NPC Parties

One of the most dreaded results on the random encounter table is the NPC party. Not for the players, but for me when I’m GM’ing. I am suddenly responsible for randomly rolling five or more characters right in the middle of a game. The best solution I’ve found, for wilderness encounter tables, is to pre-generate several NPC parties, and then randomly determine which one is met.

Nabonidas of Akhdar

Not every dungeon has an NPC party but some should, unless the GM has determined that the players are pretty much the only adventurers in the area. For dungeon encounters, it makes more sense for me to pregenerate one or possibly two parties of NPCs for that specific dungeon. Then they can appear by name on random encounter tables for dungeon levels appropriate to their abilities, or more rarely on other levels where they’re either passing through or in over their heads. You can also roll a check (1 in 20 works well) to have them be in a room the players are about to enter.

Below is a party of NPCs that I used in a slightly different way. I placed them in one of the rooms of the Temple Catacombs under the ruined temple at the corner of Castle Nicodemus. But then I put one member of their party on the random encounter chart for the Catacombs. That way they might run into him first (chasing a polymorphed but defeated green slaad), giving the players the opportunity to interact with him, trace his steps back to the rest of the NPC party, or some combination of the two (or ignore him altogether, of course). The players also might run into the main body of the NPC party first, thus hearing about their recent defeat of a green slaad who bolted and ran rather than giving over the soul gem embedded in its forehead. The players could then choose to interact with the NPC party, help them track down their “ranger” who chased off after the slaad, try to avoid them, attack them for their loot, or anything else the players might think of. (You might recognise the ranger, the green slaad polymorphed into a raven, and his party of companions. If you do, please let me know in the comments or on G+. The basic idea for them, though not their party composition, is lifted from some old pre-WOTC TSR product, but I can’t remember which one.)

The first question I addressed about them was “why are they there?” I decided they were a professional treasure hunting company hired to find a specific item. In addition to providing some variety from the usual simple lust for loot, this choice also snuck in some incidental information about the campaign world. Anglia and other nearby kingdoms and locales are rich enough in ruins to support a professional company of delvers. The ruins are known to hold highly valuable or powerful items, widely enough that multiple patrons would seek to hire delvers. The ruins are known to be dangerous; dangerous enough to warrant hiring professionals instead of delving on one’s own.

Another factor I consider when putting a party of NPCs into a dungeon is time. Just how long are they going to be in there? There’s obviously a limit (unless the dungeon is big enough to get lost in), but until the players have some clue they are down there, there probably isn’t any reason to start their clock ticking. For this party, the clock started when the players found their tracks heading down into the Temple Catacombs entrance. After that, they would be leaving the dungeon after a maximum of 1d10+14 days. (If I was stopping time between game sessions, I probably would have made that quite a bit less.) I had them camp in the temple ruins just above, but if the Catacombs had been larger I would probably have had them hole up in an empty room down below. Being professionals, they were fastidious campers who left no glaring evidence. Each day a game session occurred, they had a chance to notice the players, modified by how close the players got to the ruined temple, or how loud and obvious the players’ characters became.

The last question I wanted to answer before they encountered players was “how will they act toward another group of adventurers?” Even though I knew I wanted to come up with one or two basic character traits for each member, I wanted an overall party MO as well. Although their alignments differ individually, on the whole they will work toward good ends, beneficent to most of society and the innocent, and will do their best to limit the amount of chaos caused (or Chaos unleashed) in getting there. Being professionals working on a contract, they will do their best not to reveal their current employer, or what they’ve been hired to retrieve. If they can “foil some evil” without risking their contract, they’ll do it.

Jovaell the Monk

Now it was time for the individuals. The foundation here is that they are not player-characters. Just as I don’t allow players to choose “wyvern” or “bugbear” or “king” for their class, other things players can’t choose are open to NPCs. In essence they are all “monsters,” just like the Druids found in the monster section of the original 3 little brown books of OD&D. Thus, for players “ranger” is just a varied combination of background skill (e.g. the Secondary Skills table, page 12 of the 1e DMG) and flavour, potentially applied to several different character classes. However, for the NPC in this party “ranger” is what type of “monster” he is. He possesses and uses special abilities in the same way any other “monster” does. Since I had chosen an “off-standard” class to base this NPC on, I decided it would be amusing to do that for the other members of the NPC party as well. Thus: assassin, druid, monk, illusionist. 

The next big consideration for the individuals is what their hit dice should be. Again since I knew they were professionals, I decided they would have researched the item they’re after and its location as much as possible. Therefore, they’d be unlikely to be in over their heads in the Temple Catacombs. Other monsters down there included wights, wraiths, several areas where glyphs are set up to summon red slaad, a medusa, and at least one summoned green slaad. 6 to 8 hit dice (9 for the leader) sounded about right, while still making it difficult enough for them to progress so that they wouldn’t end up clearing the dungeon instead of the players. This would also determine things like their available spells and other special abilities.

• Darius Ravenwood, Ranger, 8hd. Jovial and boastful, which interferes with keeping contracts confidential.
• Nabonidas, Assassin, 7hd. Soft-spoken, pleased with himself. The “common peoples’” antics amuse him.
• Tasha, Elf Illusionist, 9hd. The Company Leader. Friendly, but all-business underneath.
• Jovaell, Monk, 6hd. Quiet and introspective. Hard to tell if she’s observing or meditating.
• Cormac O’ Connacht, Druid, 7hd. Old and sort of senile. Prone to confusion and revealing secrets.

I’ll give more details about some of these NPCs later on, as at least one has another function in Anglia. Tasha is one of several possible mentor choices for 1st level magic-users.

The Ultimate Heresy

Bastardising Tolkien

Now, I love both The Hobbit and The Lord of The Rings. The Hobbit, as is popularly stated, makes for a great DnD setting. However, Rings doesn't. The reasons are many, but mostly it's because you either need to pick some point far back in history, or some point after the whole thing. If you pick a point in time during the book, you end up as some minor player on the edge of Important but Precarious Events. If the DM doesn't railroad you, you really end up railroading yourself, one way or another. It's all good for an MMO (I enjoy that game) but sucks for DnD. Oh, and picking a point after the book? There's not much excitement there, since the overarching ultimate pervasive goal of the entire trilogy is to remove the violent dramatic excitement. See, that's a bad setup goal for DnD. You don't want your goal to be Make Things Boring.

So now what? Time to fiddle about. For my purposes, the trilogy is related by Samwise. He is a well-meaning, sentimental, unreliable narrator. He is pretty upset that his best friend died in what turned out to be a boondoggle. Instead of being bitter, he writes a view of what he wishes happened.

The Changes So Far:

Gandalf was a mid-level magic-user, not a divine being. When he bit it in Moria, that was it for him.

Aragorn wasn't really a prince.

Boromir didn't have a noble change of heart at the last second. The Ring was too strong for that.

Throwing the ring into the lava didn't do shit.

Faramir fried in a fire.

20 Questions

I originally posted this a while ago on the Castle Nicodemus devoted blog. I've since decided not to bother with keeping a separate blog for it - kinda dumb. Thus, I'm re-posting it here.


Thanks to Brendan at Untimately! Here are 20 rule questions that are bound to come up at some point, and the way I will answer them for Nicodemus games.

1. Ability scores generation method? 3d6 in order, no adjustments. Str, Int, Wis, Con, Dex, Cha.
2. How are death and dying handled? At zero the player rolls on Trollsmyth's Death & Dismemberment Table. They will keep rolling on it anytime they're hit until they're above zero, usually with a negative modifier the same as their hits.
3. What about raising the dead? No NPC in the area can do it. Try hauling them elsewhere.
4. How are replacement PCs handled? Play an NPC for a while, or roll & arrive.
5. Initiative: individual, group, or something else? Group, 1st round determines all. Chainmail weapon classes determine melee order.
6. Are there critical hits and fumbles? How do they work? Crits yes, on a 20 if you also roll max damage. Fumbles are generally rp'd via imagination and circumstance.
7. Do I get any benefits for wearing a helmet? Can sacrifice for a head crit.
8. Can I hurt my friends if I fire into melee or do something similarly silly? Yes.
9. Will we need to run from some encounters, or will we be able to kill everything? Be willing to run.
10. Level-draining monsters: yes or no? Yes.
11. Are there going to be cases where a failed save results in PC death? Yes. Be smart.
12. How strictly are encumbrance & resources tracked? Usually no big deal. Don't push it.
13. What's required when my PC gains a level? Training? Do I get new spells automatically? Can it happen in the middle of an adventure, or do I have to wait for down time? Gain a level right away. All spells after starters must be found in some way, including within the party. Also counts for clerics.
14. What do I get experience for? Treasure, monsters, carousing, session reports.
15. How are traps located? Description, dice rolling, or some combination? Either works. Description can be more effective.
16. Are retainers encouraged and how does morale work? Yes, OD&D rules.
17. How do I identify magic items? The Gypsy Lady will identify for 250gp.
18. Can I buy magic items? Oh, come on: how about just potions? The Gypsy Lady occasionally has potions for sale.
19. Can I create magic items? When and how? OD&D rules. Can't really be done in the field.
20. What about splitting the party? Caveat emptor

How to Scare Your Players

Because, after all, it really is pointless to try to scare the characters.

It’s a natural function of the human mind to want to understand and classify what it experiences. When a person is unable to do this, they begin to experience anxiety. This, my dear dungeon master, is your goal tonight.

A good example of this is the first Phantasm movie. Perhaps I should say ‘my recollection of the first Phantasm movie,’ because I haven’t seen it in a really long time. During the movie there are a ton of things you don’t know:
What are the silver balls, besides deadly?
What the heck ARE those little short dudes?
Why are they killing people?
What do they want with the bodies?
I found the movie really frightening, probably more frightening than Ringu or Juon, and it had ZERO to do with blood. Probably one of the most frightening I’d ever seen. Compare that with one of the later entries in the series, wherein they explain very fully exactly what the little jawa looking dudes are, where they’re from, and why they want to kill people. It was no longer frightening at all. Not in the least.

My players once encountered a vampire. Like any good vampire, he had a personality and didn’t just pop into a dungeon somewhere. They visited him after being warned not to, because he had information they desperately wanted. I showed them a picture of Emile Zola sitting at his desk. He was charming and helpful, but also very odd. They knew something was up, and they were well on the way to convincing themselves he was a vampire by the time hints started getting laid down during the dinner to which he invited them. They were looking for signs. They had already noticed (because one of them specifically asked, not due to observation roll) there were no mirrors in the parts of the house they’d seen so far. They tried to see his reflection in the silverware, but damned if the candlelight and things on the table prevented them from getting a clear look.

This is when you poke a hole in their attempt to classify and understand.

“Is the silverware actually silver?”
me - “You’re pretty sure it is.”
“Is he touching it? A vampire couldn’t touch it, could he?”
me - “The tales you remember say that silver is very harmful to vampires.” Notice I didn’t say ‘All the tales you’ve heard.’ Introduce as much self-doubt as possible.
[more conversation about the McGuffin, while they stew over clues]
me - “He picks up his spoon and chimes his wine glass with it a couple times. The crystal rings out with a beautiful clear note.”
“A silver spoon?!”
me - “It looks just like yours.”

During dinner, the host (even the players have become reluctant to call him The Vampire now) never quite manages to take a bite of the food or a drink of the wine, due to conversation. At one point he even has food on his fork, but puts it down to talk. Yes, I answer, the food does indeed taste like it might have garlic in it.

The underlying systems have to be clear-cut and well defined. Explained and classified. It’s very important that you know exactly what things are, and why they’re that way. It then becomes your job to always keep this information just out of reach, just barely behind the veil, no matter how much you’d like to share it. Get your players to the point where they are absolutely brimming with questions, and then respond to them.. without answering any of them. At least not for sure, and certainly not a simple yes or no.

Then you hide the source of the anxiety. The master retires for the evening. The device sinks into the wall, and it seals up like it was never there. The children go around a corner and vanish. The wizard disappears in a puff of smoke. After the players have a chance to discuss and explore a bit, it’s now time for some incongruent meaningless hints. Odd noises, strange smells, an odd powder or fluid on the wall/floor/ceiling.. things that might mean anything. To you they should make perfect sense.. to the players they should be vague enough to further a dozen different suspicions without confirming any of them. Repeat until their anxiety peaks, then just after it starts to go down a bit.. HIT EM. The vampire attacks, the portal opens, the spawn of Shub-Niggurath pours out of the spear holes.

The most important thing to remember is that you will be tempted, and that you, the DM, must resist this temptation. You will know all the superawesomeneato details of who the professor is, how the dark ones open the door, and why the madman constructed the box.. but no matter how cool it is, or how proud you are of it, you can’t tell! Shhh!

Happy Halloween, and good luck!