance of using strength, but at
the
same time, it may add a bonus to dexterity
and intelligence. (When people (or animals)
are truly hungry buy not yet starving,
they
slip into a ?hunter mentality? that temporarily
sharpens their senses.)
The effects of exhaustion
The most important factor influencing
a
PC?s successful use of skills, however,
is
exhaustion. Becoming exhausted is one
of
the major dangers of fighting hostile
terrain,
and its influence is profound. In dungeons,
although the party must rest at least
one
turn out of six, rest breaks are usually
possible when required, and thus the question of
exhaustion comes up only rarely. Outdoors,
on the other hand, a rest break might
mean
danger, if indeed the party can even take
one. For instance, a party can?t stop
in the
middle of scaling a sheer cliff just because
it?s time for a break. Furthermore, bad
weather and being hungry will exhaust
a
party even if the members are taking the
proper time to rest.
On page 49, the DMG gives rules
for
exhaustion
induced by making forced
marches during long-distance travel, rules
which we can modify for other wilderness
conditions. Boiled down to basics, the
rules
state that a character who doesn?t rest
the
proper amount of time after a forced march
(defined as moving double the normal
movement allowance for an eight-hour day)
will run the risk of becoming exhausted
if he
moves any further. This risk is a 10%
chance of temporarily losing one level
of
experience, a risk that?s cumulative per
increment of additional movement. Thus,
the exhausted character who keeps moving
can lose more than one level, until finally
he
reaches (in effect) level -1 and dies
from the
effects of exhaustion.
At root, then, walking twice as fast as
normal for about eight hours, or walking
for
sixteen hours instead of eight, will make
a
At root, then, walking twice as fast as
normal for about eight hours, or walking
for
sixteen hours instead of eight, will make
a
c h a r a c t e r r u n
t h e r i s k o f e x h a u s t i o
n . W e c a n
n o w u s e t
h i s s t a n d a r d ? e x h a u s t i o n
p o i n t ?
t o j u d g e
o t h e r t y p e s o f a c t i v i
t y a n d d e t e r m i n e w h e n
t h e y ? l l c a u s e e x h a u s t i o n ,
m u c h
a s w e u s e
d t h e s t a n d a r d ? s t r o l
l r a t e ? t o
d e t e r m i n e o t h e
r m o v e m e n t r a t e s i n
p a r t 1 o f
t h i s a r t i c l e .
A g a i n , D M s w i l l h a v e
t o u s e
t h e i r o w n
j u d g m e n t i n m o s t s i t u
a t i o n s , b u t
h e r e a r e
s o m e g e n e r a l g u i d e l i n e s.
C l i m b i n g i s
t w i c e a s t i r i n g a s
w a l k i n g , a s
i s w a d i n g
t h r o u g h w a t e r , s a n d ,
o r d e e p
m u d . T h u s ,
c h a r a c t e r s w h o a r e c l
i m b i n g
s t e e p m o u n t a i n
s o r p u s h i n g t h e i r
w a y
t h r o u g h s w a m p s
w i l l r e a c h t h e e x h a u s
t i o n
p o i n t a f t e r
a s i n g l e d a y o f
t h i s a c t i v i t y .
A n y c h a r a c t e r
e n c u m b e r e d w i t h v e r y
h e a v y g e a r
? that is, to the point where a
character with a move of 12? can only
move
6? ? will become exhausted twice as fast
as
an unencumbered or lightly encumbered
character. Totally encumbered (down to
3?)
characters will tire three times as fast.
Extremes of temperature and other physical
discomforts will also make characters
tire quickly. Broiling heat, high humidity,
freezing cold, swarms of biting insects,
being soaking wet ? all such things take
a
toll on stamina that brings characters
to the
exhaustion point twice as fast as normal.
For example, characters marching at their
normal movement rate for a normal day
will reach the exhaustion point by nightfall
if they?re marching in extremely hot or
humid weather.
Engaging in strenuous activity without
consuming food and water will bring characters
to the exhaustion point fast. Going
without water for even a single day makes
characters tire twice as fast as normal.
A
character can go without food for one
full
day before the lack doubles his chances
of
exhaustion.
Feeling terror and despair also saps energy.
Any hirelings and henchmen who fail
morale rolls will tire twice as fast as
normal.
All of these factors are cumulative, of
course. Characters who are climbing steep
mountains when the weather is freezing
cold will reach the exhaustion point after
four hours, for example, as will a party
struggling across the soft sand of a blazing
hot desert. On the other hand, the DM
should use a little discretion when piling
up
the penalties that lead to exhaustion,
simply
because PCs are assumed to be highly motivated,
tough characters who have more will
power than the average person ever
dreamed of. Even the toughest adventurer
will break sooner or later, though, especially
when the strain continues past a single
day.
The effects of exhaustion
will be, in the
main, the same as given in the DMG:
any
character who fails an exhaustion check
will
lose one experience level. If, however,
the
DM is also using the character?s ability
scores as percentage chances to perform
actions, then the PC should also lose
one
point from each ability score for the
purpose
of these rolls only. Thus, if a 3rd-level
fighter with a strength of 16 fails an
exhaus
tion check, then he will light as a 2nd-level
lighter and use 75% (5 times 15) as his
base
chance of using strength successfully.
Since the official rule for exhaustion
is
based only on the one-day travel run,
the
question arises as to how often the DM
should make exhaustion checks in other
circumstances. My thought on the matter
is
that it depends on the severity of the
strain
upon the PCs. If the accumulated strain
is
no greater than that of a forced march,
then
the DM should check only once per day.
If
the strain is much greater, then the check
should be made at least twice per day,
and
even every hour for extreme cases.
Let?s consider a long example. A party
sets off to climb a high mountain, which
is
so steep and rocky that they?re forced
to use
grapples and pitons and proceed very
slowly. For eight hours, resting as frequently
as possible, they make their way up
to a ledge that provides a safe camp,
where
they can rest until the next day. The
DM
rules that since they?ve taken the proper
precautions, they run no risk of exhaustion.
The next morning, however, a freezing
rain springs up. Since the party?s equipment,
is now wet and the PCs are chilled to
the bone, stopping would be more dangerous
than climbing steadily. All morning they
struggle upward, trying to find another
safe
place to camp. Toward noon, a rockslide
carries away one of their henchmen and
the
provisions he was carrying. The DM makes
a morale check for the remaining henchman
and finds him demoralized by the accident.
The DM also decides that after hours of
going through these kinds of tribulations,
the PCs run the risk of becoming exhausted.
He announces to the players that
their PCs feel utterly drained and tired.
The characters, however, decide to continue
their climb. The DM secretly notes ?
and rolls for ? the 10% chance that each
PC has of becoming exhausted, but all
characters make their exhaustion check.
The problem then is to decide when to
add
another 10% increment to the chance and
roll again. Since he?s demoralized, the
henchman will tire faster than the PCs.
The
DM also decides that it stands to reason
that the tough fighters in the party will
hold
up better than the young 3rd-level magicuser
who just joined the group. Therefore,
the DM decides to roll for the henchman
and the magic-user every hour, and the
fighters every four hours.
As the climb progresses, the magic-user
fails the next two exhaustion checks.
Each
time, the DM secretly notes that he has
lost
another experience level and another point
off his ability scores. Finally, just
before
rolling a third time, the DM announces
to
the magic-user?s player that his PC can
barely stand up and feels like weeping
from
the strain. If the party and his player
force
the PC on, the DM rolls again, with the
magic-user now at level 0 and with a 50%
chance of losing yet another level. If
he does
fail this or a subsequent check and drop
to
level -1, then he dies of hypothermia
and
strain there on the slopes.
A v o i d
w a s t e f u l w a n d e r i n g
T h e r e ? s o n e
f i n a l p r o b l e m t h a t o f
t e n
a r i s e s i n
t h e w i l d e r n e s s
s c e n a r i o s . I f t h e
m o v e m e n t i s
f a i r l y c h a n n e l e d ? i f
, f o r
i n s t a n c e , t h e
P C s a r e f o l l o w i n g a
r i v e r o r
m a k i n g f o r
a k n o w n d e s t i n a t i o n ?
t h e n t h e
D M c a n p l
a c e e n c o u n t e r s a n d o b
s t a c l e s o n
t h e m a p i
n f u l l c o n f i d e n c e t h a
t t h e p a r t y
w i l l e v e n t u a l l
y r u n a c r o s s t h e m .
I f , o n t h e
o t h e r h a n d ,
t h e P C s a r e r a n d o m l y
s e a r c h i n g
o r e x p l o r i n g ,
n o t o n l y c a n t h e y
m o v e i n a n y
d i r e c t i o n t h e y
c h o o s e , b u t t h e y a l s o
r u n t h e
r i s k o f g
e t t i n g l o s t . I t i s
t h u s p o s s i b l e f o r a
p a r t y t o
s t u m b l e a r o u n d i n t h e
w i l d e r n e s s
for hours ? hours of real time, that is,
so
that the PCs may not even reach the main
point of the scenario before the playing
session has to end. What?s more, they
miss
all the clues or interesting side events
that
the DM had planned for them.
Letting the dice help make the map is a
good way to avoid such wasted effort and
boring gaming. Rather than making up a
detailed master map, the DM draws out
only its general parameters and main features,
like the extent of a stretch of forest,
the locations of major landmarks, and
the
position of the main goal of the scenario.
All
other terrain features, monster lairs,
and
obstacles go onto a list, the ?Location
Encounter Table.?
The DM can number the table in one of
two ways, depending on the complexity
of
the scenario: either to correspond with
a
random dice roll, or ? for a scenario
with a
plot ? in their order of occurrence. Either
way, the DM also assigns a probability
that
a feature or encounter will be found on
any
given turn, and of course rolls each turn
to
see if one is.
When the dice indicate that the PCs have
come across a natural feature or obstacle,
the players and the DM mark it on their
respective maps. If the party is lost
at the
time, the PCs will mark it at what has
now
become the wrong location, of course,
which makes for amusing play when they
try to find their way home again or visit
the
area again in some later session.
Behind city walls
Every campaign of any scope needs cities
and towns. Where else can the adventuring
party find supplies and pick up rumors
of
treasure to be gained? Many DMs, however,
run their cities only as bases of operations and shopping centers to fill
these basic
needs and little more. The more combat
oriented players also show very little interest
in exploring cities beyond finding the
taverns, wenches, and weapons shops. This is
a pity, because a well-run town offers
many
adventures in itself without the PCs ever
having to leave its walls.
The key to adventure in a city is intrigue,
not combat. This basic point is one that
many DMs ? and some authors of published
scenarios ? tend to overlook, thus
failing at making believable city modules.
In any given world or kingdom, there will
only be one city ? if any at all ? that?s
as
lawless or violent as, for example, Robert
Asprin?s Sanctuary. The vast
majority of
towns exist to fill the needs of either
commerce or their overlord?s government. In
both cases, these towns will be tightly
run.
Killing someone on the street, no matter
what the reason, will get a character
arrested as fast as the legal system of the town
can move.
Yet I?ve seen many cases where this obvious
truth was ignored. For example, in one
game I saw, the PC party slew a thief
at
night and dumped the body in an alley,
and
the DM never mentioned the incident
again. Neither the thieves? guild nor
the
townsfolk seemed to care that a corpse
had
been found at dawn. Similarly, during
a
discussion group at a recent convention,
one DM complained that his players had
their nominally good-aligned characters
kill
and rob rich NPCs in their homes. He
wanted to make it clear that he disapproved
of this behavior without making a merely
arbitrary ruling. When another DM suggested
that he have the PCs arrested,
worked over, and perhaps hanged by the
local militia, his response was a blank
?Oh,
I never thought of that!?
His was an extreme case, perhaps, but it
struck me as symptomatic of a widespread
attitude among AD&D
game players ?
namely, that since combat is the really
important part of the game, the DM should
bend the rules of reality to allow as
much
vi o l e n c e a s
p o s s i b l e i n t h e s c e n a
r i o . V e r y
y o u n g D M s ,
i n f a c t , s e e m t o
t h i n k t h a t a
g a m e w i t h o u t
m a y h e m i s b o r i n g . T h i
s
m i s t a k e n a t t i t
u d e a b o u t c o m b a t i s
q u i t e
p o s s i b l y t h e
r e a s o n t h a t m a n y D M s
f a i l t o
e x p l o i t t h e i r
c i t i e s p r o p e r l y . O n c e
t h e y
r e a l i z e t h a t
v i o l e n c e h a s t o b e
k e p t t o a
m i n i m u m i n
c i t i e s , t h e y s e e n o
r e a s o n t o
p l a y i n t
h e m .
T h e i r m i s t a k e
l i e s i n f o r g e t t i n g t h
a t t h e
r e a l s p i c e
o f g a m e a c t i o n i s
d a n g e r , n o t
c o m b a t per se.
If used properly, the town?s
legal system can provide that danger at
the
same time that it?s squelching random
violence. If the PCs run afoul of the
law,
they?re in danger of being hanged, maimed
(medieval-style justice isn?t pretty,
you
know), sold into slavery, or simply imprisoned
under horrifying conditions for a long,
long time. Such dangers can easily be
more
frightening than a clean death in heroic
combat.
Exposing the PCs to the aforementioned
dangers is a fairly simple proposition.
First,
and most simply, the PC party is made
up
of strangers, armed and dangerous-looking
strangers at that, who are coming into
a
closed and suspicious society. To be believable,
the typical game-world city has to be
small. A population of no more than ten
thousand for the largest city in a kingdom,
and two or three thousand for the average
town, is the usual limit. In a place that
size,
everyone knows everyone else; strangers
stick out like sore thumbs. What?s more
since most inhabitants will never have
been
more than ten miles from home in their
lives, they will be extremely intolerant
of
strange accents, customs, and morals.
As soon as the player characters hit town,
the townsfolk will be watching them, half
in
fear, half in irritation, waiting for
them to
make one wrong move. There will also be
local bullies and tough guys to start
trouble
just for the fun of it. Even though the
town
militia or other legal officers may have
hated these local roughnecks for years,
when the chips are down they won?t hesitate
to side with their fellow citizens against
a
group of outsiders.
Furthermore, if anything goes wrong in
town, such as a major crime or an outbreak
of disease, the PCs will be the first
ones
blamed. Even if the PCs manage to convince
the local officials that they?re not
responsible (or if they can bribe their
way
out of trouble), they?ll be marked men
in
the eyes of the authorities, who may later
drive them out of town on general principles.
Besides, the townsfolk may choose to
take matters into their own hands by harassing
the PCs or even, in extreme cases,
organizing a lynch mob.
Until the PC party is known and accepted
in town, therefore, they?ll have to
watch their every move, doing their best
to
curry favor by being polite, acting innocently,
and spreading their money around
with a liberal hand. Once they?re known
and at least tolerated by the townsfolk,
the
DM can lead them down further dangerous
paths by involving them in the intrigues
of
the town itself.
Every town, even one under the firm
hand of an absolute ruler, has politics,
even
if these politics are only a long-standing
rivalry between two different merchant
guilds. Since the PCs are new in town
and
thus neutral to these intrigues, it?s
perfectly
logical for one side or the other to hire
them
to carry out a dangerous task like spying
on
their rivals, stealing documents, or assassinating
someone. Getting caught on such a
mission means the PCs are on their own
against the legal system, because their
employer will deny that he ever had any
part in such shameful doings, and he will
probably be believed.
It?s also possible for the PCs to be used
as
fall guys for some crime that one political
faction has been wanting to commit for
some time, but that they feared to do
because of the law. A murder weapon could
be planted in the PCs goods, for instance,
or some of the papers stolen from enemies,
and then the militia tipped off by a ?helpful?
citizen.
The clever DM can also further muddy
such waters by introducing all kinds of
minor complications. Quite inadvertently,
a
PC might make a powerful enemy in one
faction, or befriend someone and thus
get
drawn into the infighting for his friend?s
sake. Perhaps the son or daughter of a
powerful man might take a liking to a
PC of
the appropriate sex who also has high
charisma ? much to his or her father?s annoy
ance. The PCs might overhear gossip or
information that some powerful person
wants kept secret and thus be run out
of
town by that person?s machinations. By
properly developing this kind of human
factor, the DM can work out a series of
events that keep play moving briskly for
hours without a single sword being drawn.
There?s no doubt, though, that preparing
a city or town for this kind of gaming
is a
great deal of work. The DM has to set
up
the political tensions in the city, create
the
principal actors in this drama, and roll
up a
lot of minor NPCs to keep the action moving.
Fortunately, there?s much published
material available to help the DM with
the
job, ranging from collections of generic
NPCs to full towns complete with politics.
Although purchased complete towns are
great time-savers for cities that the
PCs will
only visit briefly once or twice, it?s
much
better for a DM to create the truly important
towns in the campaign, even if he
includes liberal helpings of ideas and
stats
from published sources. To be a really
dramatic setting for adventures, the town has
to be consistent with the individual gameworld,
as well as tailored to fit its location in
the world. What?s more, once a DM has
designed the city, he really knows it
well ?
which is a crucial factor in successfully
running it. After all, if designing an
entire
city is difficult, running smooth play
in it is
equally so.
Playing cities demands that the DM have
a large amount of information both available
and well organized, or he will spend
more time riffling through pages and rolling
dice than interacting with the players.
Besides any plots or intrigues going on in
town, the DM needs a description of its
buildings and notes on its most important
inhabitants ? those with whom the PCs
are
likely to interact.
In my experience, the best way to organize
this kind of information is not flat on
the pages of a notebook, but on 3-by-5
index cards. Each building in the city
should be numbered, and a card made
describing it. In most cases, the description
will be very short, something along the
lines
of ?a poor person?s house, shabby; one
story high.? For others, like the house
of a
rich merchant who might hire the PCs,
the
description should contain enough details
for the DM to describe it clearly if the
PCs
visit there.
Similarly, important NPCs should have a
card of their own. Most, like shopkeepers
and tavernmen, need only a few lines of
description rather than full stats. The
town
militia or other lawmen, thieves, drunks
and rowdies, or anyone else who might
give
the PCs trouble will need combat stats,
of
course. Each NPC card can be filed behind
the card of the building in which he or
she
is most likely to be found, and numbered
to
correspond with that building for easy
cross-reference in the DM?s notes.
Once the cards are filled out, they can
all
be stood upright in a small box. The DM
should add a tag on the top of every tenth
c a r d , s h o w i n g
i t s n u m b e r , f o r e a s y
r e f e r e n c e . T h e n , a s t
h e P C s w a n d e r i n t o
a s h o p
o r t a v e r n ,
t h e D M c a n s i m p l y
f l i p t o t h e
c o r r e c t c a r d
i n a f e w s e c o n d s ,
r a t h e r t h a n
h a v i n g t o
h u n t t h r o u g h e n d l e s s
p a g e s i n a
b o o k . O n e
o f t h e u n w r i t t e n l a w s
o f g a m i n g
s e e m s t o
b e t h a t P C s n e v e r
e x p l o r e a t o w n
i n a n y t h i n g
r e m o t e l y r e s e m b l i n g t h e
o r d e r
i n w h i c h
t h e t o w n i s d e s c r i b e d
i n i t s k e y .
U s i n g f i l e
c a r d s g i v e s t h e h a r a s
s e d D M a
c h a n c e t o
k e e p u p w i t h t h e m .
S i n c e t h i s
s y s t e m o f f i l e c a r d s
t a k e s a f a i r
a m o u n t o f
t i m e t o s e t u p ,
I r e c o m m e n d i t
o n l y f o r
a c i t y w h e r e t h e
P C s e i t h e r l i v e a s
a
b a s e o f a
c t i o n , v i s i t r e p e a t e d l y ,
o r b e c o m e
e m b r o i l e d w i t h
i n t r i g u e a n d p l o t . A c
t u a l l y ,
i f t h e P C
s a r e g o i n g t o e
n t e r a t o w n o n l y
o n c e t o b
u y s u p p l i e s , t h e r e ? s
r e a l l y n o n e e d
t o d e v e l o p
i t m u c h a t a l l .
A w e l l - l a b e l e d
m a s t e r m a p
a n d a f e w p a g e s
o f n o t e s s h o u l d
b e a l l t h
a t t h e D M n e e d s .
B e s i d e s e n c o u n t
e r i n g N P C s i n t h e i r
s h o p s
o r r e s i d e n c e s ,
t h e P C s w i l l o f
c o u r s e h a v e
r a n d o m e n c o u n t
e r s o u t o n t h e s
t r e e t s . F o r
t h e b e n e f i t
o f n o v i c e D M s , l e t
m e r e p e a t
w h a t e x p e r i e n c
e d D M s h a v e a l l
l e a r n e d t h e
h a r d w a y :
plan ahead for these encounters,
randomly rolled or not. If the encounter
table has an entry for drunks who may
be
belligerent, the DM needs to have some
NPCs rolled with stats in readiness, for
example. Even if the random encounters
won?t lead to combat, it?s a good idea
to
have some notes and descriptions at hand.
These NPCs can all be put on file cards
and
stuck in the back of the city box in case
they?re needed. If their numbers never
come up on the random roll, then the DM
can always use them again in some other
city or on a later visit to the same one.
F o r t s
a n d s t r o n g h o l d s
Many of the most powerful -- and thus
most interesting -- NPCs in a campaign
live beyond the reach of civilized justice
in
their own strongholds, which can provide
fascinating settings for adventures. These
can range from the simplicity of a freestanding
tower for a single wizard to the
complexity of an entire castle for a nobleman
and his retainers. (The novice DM
should leave the full castle for later
in his
career.)
If the NPCs occupying a large stronghold
are ordinary and respected members of
the
populace, any adventuring done among
them will be along the lines of city adventuring
? personal interaction and intrigue
are the order of the day, with the added
danger that the lord can dispense immediate
justice on any adventurer who displeases
him. Any large stronghold will be swarming
with intrigue. If the overlord is well
liked,
then his minions will be jockeying for
his
favor; if he?s feared, then his minions
will
be trying to get what they want behind
his
back. Adventurers coming in cold to such
a
situation will have to watch every step
they
make.
If, on the other hand, the overlord of
the
stronghold is either evil or merely a
neutral
who?s put himself beyond the law, then
exploring the stronghold is going to involve
combat and the other trappings of a fullscale
dungeon adventure. At first thought,
in fact, buildings seem very similar to
dungeons. They have rooms, corridors, and
levels; they can be trapped with the usual
devices; once inside, the PC party can
map
them onto graph paper. Thus, it?s tempting
to run strongholds much like dungeons
?
but the crucial difference lies in those
simple
words, ?once inside.?
The usual conventions of dungeons are
that the entrances are either unguarded
or
only lightly guarded, allowing the party
to
map and explore a considerable stretch
before facing heavy opposition. What?s
more, in a dungeon, communication between
monsters is difficult at best and impossible at worst, allowing the party
to
clean out one lot before the next is even
aware of the party?s existence. Up on
the
surface, this situation changes drastically
?
or it should, in the hands of a thinking
DM.
Any person or group that occupies or
resides in a building is going to put
sentries,
alarms, and traps between themselves and
possible enemies. Furthermore, the building
will be placed on a defensible site ?
that is,
in some difficult terrain that allows
a good
view of anyone approaching the building.
A
PC party, therefore, is not going to gain
access simply by strolling in the front
door.
When and if fighting breaks out in the
b u i l d i n g , t h e
g r o u p d e f e n d i n g i t c a
n m u s t e r
t h e i r f o r c e s
b y t h e s i m p l e d e v i c e
o f y e l l i n g
t h e i r h e a d s
o f f . E v e n i f c o m b a t
b r e a k s o u t
i n a d i s t
a n t c o r n e r o f a n
e n o r m o u s c a s t l e ,
t h e n o i s e
w i l l s p r e a d q u i c k l y .
T h e r e s i d e n t s
i n o n e a r
e a w i l l c o m e r u n n i n g
t o j o i n t h e
b a t t l e , n o t
j u s t s i t q u i e t l y a n d
w a i t f o r t h e
P C s t o d i
s p a t c h t h o s e i n a n o t h
e r .
Oddly enough, many DMs and scenario
d e s i g n e r s h a v e
y e t t o r e a l i z e t h e
i m p l i c a t i o n s o f t h e s e
b a s i c t r u t h s . T h e r e ? s
a g o o d
e x a m p l e o f
t h i s i n t h e Forest
of Doom module published in issue #73 of
DRAGON®
Magazine, where a group of drow have
made a fortress inside an enormous tree.
Outside the door, sure enough, are some
sentries, who will indeed fight any intruders
failing to give the passwords. Once these
sentries have been overcome, however,
there?s not a word about any organized
resistance, even though such a battle
would
make a hell of a noise. If the sentries
are
defeated, the PC party can proceed to
explore the fortress room by room, facing the
remaining resistance in small contingents.
Even the masterminds among the drow will
be waiting for them in their room at the
top
of the tree. The only penalty the party
pays
for fighting a noisy battle is that these
small
pockets of resistance will be armed and
ready for trouble instead of surprised.
In actuality, of course, given this situation,
from the moment that a sentry gave
the first alarm every able-bodied fighter
and
guard in the fortress would come rushing
down to repel the invaders. The lords
of the
fort would be on the scene, participating
in
the fighting themselves as well as coordinating
the defense. After all, why should the
defenders allow an enemy party to work
its
way leisurely though their fortress, destroying
all the clever traps they worked so hard
to lay? The only reason is that the designer
wanted them to do so in order to make
the
scenario play somewhat like a dungeon
?
not quite reason enough, in my mind.
The DM who wants to run adventures in
an occupied stronghold has to face the
fact
that they are different than dungeons
and
find other ways to make them playable.
Here are two approaches that I?ve used
with
a great deal of success. Certainly, other
DMs can think of even more.
In the first way of handling a stronghold,
the scenario is simplified by having the
NPCs who live in the building be mostly
away from home when the PC party arrives.
Perhaps the pack of bandits is off on a
raid, leaving a few guards behind, or
the
evil wizard is gathering material components
with his henchmen and only his servants are in the tower. Once the PCs
have
overcome this token opposition, they can
begin mapping and exploring the stronghold
as they would a dungeon ? until the
rest of the NPCs come home to find hostile
intruders in their lair.
The DM should decide in advance on
exactly which turn the NPCs will come
back
and work out a rough plan of battle for
them. Any group clever enough and strong
enough to have gained a stronghold will
have well-rehearsed plans for such a contingency.
Likewise, the DM should give the
NPC group plenty of chances to realize
that
something?s amiss as they approach the
buildings. One of the cardinal points
of
AD&D game philosophy, after all, is:
?Always give the monsters an even break.? No
group of powerful NPCs is going to waltz
right into a trap unless the PC party
has
worked very hard to lay one.
The other way of handling a hostile
stronghold is to make taking it against
opposition the main point of the scenario.
Let me stress that an attack on a fortified
building is bloody in the extreme if the
defenders are anything more than incompetent
nitwits. To avoid the notorious ?killer
dungeon? syndrome, the DM has to give
the PCs a few breaks of their own this
time
around.
The DM should have local NPCs warn
the party that the fight will be a hard
one.
There should be chances for the PC party
to
scout the territory, try a spying expedition,
and use trickery and magic before the
actual
assault. If the building is particularly
well
defended, the PCs should have the opportunity
to hire local henchmen for the battle.
The DM need not worry that the PCs will
end up having more henchmen than their
levels allow; if he plays the defenders
properly, the casualty rate will solve that problem automatically.
To run the attack, the DM will need a
battleboard that presents the exterior
in
good detail. Ideally, the scale should
be
1" = 10? to make judging the combat movement
easy, but for a large castle or fort, a
map in that scale will cover half the
floor of
an average room! At any rate, the DM also
has to decide just what the PCs can see
of
the exterior at any given location, particularly
if the defenders are making secret
moves out of sight. I?ve found that trying
to
mask part of the battleboard with sheets
of
paper or whatnot is too awkward to be
worth the trouble ? the sheets always
get
knocked aside or misplaced. It seems better
to display the whole map but record out-ofsight
movement in the DM?s notes. This
plotted movement can always be shown to
the players later if they cry foul.
Once the attackers break into the stronghold
(or if they?re caught there by returning
NPCs), then combat will sweep through
the
building or buildings. In advance, the
DM
should prepare battleboards of each room
or
area (such as any courtyards or wards).
When combat reaches a previously unmapped
area, the DM can then lay the
proper battleboard on the table. As combat
moves on, the DM should pick up the lastused
battleboard and lay it out of sight. It?s
up to the PCs to remember where they?re
going and to form a rough impression of
the
building?s layout. During combat on unfamiliar
ground, the attackers should be in
constant danger of being cut off from
their
comrades or lost and trapped in dead-end
corridors and rooms.
T h e r o m a n c e o f r u i n s
A l t h o u g h t h e y ? r
e t e c h n i c a l l y m e r e l y
a n o t h e r t y p e
o f b u i l d i n g , r u i n s a r
e w o r t h y
o f s o m e d
e t a i l e d d i s c u s s i o n . F o r
o n e t h i n g ,
a n a b a n d o n e d
c a s t l e o r c r u m b l i n g t
o w e r
p r o v i d e s t h e
f e e l i n g o f m y s t e r y a n
d m a g i c
s o i m p o r t a n t
i n f a n t a s y g a m e s . F o r
a n o t h e r ,
s u c h a l o
c a t i o n m a k e s s p l e n d i d
l a i r s f o r
e x o t i c m o n s t e r
s . A g r i f f o n o r
a c e n t a u r i s
m o r e l i k e l y
t o b e f o u n d i n a
n a b o v e g r o u n d
ruin than down in a dungeon. The undead,
t o o , a r e
n a t u r a l i n h a b i t a n t s o f
r u i n s . P o w e r f u l u n d e a d ,
s u c h a s v a m
p i r e s , m a y e v e n
h a v e t u r n e d
a l a r g e r u i n i n t o
a s t r o n g h o l d.
R u i n s a l s o
o f f e r g o o d o p p o r t u n i t i e s
f o r
? n a t u r a l " t r a p
s t h a t c a n k e e p
t h e p l a y e r s
g u e s s i n g . A s
a n y f i r e m a n c a n t e l l
y o u ,
c l i m b i n g a r o u n
d i n a r u i n e d b u
i l d i n g i s
d a n g e r o u s . W o o
d e n f l o o r s w i l l h a v e
r o t t e d
i n s i d e t h e
t i m b e r s , t h u s p o s s i b l y
c r u m b l i n g
under the weight of any PC rash enough
to
s t e p o n t
h e m . I r o n s t a i r c a s e s
w i l l s i m i l a r l y
h a v e r u s t e d
p a r t l y t h r o u g h . F a n c y
s t o n e w o r k , s u c h a s s t
a t u a r y a n d t h e t o p
c o u r s e s
o f b a t t l e m e n t s
, w i l l b e l o o s e
a n d r e a d y t o
f a l l w h e n
t h e p a r t y c a u s e s v i b r
a t i o n s u n d e r
i t . I f t h
e r u i n w a s d e s t r o y e d
b y f i r e , t h e
v e r y s t o n e s
i n t h e w a l l s w i l l
b e c r a c k e d a n d
broken from the heat and might
very well
crumble away at heavy pressure ? such
that provided by a climbing thief.
There are also a couple of magical tricks
that the DM can play with the ruins themselves.
One is the cursed ruin. The assumption is that when the ruin
was originally
destroyed, its destroyers put a
curse spell on
one of the rooms. As soon as a PC enters
that room, the curse is activated. Similarly,
the ruin may have a geas laid
upon it.
(Abandoned temples are particularly good
for this.) After the party has fought
its way
into a secret shrine, an apparition of
a longdead priest appears and lays a geas on the party ? possibly
revenge upon those who
destroyed the temple in the first place.
Both
the curse and the geas are
good devices to
integrate the separate adventure into
the
campaign as a whole ? a goal that should
always be in the DM?s mind.
By the same token, ruins provide the DM
with a chance to make the treasure gained
in an adventure an integral part of the
game
rather than a mere reward for a hard fight.
All too often, DMs fall into predictable
habits when they roll up the loot ? so
many
coins, jewels, and standard magic items,
all
of which can be spent or sold with little
trouble. If, however, this loot is hundreds
of
years old, then the PCs can have an interesting
time trying to dispose of it.
Any coins, for starters, are not going
to
be the current coin of the realm. If a
modern person tried to buy groceries with a
besant or a doubloon, the shopkeeper would
call him crazy and kick him out of the
store.
Fantasy-world merchants should do the
same to adventurers proferring antique
coins. This means that the PCs will have
to
find a way of turning their loot into
modern
cash. They will have to search in cities
for
an antiquary or money-changer willing
to
exchange such coins. If they fail to find
one,
they may have to sell their stash to a
jeweler
for the metal ? at a loss.
Antique magic items should cause the
PCs even more trouble. Scrolls, inscriptions,
and command words could well be
written in a long-dead language, forcing
the
PCs to search for a sage who can translate
them. Similarly, standard magic items
might have been produced in different
shapes ?back then.? A cube of force,
for
example, might be a multi-faceted jewel
set
into an armband. Such puzzles will stump
the kind of player who memorizes the
DMG, but even more to the point, they
will
confront the PCs with problems to solve
that could lead to new adventures.
Not only will it be difficult to find a
sage
who is learned in antique lore, but such
a
sage will charge a good fee for appraising
finds. There?s also no reason why the
first
sage the PCs find has to know what the
item
or the language is. The PCs may have to
carry the item with them for a long time
before they learn its secrets. In the
meantime, word will get around that a party of
adventurers has something so rare that
it?s
stumping the local loremasters. What highlevel
thief could turn down a challenge like
that? There may also be some unknown (to
the party) NPC who has a good idea what
the item may be and who will move heaven
and earth to extract it from the unwilling
party.
Another interesting idea is the magic
scroll written in an archaic form of the
world-be user?s ?modern? language. Such
a
scroll will look mostly comprehensible,
thus
tempting the unwary to read it right off.
Unfortunately, as anyone who?s ever read
a
little Shakespeare knows, languages change
mightily over time. First of all, the
old
tongue will be pronounced quite differently;
secondly, certain individual words will
have
changed their meaning. In the English
of
the early 1600?s, for example, the verb
?to
let? meant ?to prevent,? and ?to prevent?
meant ?to come before someone.?
Thus, any archaic scroll will misfire if
read in the modern way. First, the scroll
might simply not work at all. Second,
its
effect might fall upon someone other than
whom the caster intends. A sleep
scroll, for
instance, might make the reader himself
fall
asleep. Finally, the spell might have
a
slightly altered effect. A scroll of
monster
summoning, for example, could bring
a
horde of mice or squealing pigs at the
magic-user?s call.
The DM can also place in ruins things
that seem perfectly ordinary but which
have
great value to collectors because they?re
antiques. Faced with this kind of treasure,
the PCs will have to think rather than
refer
to standard tables. For example, I once
ran
a scenario in a ruin where, after much
hard
fighting, the party found only a scattering
of
copper coins, a magic dagger, and a box
of
porcelain figures, packed in straw. The
grumbling was intense, but eventually
the
PCs took the figures along on the off
chance
that they were magical. A trip to an antiquary
in a nearby city taught them that the
f i g u r e s h a d
n o d w e o m e r ? t h e y
w e r e
m e r e l y i n c r e d i
b l y v a l u a b l e , a r a r e
t y p e o f
k n i c k - k n a c k i m
p o r t e d f r o m a n o w - d e a
d c i t y
a c r o s s t h e
s e a . A l o c a l l o r d
p a i d t h o u s a n d s
o f g o l d p
i e c e s f o r t h e s e t .
I f t h e P C s
i g n o r e t h i s t y p e o f
t r e a s u r e ,
t h e D M c a
n e v e n t u a l l y t i p t h e m
o f f b y
p l a n t i n g g o s s i
p i n t h e i r w a y .
A n N P C c a n
t e l l t h e m
t h a t s o - a n d - s o m a d e a
s m a l l f o r t u n e f r o m t h
a t o l d s t u f f a f t e r
t h e p a r t y h a d
s o o b l i g i n g l y
k i l l e d o f f a l l t h e
m o n s t e r s .
N e x t t i m e ,
t h e P C s w i l l t h i n k
h a r d e r .
T h e p o i n t ,
h o w e v e r , t o u s i n g t h i
s k i n d o f
t r e a s u r e i s
n o t m e r e l y t o p u t
f r u s t r a t i n g
d i f f i c u l t i e s i
n t h e c h a r a c t e r s ? p a t
h , b u t t o
h e l p e x p a n d
t h e c a m p a i g n w o r l d b e
y o n d
i s o l a t e d s c e n a
r i o s . I n t h e e x a m p l e
o f t h e
p o r c e l a i n f i g u
r e s a b o v e , t h e p l a y e r
s l e a r n e d
a l o t a b o
u t t h e c i t y w h e n
t h e y w e r e s e a r c h i n g f
o r a n a n t i q u a r y . T h e y
m a d e t h e
f r i e n d l y a c q u a
i n t a n c e o f t h e c i t y ? s
o v e r l o r d
? an acquaintance that stood them in good
stead several game-weeks later when they
were falsely accused of stealing in the
city.
They also learned an intriguing bit of
history: once there had been a mighty citystate across the sea, but for
some unknown
reason, its ships no longer came to port.
This last hint was later expanded into
a
whole new section of the campaign.
Scenarios for
the beginner
By now, the novice DM (or even a fairly
experienced one who has yet to try a non-dungeon
adventure) will realize that running
a scenario aboveground can be much
more complex than DMing a dungeon.
In
learning anything new, it?s always best
to
start small. The beginner should run a
scenario in a tower before tackling an
entire
castle, create a village before a city,
a patch
of woodland before a primeval forest,
and
so forth.
It?s also better for the novice DM to start
with scenarios that he has created rather
than relying on published modules. The
average module is too complex for a beginner,
mostly because no one is going to pay
good money for something so simple they
could have designed it themselves. What?s
more, if the DM has drawn up the scenario,
he knows it thoroughly.
It?s also better for the novice DM to start
with scenarios that he has created rather
than relying on published modules. The
average module is too complex for a beginner,
mostly because no one is going to pay
good money for something so simple they
could have designed it themselves. What?s
more, if the DM has drawn up the scenario,
he knows it thoroughly.
Let?s start on familiar ground by looking
at some features of the dungeon set-up
and
seeing how these can be used to create
other
scenarios. At root, a dungeon is an elaborate
lair, a place where a variety of monsters
have settled in to live. The purpose of
the
PC party is to kill as many monsters as
they
can and to loot as much treasure as possible.
This basic situation can be used aboveground simply by making the lair
a piece of
natural terrain or a building. There are,
however, several differences between the
dungeon and the non-dungeon lair. The
most important is the ecology of the place.
Because a dungeon is divided up into
secret areas by stone walls and solid
rock,
players can accept the polite fiction
that
monsters of widely differing types coexist
within it. The dungeon setting seems to
correspond to some basic and deep symbols
of the human mind and has a dream logic
all of its own, a logic that vanishes
up in the
open air and the light of day. I can testify
from experience that in a dungeon, players
will eagerly believe in the same event
that
they would scoff at if they encountered
it in
a natural setting.
Underground, for instance, it seems
perfectly logical that a group of orcs
would
ignore rooms containing slime molds, giant
spiders, evil wizards, and other such
obstacles to a quiet life. If these same orcs have
taken over a castle, however, where all
the
rooms are easily visible and accessible,
it?s
no longer possible to believe that they
would
ignore potential dangers.
It?s necessary, therefore, to invent a
logical ecology for monsters in a non-dungeon
setting. Any intelligent monsters will
get rid
of unintelligent monsters as much as possible,
or else use them for some purpose. The
orcs in the castle, for instance, might
allow
slime molds to go on growing in front
of an
entrance that they themselves never use.
If
there are different groups of intelligent
beings in the same place, they have to
be
either cooperating with one another, following
a policy of studied neutrality (which
might be broken at any minute by some
hostile act), or else engaged in combat
over
who gets the lair.
Even unintelligent monsters will prey on
each other if they can see that possible
prey
i s c l o s e
a t h a n d . I n a n y
g i v e n a r e a , t h e r e
w i l l o n l y
b e o n e l a r g e c a r n i v o r
e ( o r a m a t e d
p a i r ) , b e c a u s e
t h i s k i n d o f a n i m a l
s t a k e s o u t
a t e r r i t o r y ,
e v e n i n f a n t a s y w o r l d
s . T h e r e
s i m p l y i s n ? t
e n o u g h f o o d a r o u n d a
s i n g l e
l a i r f o r
m o r e t h a n o n e p a i r
o f l a r g e c a r n i v o r e s .
P a c k s o f s m a l l e r c a r n
i v o r e s , l i k e
w o l v e s a n d
g i a n t r a t s , w i l l a l s o
t r y t o k e e p
t h e i r t e r r i t o r
y f r e e o f c o m p e t i t i o n
.
W h e n i t c o
m e s t o c h o o s i n g a
s e t t i n g f o r
s i m p l e s c e n a r i
o b a s e d o n t h e m
o n s t e r l a i r ,
c a v e r n s a r e
a g o o d f i r s t c h o i c e
f o r a b e g i n n i n g D M ,
b e c a u s e t h e y h a v e s o
m a n y f e a t u r e s i n c o m m
o n w i t h d u n g e o n s , w h i
l e
h a v i n g d i f f e r e
n c e s t h a t g i v e p l a y
a n e w f e e l .
F o r s t a r t e r s ,
c a v e r n s c a n n o t b e m a p
p e d
o n t o g r a p h
p a p e r a n d t h u s g i v e
t h e p l a y e r s
a good taste of non-dungeon mapping.
C a v e r n s c a n
a l s o b e f u l l o f
n a t u r a l ? t r a p s ?
a n d o b s t a c l e s
t o g i v e t h e n o v i c e
a c h a n c e t o
l e a r n h o w
t o j u d g e s u c h t h i n g s .
T h e r e c a n
be slimy floors, sudden dropoffs and holes,
u n d e r g r o u n d s t
r e a m s , a n d t u n n e l s t h
a t
d e a d - e n d o r
g r o w s o n a r r o w t h a t
t h e P C s
h a v e t o c
r a w l t h r o u g h t h e m.
W i l d f o r e s t s
a r e a n o t h e r g o o d c h o i
c e
b e c a u s e t h e y
t o o l i m i t v i s i b i l i t y
a n d t h u s
m a k e m a p p i n g
e a s i e r . A f o r e s t a l s o
a l l o w s a
p r e t t y g o o d
v a r i e t y o f r a n d o m e n c
o u n t e r s ;
d e e p i n s i d e
i t c a n b e a v a r i
e t y o f l a i r s ?
d e n s o f w
i l d a n i m a l s , w e b s o f
g i a n t s p i d e r s ,
t h e h u t o
f a m a d w i z a r d o
r t h e c a m p o f a
g r o u p o f
b a n d i t s ? a l l h i d d e n
f r o m o n e
a n o t h e r a s
w e l l a s f r o m t h e
P C s .
T h e s p e c i f i c
t e r r i t o r y i n t h e D M ? s
g a m e
w o r l d w i l l
s u g g e s t m a n y o t h e r s e
t t i n g s f o r a
m o n s t e r l a i r .
A s t r e t c h o f m a r s h
o r a d e a d e n d r a v i n e
s o f i l l e d w i t h b r u s h
t h a t t h e P C s
h a v e t o c
u t t h e i r w a y t h r o u g h
i t a r e b o t h
a l w a y s f u n .
T h e D M n e e d s t o
r e m e m b e r ,
h o w e v e r , t h a t
a n y l a i r h a s t o
c o n t a i n a
r e a s o n a b l e m e a
n s o f f e e d i n g a n d
w a t e r i n g
t h e c r e a t u r e s
t h a t l i v e i n i t .
W o o d s a n d
m a r s h e s s i m p l y
d o n ? t h a v e t h a t ? d u n g
e o n i s h ? m o o d o f a b s o l
u t e m a g i c t h a t m a k e s
a n y t h i n g believable.
Similarly, the DM should provide some
believable motivation for the PCs to get
them to explore these dangerous lairs.
In
the case of wild animals and other unintelligent
monsters, perhaps local farmers can
beg or hire the PC party to remove this
menace from their neighborhood. For intelligent
monsters and evil NPCs, the DM can
plant rumors of treasure to be gained
and
good deeds to be done. If the targeted
NPC
is merely neutral, the DM should make
the
players check with local authorities to
see if
their target is fair game. Up on the surface
of the world, the party can no longer
plunder and kill with impunity. As early as
possible, the new DM should get into the
habit of connecting the scenarios with
the
reality of the game-world.
From the scenario to the world
All non-dungeon adventures take place
in
a world which has both a past and an ongoing
pattern of daily life. The people in
this world have their own concerns, few
of
which have anything to do with heroism
and adventuring; they will interact with
the
PCs on the basis of these concerns, not
in
accordance with what the PCs want out
of
them. A dungeon
can be a self-contained
and dreamlike place, but the campaign
world has it own reality.
As the novice DM draws up and runs
some non-dungeon adventures, he or she
should be thinking about this new world
that?s coming into being. How do the PCs
travel from one scenario to another? What
do they see along the way? Whom do they
meet? Who built all those ruins, anyway,
and what destroyed them? By asking and
answering such questions, the new DM is
taking solid steps toward building a full
campaign.
The experienced DM can use nondungeon scenarios
to solidify and expand
the game-world he or she has created.
Places that were just names on maps become
real when the PC party has run great
risks to explore them in detail. As the
PCs
make friends ? or enemies ? in their
adventuring, population figures and social
classes take on meaning and depth. Eventually
the aboveground campaign develops
into a saga, an ongoing narrative of mighty
deeds, amusing episodes, and fond memories
of friends now gone. At that point, the
increased pleasure that both the DM and
the players get from their gaming will
make
the work involved in getting beyond the
dungeon seem very worthwhile indeed.
LETTERS
-
Further beyond
-
To the editor:
Katharine Kerr's "Beyond the Dungeon" (Part
2) in issue #88 is one of the most intelligent
and
clearly written pieces I've ever seen in your
pages. Ms. Kerr's work is a wealth of ideas and
speculation to even a veteran DM. In the spirit of
her article, I want to pass on a few thoughts
based on my experience. There are two points I
will address: using the six ability scores to roll
success in a variety of situations, and the reaction
of city dwellers to player characters.
In an example, Ms. Kerr suggests judging a
PC's ability to leap across a five-foot-wide pit by
multiplying the character's dexterity of 15 by a
factor of 5. The result (75% in this case) represents
the chance of success. My complaint is that
this approach is too generous to low ability scores
and too stringent on high ones.
The six basic characteristics are rolled on 3d6,
so each point represents a different amount rather
than a constant 5%, as Ms. Kerr suggests. It is,
for example, 7% easier to roll a 7 or less than it is
for a 6 or less, and 9% easier for an 8 than a 7.
Someone with a 3 dexterity should have a 0.5%
chance of accomplishing a dexterity-based feat,
not a 15% chance. A 15 dexterity should give a
95% chance: the odds of rolling 15 or less on 3d6.
Allowing only a 75% chance devalues a score of
15.
Aside from being more realistic, this approach
does not require figuring the odds as a percentage.
The DM simply hands the player 3d6, with
instructions to roll the character's dexterity (or
strength, intelligence, etc.) or under.
Note that you can also avoid calculating percentages
with Ms. Kerr's method. Simply check
the ability score by rolling a d20. The effect is the
same as multiplying by 5 and rolling percentile
dice.
On to the second point. The material on city
adventures is superb, but I disagree in one area.
Assuming that the overwhelming percentage of
city folks are zero-level, they will be fearfully
respectful of adventurers. In light of the attackrate
note on p.25 of the Players Handbook, a <UA
update: Attacks Per Melee Round Table>
Swashbuckler can conceivably slay
5 members
of a lynch mob per round. A Thaumaturgist
is somewhat more effective in the same situation.
City residents know this is the state of affairs and
will behave accordingly.
Jonathan Heiles
Pleasant Valley, N.Y.
(Dragon #91)
The mathematical logic of Jonathan’s argument
cannot be refuted; however, there’s a reason
why his approach might not be appropriate for
this purpose.
What we’re talking about here is using ability
scores to determine the chance for success when a
character tries to perform a basically simple
action. Anyone should be able to accomplish
some things, like jumping across a chasm as wide
as he is tall, with at least a reasonable chance of
success no matter how low the character’s dexterity
is. At the low end of the dexterity scale, the
system in the article is certainly more fair than
the system that Jonathan’s reasoning suggests. A
character with a dexterity of 5 wouldn't live long
in an adventure with a lot of “dexterity checks” if
the player had to roll 5 or less on 3d6 every time
a check was taken. The chance of doing so is a
shade over 3%. It doesn't seem overly generous
to give the character a base figure of 25% instead;
he’s still going to fail his share of dexterity
checks and pay the price for being clumsy, but at
least he’s got a fighting chance — or a chance to
fight, if you prefer. No one in the playing group
will like the 3d6 rule very much, especially if the
clumsiest character also happens to be the party’s
only cleric.
Katharine’s system is more difficult to justify
toward the higher end of the dexterity scale. If
jumping across a small pit is no big thing, and
even the clumsiest of characters can do it with a
reasonable chance of success, then why should
anyone with above-average dexterity or better
have any trouble at all? For those of you who
agree with Jonathan, try tinkering with the
system: Award 5% per point up to 10, and 10%
per point after that, up to a maximum of 99% at
15 and above. This puts all characters with
dexterity of 15-18 on equal footing, so to speak,
which addresses Jonathan's complaint. It also
attaches some significance to the range of dexterity
scores from 11 through 15; if the players in
your campaign know that you use a system like
this, it might give them some more to think about
during the character-generation process.
Or, you can keep Katharine’s system intact,
reasoning that the “5% per point” system already
does make each point of dexterity (or
whatever) significant — and it already has the
potential to make players think harder during
character generation; even if you're not planning
to run a thief, you might want to assign a high
score for your character’s dexterity to increase his
chances of making a five-foot leap across a sixfoot-
wide pit. Dexterity is a good example to
illustrate this way of thinking, because a lot of
dexterity checks will probably involve the threat
of damage, and may even be life-or-death situations.
In contrast, I can't imagine a character’s
survival resting on a “charisma check,” except in
an unusual and probably unique situation (“The
god of vanity is repulsed by your countenance,
and you vanish in a puff of smoke.”).
Using the 3d6 system for ability-score checks
seems to run contrary to the rule structure for
bonuses and penalties for a high or low score.
The reaction/attacking bonus for dexterity begins
at +1 for a score of 16 and goes up by 1 for each
increase in score thereafter. The defensive adjustment
bonus to armor class starts at 15 and improves
by 1 for each point of dexterity higher
than that. Each of these points of improvement
represents a 5% increment; similarly, penalties
and bonuses on thieving abilities are also
awarded in 5% increments. Katharine’s system
seems to be a logical outgrowth of this reasoning.
Is it simpler to not convert the ability score into
a percentage and use a d20 instead? Sure, in most
cases. But the percentage method does allow the
DM more flexibility. He might want to modify
the base chance by some strange number like 8%
or l3%, or he might want to allow a 1% or 3%
chance of something really weird happening. For
times like this, percentile dice are obviously
necessary; at other times, a d20 would probably
do. But don’t switch back and forth between two
types of dice for ability-score checks, or the
players might figure out when you've got something
really devious on your mind.
— KM
(Dragon #91)