Troll GM is Troll

In a previous post I mentioned Sophie's poker face.  It's really more like a Mona Lisa smile, especially in the eyes.  She has heavy lids, and nice lips with only the faintest hint of a smile.  When she gives me this look, I feel like she's appraising me.  It's the same look she had on her face when she entered the world, and it's as disconcerting now as it was then.

Warning: Spoilers ahead.  This post contains information about the Black Fang adventure that comes with the Pathfinder Beginner Box.

When she was running the "Black Fang" adventure, one of the treasures the party found before I arrived to play was a little wooden toy dragon with ruby eyes.  The rubies were worth something like 50 gold pieces a pop.  A nice little find.  Then the characters went on to die several times.  When they did, Sophie let them come back to life in the dungeon, with a caveat:  she placed them randomly in the dungeon.  She also instituted a teleportation trap.  Her reasoning, we learned later, was that the characters had already cleared the rooms, so she was trying to make the old rooms interesting.  She also wasn't letting the players see the whole map that comes printed on the battle mat that comes in the box.  This made sense, given the teleportation trap, and resulted in that wonderful feeling of being lost.  All of this was her invention, by the way.  Nothing new, of course, but cool that she came up with it on her own.

What the players didn't know was that Sophie had run out of treasures to hand out.

When I joined, we defeated some goblins and found their treasure chest.  Unfortunately for Sophie, the players had already cleared this room once before and taken the treasure, so she had to come up with something new on the fly.  One of the items she put in there was another toy dragon, this time with Saphire eyes.  The girls quickly pointed out that they already had one kind of like it.  "Cool," I said, thinking that since there were two such toys that it must be a clue or puzzle of some sort.  "Maybe there are more."

"Maybe together they form a weapon," suggested Livie, playing a wizard.

I looked over at Sophie, and she was wearing that old, familiar expression on her face.  No help there, but I felt we were on the right track.

A little later on we stumbled on the lair of Black Fang himself, a black dragon.  We weren't ready to take on a dragon.  He didn't see us, so we carefully withdrew.  Our plan was to clear out everything else in the dungeon and, hopefully, level up before the big showdown.

We did find another treasure later on, and what do you know?  It had a toy dragon in it.  Sophie's expression remained unchanged.  At this point our own personal maps connected all the rooms together, and the only room left was the dragon's lair.  We did level up and, most importantly in our minds, we had the entire set of toy dragons.  Off we went to face the menace.

It did not go well.  We were already faring poorly in the combat when Livie said, "What about the toys?"

"Of course!  The toys!"

Her wizard then proceeded to waste several rounds using Mage Hand to summon the toys from my possession to hers, then try to assemble the toys in some way, and even point them at the dragon and yell commands to try to activate the figures.

No luck.  They were just toys.  The dragon killed us.

...but Sophie was getting tired of us dying all the time and bailed us out (just an opinion:  this initial adventure should really have at least four characters in play, not just the three that we tried it with).   And so we "defeated" the dragon.

Afterwards I asked Sophie about the toys, and that's when I learned that she had simply made up the second toy and then intentionally added the third toy with the sole purpose of messing with us.  She had heard our musings about their purpose and decided it would be fun to feed into them to give them credence.   She even entertained the possibility of stealing our idea and making the toys special in some way, but figured it would be more fun to have them do nothing at all.

In other words, she trolled us.  Hard.  And her expression hadn't changed one tiny bit the whole time.

I am so proud.

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Note:  I tried to photograph her expression this morning to share on this post.  Although I captured the expression, her hair was all mangled and the lighting wasn't doing her any favors.  I figure if I'm going to post pictures of my kids on the web, I at least owe it to them to let them look their best.  Thus, no pic.

For the Orphans

Story time, from when I joined the Pathfinder game my daughter Sophie was running.

It seems that their characters had already died a few times in the dungeon that comes with the Pathfinder Beginner Box, so they were eager for me to play a cleric who could heal them if they got into hot water again.  So I grabbed the pre-generated cleric character, changed her sex to male, named him "Kyras," and jumped right in.  I immediately made it known that I was a servant of Serenrae, goddess of light and healing, and encouraged their characters to join me in asking for my goddess' blessings for our adventuring party.  They quickly wearied of Kyras's in-your-face evangelism.  Kyras eventually took the hint, and they got on with the adventure.

The best part was after we killed the goblin king and one of his minions.  I said, "I check the goblin king's corpse to see what he had."

Livie said, "Yeah!  Let's steal their stuff!"

"Excuse me?" I responded, admonishing her.  "Shouldn't it go to the orphans?"

Sophie squinted in confusion and silently mouthed the question, Orphans?  She hadn't mentioned any orphans.  Nora was equally perplexed and loudly demanded to know what orphans I was referring to.  But Livie, always a quick study, knew what I was up to and just smacked her forehead with her palm and groaned.

Since Nora was still confused, I elaborated.  "The goblins stole these things from the villagers they killed.  They really belong to the village.  The temple of Serenrae believes the money should be spent to feed and house the village orphans."

Livie's character did not agree.  After all, she was the one putting her life on the line to rid the village of these monstrous threats.  She lobbied for a three-way split.  When the cleric refused to budge, she played her ace.   "Ok," she countered.  "What if I just walk out of here and leave you two here alone, and the villagers all get killed because you can't kill the dragon?  How will your orphans do then, hmm?"

"You have a good point," I admitted, and we agreed to an even split, although Nora's character announced she would be helping the orphans too.  

"I couldn't help but notice you're wearing the ring of protection you found," added Livie slyly, pointing out my hypocrisy.  

"I need to survive," I retorted.  "For the orphans, of course."

Return of the Blog

Hey, I'm back!  It's been too long.

Gymnastics has proven to be an RPG killer in our home, but it looks like we're starting to ramp up again.  This summer should be especially good, since we'll have big chunks of time on the weekends that we don't have now.

In the past few months, I gave my 11-year-old daughter Sophie Paizo's Pathfinder Beginner Box.  I can't say enough nice things about this set.    Since this product has been out for awhile, and since there is no shortage of information on the Internet about its contents, I'm not going to give it a full review here.  Instead, let it suffice to say that Sophie was able to take the box and run a game very easily.  That's saying something for a game as complicated as Pathfinder/ D&D 3.5.

The best part was that I didn't have to help.  The kids wanted to play, but I had plans to be elsewhere.  They were bummed, so on my way out the door I said, "Why not open up your Beginner Box and have at it?"  They got all excited and started their prep.

Four hours later I returned home and they were still playing, with no signs of slowing down.  I joined in by taking on one of the pre-generated characters that come in the box, the cleric (because "Daddy, we need healing!"), and before long we were facing down Black Fang.

Sophie's going to be a great GM.  She is devious and has a great poker face, critical for successful trolling.  More on that next time.

The Tomb of Horrors

A few weeks ago I had a crazy idea to run my kids through a classic AD&D module known as S1: Tomb of Horrors by Gary Gygax. Written in 1975, this adventure has the reputation of being perhaps the most difficult commercially available dungeon ever created for the game. I advise players against risking their most cherished characters in the Tomb, as death comes swiftly and often. Better to create throwaway characters for use exclusively in the Tomb, and avoid becoming too attached to the doomed delvers.

I chose this dungeon for several reasons. First, I never had a chance to play it when I was younger. I was never really that alert to the RPG scene, especially back then as a kid, and so when I heard about this killer module and went to buy it, I picked up the wrong one (pretty sure I snagged this one). Oh well. I have it now, years later, but I made sure to grab a copy of the original version, rather than one of the adaptations for later editions. I didn't want the imminent threat of death to get watered down. Later editions of the game are soft on characters. Characters nowadays are heroes destined for greatness. Back then, characters were just as likely to end up as monster food. "Destiny" was a term awarded to characters only after they survived long enough to both accomplish heroic feats and retire in one piece, but I digress.

The second reason I chose this dungeon is because the way it is written, it is all about the players vs. the dungeon, not the characters vs. the dungeon. Tomb of Horrors is a series of puzzles, maps, and traps, and it is up to the players to solve these challenges rather than for the dice to do so. No passive perception checks with a d20 to see if the characters notice anything fishy, for example. Nope. The players have to announce where they look, where they step, what they touch, etc. If they want to find traps, they have a percentage chance to succeed, but they have to say exactly where they're checking and what kinds of things they're looking for. You get through the ordeal by using your brain and taking extraordinary precautions, or you get through it by having your characters die, rolling up new ones, entering the tomb again, and remembering what you did wrong last time so you can avoid death the next time around. Obviously this latter approach is very "meta" (because new characters shouldn't really have access to knowledge that the player gained from a totally different character). Normally I do not permit actions based on meta knowledge, but in this adventure I make an exception. The dungeon was created by an adult to challenge expert, adult players. I'm running kids ages 7 to 12 here. They'll need all the meta knowledge they can get.

So we were playing today during Hurricane Irene, via candlelight. Kind of creepy. Also kind of difficult. I couldn't see the map and room descriptions, and the kids couldn't read their character sheets. We used a flashlight to solve this problem.

There were six kids: my three, two from next door, and a new player from two doors down. Five girls and one boy. The new girl is 7 years old, and a real stitch. Great little role player and keeps us all laughing. This was our second session in the Tomb: last time it took us 4 hours just to find a way in and deal with the first encounter. Much of that time was lost shopping for farm animals followed by a tactical discussion around elimination in the wild. The kids' game is definitely a different experience than the sessions I run with my peers.

Today, things started out rough: kids bickering over trivial matters, goofing off, talking out of turn, etc. You know, like kids do. This irritates me to no end. After all, I was taking a peaceful nap, enjoying the hurricane. I had the sounds of wind, rain, and the oscillating fan, all at once. It was the perfect storm (pun unintended but enjoyed nonetheless). And they came and got me, not the other way around, and for what? To listen to them bicker and yell? I almost got up and left the table. Instead, I told them to roll initiative.

Nothing gets their attention like those two words: "roll initiative." Initiative usually means combat, and combat is serious stuff that commands respect. They were instantly rapt. But I wasn't thinking combat. I had something else in mind.

Based on the initiative order, I asked each one in turn what they were doing next. If anyone spoke out of turn, I politely cut them off and returned attention to the person whose turn it was. If the player used her turn to speak to another player, I allowed that conversation to occur in character. I only answered questions asked in turn, though I would have respected any that were asked politely. This approach got things going smoothly for two whole rounds! The game was finally progressing, and before long the halfling fell into a pit of spikes but narrowly avoided death.

Speaking of avoiding things narrowly, it was precisely at that moment when we heard a huge whoosh! outside. Everyone got very excited and anxious and ran to the window to see what had happened. My wife had been watching out the window and saw the whole thing: a tree fell into our neighbor's driveway, just a few feet from my Honda CRV. That was it for the kids: they grabbed the flashlight and headed to the basement. Our descent into the Tomb of Horrors would be postponed.

Click to embiggen

Lights flickering around me again right now, so I'm signing off.

Fantasy Inspired Art

I'm not sure what this is supposed to be, but it better not be a bong.

Click on the image to embiggen it.

This is from my 7-year-old. Usually she draws me dragons. Fiendishly good ones, actually. I mean, the artwork isn't technically anything special, but her dragons have an edge to them that I think is lacking in modern depictions of dragons. Hers look...diabolical. I think it's the horns.

But this? I have no idea what it's supposed to be. She went to bed before I could ask her about it, so it will have to remain a mystery for now.

Maybe it's a map?

Suddenly, a Game Breaks Out

For my birthday last week my wife gave me a rolling toolbox to put my RPG supplies in. This was a thoughtful gift. She had seen me make multiple trips to load up my car before heading out to game sessions. Usually it takes three trips. Now, thanks to my rolling toolbox, it will take only one trip, two if I'm bearing snacks. And it gives me a single place to store my stuff in between sessions.

I also picked up a 48" x 34.5" battlemat by Chessex. I love my new battlemat.

So on Thursday while I was at work I got a phone call from my oldest daughter. "Dad, where is Pinky's sheet?"

This could only mean one thing: they were playing Pathfinder. On their own, without me, which is exactly what I always want to happen. The more they figure things out for themselves, the more effective a learning tool it becomes. Anyway, I didn't know where Pinky's sheet was, but I knew how to help. "He's a riding dog. Look up 'dog' in the Bestiary."

"Oh, right. Ok, bye!" Click.

I learned later how it happened. The little girl next door was playing with my kids, and they were showing her my new toys. They were looking at all my minis and the new battlemat, getting more and more excited, and somebody finally said, "Hey, you know what? We should play!"

And so they did.

The Mosster Truck

What a fun session we had today! The kids finally got a taste of the action waiting for them in our Savage Worlds Sxibi campaign setting. They started out at Billy Bob Bo's Weaponry Emporium (my 10-year-old named the store) where Ramoka bought a pair of punching daggers, and Lucia bought a used ray gun. Zukey asked for an elven curved blade, and the shopkeeper disappeared behind a curtain. A moment later there was a flash of light, a crackling sound, and the smell of ozone. Then he returned handling an elven curved blade oven mitts, and advised Zukey to be careful because the sword was "hot." Then he effectively robbed her by charging her $200 for the sword (he had asked how much she was willing to pay, and she had replied $200. Sold).

While deciding on the ray gun, my daughter asked me to look up pics of ray guns online so she could decide what she wanted it to look like. She ended up drawing one from her imagination, but we all thought this DIY project looked cool.

After they had paid for their weapons, a delivery man walked in and handed some packages to Billy Bob Bo. Lucia's danger sense warned her that something was wrong, and her hair turned brown. She tried to warn the shopkeeper, but it was too late, the package exploded and purple moss shot in every direction. It stuck to a few of the customers in the store and killed them. That's all the adventurers needed to see, and they left the store lickety-split, passing a befuddled-looking store security robot on the way. Out front, they noticed the delivery man's hover truck had moss growing on its sides. Ramoka's fur stood on end, and they elected to leave the scene...

...and visit a tattoo parlor! We spent about 15 minutes drawing tattoos and searching Google for ideas. Meanwhile, I went to YouTube and found this music (a style called Dubstep), which I told them was playing in the parlor. "Turn it up!" they said, because it really did feel right for the setting, and it was decided that the type of people working and hanging out at the tattoo parlor ("BAE," which stands for "Body Art Explosion") would want it loud. Thus it was that they each spent $50 and about an hour inside getting their ink done, while just outside the doors, the mosspocalypse was getting underway. As they were finishing up, they heard the screams from outside, and sporadic gunfire. Again, hair turned brown and fur stood on end, and they warily approached the door to see what was going on outside.

The first thing they saw was the hover truck, now completely covered in the purple moss, running amok, mowing down pedestrians, and crashing into everything. It was completely dominating the streets, careening around corners and then returning again with a vengeance. They also saw some people covered in moss ambling about. "Zombies! Moss zombies!" exclaimed Lucia. Then she announced her hair was no longer brown: it was now black. "What does black mean?" I asked.

"It means I'm deadly," she replied, drawing her laser pistol and preparing to step outside.

"But you'll hurt the people!" objected Ramoka.

"They're dead! Can't you see? It's too late, the moss got them!"

And so on.

Ramoka and Zukey hatched a plan to obtain weed killer, but they needed to know where to buy it. They consulted Robot (played by my wife), but they accidentally asked her where to find robot killer instead of where to find weed killer. Robot was so frightened by this slip of the tongue that she leaked oil all over the pavement, and refused to use her internet connection to aid them until they apologized and agreed to buy her some Quaker State motor oil. The kids agreed, and Ramoka and Zukey ran off to the pharmacy around the corner to get the weed killer (but not before Ramoka threw a tattoo needle into the face of one of the moss zombies).

Lucia stayed behind to fend off the other zombies. One of them hit her hard, leaving her shaken, but the moss didn't take root on her skin. She recovered quickly and took them out one by one with her pistol. Eventually Ramoka returned alone* with the weed killer, and the two of them went around another corner to follow the sounds of sirens, explosions, and automatic weapons fire they were hearing.

They found four SWAT team commandos with shields taking on the moss-covered hover truck. My youngest played the role of the cops, and since it wasn't her character, she was suddenly all about blowing away baddies. Ramoka charged in with the weed killer, spraying down one corner of the truck and delivering a painful wound that made the truck honk in agony. Lucia toasted it with her ray gun and brought the truck to the brink of destruction, and the commandos finished it off. Their weapons ignited a hydrogen tank which exploded with concussive force, knocking almost everyone over and spraying moss everywhere.

We were getting tired so we wrapped up the session with a conversation with one of the commandos, who said the SWAT team could use some stout folks like the players' characters. Lucia said sure, why not, since they did have a coffee machine at the precinct. Ramoka was open to the idea but not thrilled with the early morning hours. We'll see if Zukey takes the bait. They need jobs, that much is certain.

More to come.

*Note: Ramoka was alone because Zukey decided that discretion was the better part of valor and stayed behind at the pharmacy. Thus continues a trend in our games: the character with the most power - in this case Zukey is a "mentalist" with psionic powers - is always played by my youngest daughter, who feels that most if not all combat should be strictly avoided.