I wasn’t sure what I thought of How We Came To Live Here, by Galileo Games, at first. It certainly wasn’t what I expected it to be. Before receiving my review copy, I really didn’t know anything about the game. I thought it had something to do with telling stories about people who were founding new communities in the wilderness.

As it turns out, How We Came To Live Here is quite a different game. It is a game that draws its inspiration from Native American history and mythology, and has a grounding in both the reality and mundanity of that history, and the fantastical mythological aspects of those peoples’ beliefs. The world of How We Came To Live Here is a fictionalized version of the American Southwest, and the people of the game world (referred to simply as ‘the People’) are a fictionalized chimera of a number of different Native American peoples, primarily the Anasazi. The People live in a great, expansive place, but are beset by Outsiders and monsters, as well as their own human failings and susceptibility to corruption.

This is seems very much to be a game about the juxtaposition of the mundane and the fantastical. Characters must deal with the day-to-day issues of making sure that the community has enough food, that the young People enter into appropriate marriages, and that the People get along with others in the community and in other communities. At the same time, monsters are very real, and are a very real threat. Sorcerers and witches live just outside communities, summoning evil spirits and placing curses on people. The gods are everywhere, and some members of the community can even speak to them, allowing them to see into the future and even let gods and spirits ride their bodies for short periods of time.

The rules system seems robust enough to handle this, but simple enough to learn quickly. The conflict resolution system at its core is used for any conflict, whether it’s an argument, a physical battle, or metaphysically wrestling with an evil spirit, and it is flexible enough to handle all of these things because of its strong narrative focus.

There are two things that stood out to me as a potential limiting factor as far as the mechanics of the game go. The first is that the game uses Fudge dice, and while the book does tell you where you can get them (and you can simply use normal six-sided dice in a pinch), those who don’t own Fudge dice will have to either spend some extra money and time getting them, or get used to reading those d6s a little bit differently.

In either case, this is not a major limitation. The other thing that struck me, however, is that this game requires two GMs. Called the Inside Player and the Outside Player, these two players are responsible for threats originating inside the community and outside the community, respectively, and correspond roughly to the Inside Chief and Outside Chief within the Peoples’ own power structure. Thematically, this mechanic makes a lot of sense and has a nice sense of symmetry. From a purely mechanical perspective, however, I’m not entirely convinced that it’s necessary. Further, not every group has two people willing to take on the responsibility of being a GM, and playing with such a structure will likely take a bit of a shift in your thinking, which may slow things down initially and cause some awkward moments as the Inside Player and Outside Player coordinate. There are a number of optional rules and variants listed in an appendix at the end of the book; it would have been nice if there had been some guidelines on playing the game with a single GM instead of two.

Overall, I can appreciate How We Came To Live Here as both a game and a method of creating compelling fiction. I like the mechanics a lot and, while I wasn’t sure what kinds of stories I’d tell in the world initially, I started to get some ideas the more I read about how the game actually plays out. It should be mentioned, though, that this is not a game for everyone. Some of the themes within the game (particularly the strictly enforced gender roles) might make people uncomfortable, and it might be difficult for some groups to figure out how to play in this world.

Unfortunately, I think that’s the case with me and my group. While I wouldn’t be opposed to trying this game, it’s not on the top of my list of games to try, and I think it would be a very hard sell for my group. It’s pretty different from traditional fantasy, and the game system requires a lot more collaboration and narration than I think my group is really comfortable with. Sadly, I think this might be the case for a lot of groups out there who are used to a steady diet of D&D. That said, I do think there’s a lot to like within this book, and I’d recommend giving it a read at the very least before making any judgments.

I just read a post on Mike’s D&D Blog in which Mike asks for advice on how to remember all of the NPCs in the game that he’s playing in. I think it’s admirable that he’s seeking advice on how to be a better player, and as a DM, I know it can be irksome when my players can’t keep the NPCs straight. This is why I, whenever possible, try to use a technique that Paul Tevis refers to as “Conservation of NPCs”.

The idea is simple. Whenever you’re in need of an NPC to fill a particular role in your adventure or campaign, look at the roster of NPCs that you’ve already introduced. If someone in that roster can potentially fill this new role without breaking verisimilitude, do it. See, if you give your players more opportunities to interact with an NPC, they’re going to develop stronger feelings toward that NPC. If it’s an ally, they’ll grow more attached. If it’s a villain, they’ll start to hate him more. If you introduce a new NPC every time you need an NPC for a particular role, most of your NPCs are going to be throw-aways, and the players won’t care that much about them.

There are some definite benefits to doing things this way. First of all, with fewer important NPCs running around, it’s going to be a lot easier for your players to keep track of them and remember who’s who. Second, if your players get attached to a particular merchant or guard or airship captain, they’re going to respond more quickly and more intensely when he or she is put in danger. Similarly, recurring villains are much more satisfying to defeat than one-shot villains are, and as such the players are much more likely to go to great lengths to bring them down.

I’ve been playing a lot of different games this week, and I’ve got some stuff coming up; I figured I’d give little capsule reviews of what I’ve been doing, and talk a little about some stuff that’s upcoming. In no particular order:

Dead Space: I’m possibly a bit late to the party on this one, but I picked up Dead Space for a really good price around Christmas and just now got around to playing it. I’m not finished with it yet, but I’m eight hours or so into it and I’m really enjoying it. The atmosphere is suitably creepy, and while it doesn’t really create fear (what video game does, really?), it does succeed in creating an awful lot of tension. The fact that the main character, Isaac Clarke, doesn’t speak is a little bit strange considering how much he gets spoken to, especially when you take into account that there’s a character in the game who is supposed to be personally important to Isaac. The game spins a good yarn, though, and the combat is pretty good.

The Humble Indie Bundle: This is a group of indie PC games, for which you can name any price you want, pay it, and get them all. You can choose how much of your money goes toward the developers, and how much goes toward Child’s Play. There are some worthwhile games in the bundle, and while I haven’t liked all of them, I like enough of them that I’m happy I paid for the bundle. Plus, it’s for charity. Go buy it.

Of the games in the bundle, I’ve played World of Goo, which is excellent (I own this on Wii, too). It’s got a great Tim Burton-esque aesthetic, and even has Danny Elfman-esque music, and the puzzling is very, very good. I’ve played about twenty minutes of Aquaria, and I really like what I’ve played. Simple controls but apparently deep gameplay, and the music and art style are fantastic. Gish is sort of a mixed bag; it’s got a really neat premise and some cool mechanics, but the controls are frequently fiddly and annoying, and I feel that the game gets in its own way a lot. Samorost 2 is a Flash-based adventure game that is visually very charming. The problem is that there are a lot of pixel hunts in the game, and some of the puzzles are a little obtuse. Worse, there are puzzles that you can bring almost to completion over the course of a few minutes, screw up one thing (without realizing that you’re doing anything wrong), and have to do the whole thing again, from the beginning. It is very short, though, so you should at least give it a try. The other two, Lugaru and Penumbra: Overture I have yet to spend any real time with.

D&D Encounters: I got to play in Encounters again, and had a blast. I’ve played two different characters so far, both from the Player’s Handbook 3. First I played a human monk, which was very satisfying. I like the monk class quite a lot; very mobile and capable of some pretty spectacular stuff on the battlefield. Flurry of blows is also one of my favorite striker damage-spikes because of its versatility. The second character I played was a longtooth shifter seeker, which was also a lot of fun. I didn’t do a whole lot of damage (I was using a javelin, meaning that all of my attacks dealt 1d6+4 damage, even encounters and dailies), but I really felt like I was effective at controlling the battlefield, and my daily power made a significant difference in how the encounter played out.

My Home Game: My friend Dean isn’t going to be able to DM his mini-campaign for a while, so the campaign I’m DMing is resuming. I’m very excited to get back into the DM’s seat, and I’ve got some stuff planned. I’ll be updating the wiki as we play, as usual, and I’ll probably post some of the more exciting encounters on this blog, for your own use. Game day is the 23rd, which is only a week away!

There’s some talk over at Critical Hits about cursed items, and whether or not they have a place in 4e. Personally, I really like the idea of cursed items, but I’m not a fan of how previous editions handled them. I don’t like items that are just arbitrarily bad and nearly impossible to get rid of; that’s not fun for anyone. What I do like are items that give power for a price.

For my money, these rules work pretty well for modeling cursed items in 4e. I like the idea of magic items that are somewhat more potent than others at their level, but come with a trade-off that could occasionally screw you. However, I’d probably make one change to the way cursed items worked in my own game: I’d make the effect of the curse inextricably tied to the most potent aspect of the item.

I’ve mentioned in the past that I like the idea of aspects in D&D, though the implementation in my own game left something to be desired. I think that cursed items are a perfect place to use aspect-like mechanics; namely, the ‘compel’ action that the GM can use in games like Spirit of the Century. Effectively, the cursed item would have an aspect that could be compelled from time to time by the DM, forcing the player to act in a certain way . . . if he accepts the power that comes with the compel. Here’s an example of what I mean.

The Blood-Soaked Blade
Considered an ill omen by most, the blood-soaked blade demands to be soaked in the blood of the innocent, but grants power in exchange
Lvl 5
1,000 gp
Weapon: Light Blade, Heavy Blade
Critical: +1d6 necrotic damage, or +1d12 necrotic damage if the weapon’s curse is active.
Enhancement: +1 attack rolls and damage rolls
Property: This item gains a +2 item bonus on damage rolls against bloodied targets while the curse is active.
Power (Encounter): Free action. Use this power when you hit with the weapon. The target takes ongoing 5 damage and you can spend a healing surge. This power can only be used while the curse is active.
Curse: The blood-soaked blade demands to be soaked in the blood of the innocent. In order to activate the curse, you must slay a sentient, innocent being. This causes the curse to become active until the start of your next short rest. If, in addition, you spend a short rest (5 minutes) bathing the blade in the innocent’s blood, the curse becomes active until the start of your next extended rest.

In retrospect, the curse on this item bears only a passing resemblance to a true compel, though the idea is the same: do something that the item wants you to do, and you’ll be rewarded. In the case of the blood-soaked blade, you are offered fairly considerable combat prowess (extra damage against bloodied targets, extra crit damage, and an encounter power that deals ongoing damage and heals you), but in order to gain access to any of it, you have to actively engage in an act that is unequivocally evil. If you don’t satisfy the curse, you’ve effectively got a +1 magic sword, and not much else.

If you hand out a weapon like this, try to make sure it falls into the hands of someone with an alignment and personality opposed to to such an act, and tempt the hell out of them. Play up the weapons malevolent influence, suggesting courses of action to the player (in the voice of the weapon) that would allow the player to satisfy the curse. If you really want to put the screws to the player, put them in a situation where those powers would come in really handy, and let them know about the situation beforehand so that they have the opportunity to satisfy the curse.

I’ve been doing some freelance writing lately for Brennan Taylor of Galileo Games. I did some freelance work for him a while back, during the 3rd Edition/d20 era. He had published an RPG called Bulldogs! using the d20 system, and I wrote a psionics supplement for it. Bulldogs! is a sci-fi space opera game. The flavor of the setting is very cool, something a little different from Star Wars. I feel that the d20 system was at odds with the flavor of the setting, though, and Brennan did, too. To that end, he decided to make a 2nd Edition of the game, using FATE as the system for it. He put out a call to freelancers to help him out and, to make a long story short, I’m co-writing the core rulebook with him.

Overall, I feel that FATE is a much better fit for the setting than d20 ever was. While writing the chapter on alien species, it was much easier to capture the flavor of each species using aspects and stunts than it ever was using d20 mechanics, and it’s simpler to boot. Check out the entry for the Ryjyllians from the 1st Edition rules of the game:

Racial Traits
Ability Scores: +2 Strength, -2 Wisdom. Ryjyllians are physically powerful, but they tend to be hotheaded and rash, acting before they think things through.
Special Characteristics:

• Rage: Ryjyllians are able to enter a combat rage. They gain great strength and durability, but lose control of themselves and are less able to defend against attacks. A Ryjyllian in a rage temporarily gains +4 to Strength, +4 to Constitution, and a +2 morale bonus on Will saves, but suffers a -2 penalty to Armor Class. The increase in Constitution raises the Ryjyllian’s hit points by 2 points per level, but these hit points go away at the end of the rage when the Ryjyllian’s Constitution drops back to normal. (These hit points are not lost the way temporary hit points are.) While raging, the Ryjyllian cannot use skills or abilities that require concentration, such as moving silently. He can use any feat he might have except for Expertise, item creation feats, and Skill Focus (if it’s tied to a skill that requires patience or concentration). A fit of rage lasts for a number of rounds equal to 3+ the character’s (newly improved) Constitution modifier. The Ryjyllian may prematurely end the rage voluntarily. At the end of the rage, the Ryjyllian is fatigued (-2 to Strength, -2 to Dexterity, can’t charge or run) for the duration of that encounter. The Ryjyllian can only fly into a rage once per encounter and only a certain number of times per day (his level divided by four). Entering a rage takes no time itself, but the Ryjyllian can only do it during his action, not in response to somebody else’s action. A Ryjyllian can’t, for example, fly into a rage when struck by a blaster in order to get the extra hit points from the increased Constitution, although the extra hit points would be a benefit if he had gone into a rage earlier in the round, before the blaster hit.
• Low-light Vision: Ryjyllians can see twice as far as an Arsubaran in starlight, moonlight, dim light, and similar conditions of poor illumination. They retain the ability to distinguish color and detail under these conditions.
• Claws: All Ryjyllians have retractable claws at the tips of their fingers and toes. In combat, these can be used as weapons, and Ryjyllians are automatically considered to be proficient in their use. The claws deliver 1d4/x2/slashing damage.
• +2 racial bonus to all Climb, Jump, and Move Silently checks. Ryjyllians are cat-like and able to perform athletic feats with little difficulty.
• The Ryjyllian Code of Conduct: Ryjyllians adhere to a strict warrior’s code. They refuse to flee combat, although if ordered to withdraw, the code requires them to observe the command. They must never show fear in the face of danger, but instead challenge it boldly. If challenged to a fight, a Ryjyllian may never refuse. Ryjyllians never use what they consider dirty tricks or deception to win in combat; the fight must be fair to be honorable. The code also requires a Ryjyllian to follow the orders of a superior without question or hesitation, although if ordered to do something that violates the code, the Ryjyllian is likely to commit suicide after he has carried out the order. If a Ryjyllian is ever humiliated in combat, or violates the code by accident, suicide is generally the response. They must make a Will save vs. 20 to break the code.
  Size: Medium. As medium-sized creatures, Ryjyllians have no special bonuses or penalties due to size.
  Speed: Base speed for Ryjyllians is 30 feet.
• Languages: Ryjyllians all begin with the ability to speak both Galactic and Ryjyllac.
• Favored Class: Fighter. A multiclass Ryjyllian’s fighter class does not count when determining whether she suffers an XP penalty for multiclassing. Fighting is the Ryjyllian raison d’etre, and they naturally fall into this profession.

That’s a lot of mechanics to remember. It tells you something about the Ryjyllians as a people, but a lot of that real estate above is devoted to matters of physiology, and relatively little is devoted to things that provide character hooks. Now, compare this to the stats for Ryjyllians in 2nd Edition Bulldogs!. (DISCLAIMER: The following mechanics are not final, and are subject to change.)

Typical Ryjyllian Aspects:
The Ryjyllian Code of Honor
Warrior from a Warrior Race
Loyal to My Clan
Last to Retreat
Cat-Like Reflexes
Short Temper

Typical Ryjyllian Stunts:
Ryjyllian Combat Focus
Some Ryjyllians train in special combat techniques that allow them to enter into a sort of battle trance that inures them to pain and makes them more deadly combatants. Once per session, the Ryjyllian can spend a fate point to enter into this state. While in this state, the Ryjyllian automatically generates one extra shift on any attack roll made to deal stress. In addition, the Ryjyllian gains an additional physical stress box, which can be filled as normal. However, if the extra stress box is filled, when this state ends the Ryjyllian takes an immediate consequence that is one step more severe than it would otherwise be. The Ryjyllian can exit this state at any time; otherwise it lasts until the end of the scene.

There’s a lot less real estate devoted to mechanically explaining what a Ryjyllian is, and almost all of that real estate provides character hooks. Each aspect gives you an idea of what kind of species they are, and even the stunt provides more info than the Rage ability did in 1st Edition.

Furthermore, all of the above is optional when you’re playing a Ryjyllian. In 1st Edition, everything listed was mandatory for your character. This meant that, if you wanted to play a Ryjyllian, you had to deal with all of that complexity, and your Ryjyllian would look a lot like all the other Ryjyllians out there; there was little room for variance outside of class choice. In 2nd Edition, we provide recommended aspects and stunts, but you’re perfectly free to ignore them and come up with your own stuff. We provide a baseline that you can use to start from, but your Ryjyllian is, first and foremost, an individual, and you can build that individual however you want to.

I mentioned a while ago that I read Don’t Rest Your Head, and indie RPG very reminiscent of things like Dark City and Neverwhere (both of which are listed in the book as sources of inspiration). I thoroughly enjoyed reading it.

To sum it up, it’s a game about people who haven’t slept for a while. After a certain point, the theory goes, sleep becomes a choice, and when you choose not to sleep, you awaken to the Mad City around you. The Mad City is a city that exists alongside our own world, and it’s populated by “Hollow Men”, who are basically people who have become automatons, extras in the Mad City, and the Nightmares who rule it. As one of the Awakened, the Nightmares target you, but you have power–drawn from your exhaustion and madness–to fight back.

After reading it, I really wanted to play it, so when my friend Matt agreed to play with me, I jumped on the opportunity. Matt created a character who was already a paranoid schizophrenic–that was, in fact, why he wasn’t sleeping; he was afraid that “they” would come and get him. This become something of a self-fulfilling prophecy, as his Awakening made him a target for a very sinister Them, indeed. He journeyed into the Mad City and tried to figure out what was going on.

Eventually he learned that the one who was after him was a being known as the Tacks Man. He planned to lure the Tacks Man into a trap, using the villain’s well-known greed against him. One of my favorite scenes involved Matt running from Officer Tock and his clockwork cops, carrying a fake hand of King Midas inside a fake stasis machine. He escaped his pursuers, only to run into the Paper Boys. The Paper Boys write about things–murder and mayhem, mostly–and those things have a habit of coming true. They were interested in Matt, but Matt did some fast-talking and convinced them that the hand of Midas was a much bigger story. They took the bait and wrote about the discover of Midas’s hand, at which point the fake became the real thing.

It was a great session, and I’d like to run the game again. The nice thing about DRYH is that it’s really easy to make a game that is almost entirely player-driven. It’s good to go in with a few ideas as the GM, but mostly you’re going to want to look at your players’ characters–their motivations and goals–and use those to generate story hooks that your players will want to run with. The system is simple enough that it facilitates this style of play, making improvisation extremely easy.

I had a great time, and I’d recommend the game to anyone who’s a fan of works like Dark City and Neverwhere.

I’ve been pretty bad about keeping this blog current lately. I’ll make an effort to try not to do that anymore.

At any rate, I just thought I’d post quickly to let everyone know that I’m still alive, and also to talk about what’s been on my mind and what you can expect to see posted on this blog in the next couple of weeks. In no particular order:

1. Steam. I love me some Steam. Steam, for those who are unfamiliar, is a digital video game distribution platform on the PC. Over the holidays they had some killer deals and, as a result, experienced serious growth. Because of this growth (I assume) they’re offering more great deals than ever before. They used to always have a weekend deal, which the still do; now, though, they have mid-week madness, too. Good stuff. Some games that I’ve purchased since the holidays on Steam, some of which you might hear about in more detail later on: Dead Space, Far Cry 2, Freedom Force, Red Faction: Guerrilla, Torchlight, Medieval II: Total War. All for cheap (as in, not one of them was more than $10).

2. D&D, as always. Haven’t played for a while (the last time was in November, I think). I’ve got a game day scheduled for later this month, toward the end, and I’m pretty excited. We’ll probably be wrapping up the current adventure in that session, which will give a friend of mine a chance to step into the DM chair for a little while. Also, if you’ve noticed that the most recent session report is not yet up, you’re very astute. Here’s a cookie. It will be going up soon, don’t worry.

3. Indie RPGs. I recently donated to Haiti through DriveThruRPG and, as a result, got a coupon for a bunch of free RPG PDFs. I got some indie RPGs that I’ve been wanting for a while, including Don’t Rest Your Head, Chronica Feudalis, Full Light Full Steam, Beast Hunters, and 316. I’ve read all of DRYH and played it once (more on that in a future post), and I’m in the process of reading through both Chronica Feudalis and Full Light Full Steam. I’d also like very much to get my hands on a copy of the Mouseguard RPG, but that may not happen for a little while.

4. Other games. I got various and sundry video games for Christmas, some of which you will be hearing about. Expect to hear about Dragon Age: Origins, Left 4 Dead 2, Metroid Prime Trillogy, and The Legend of Zelda: Spirit Tracks, and possibly some others.

I’ve been reading Spirit of the Century recently in preparation for a freelance project that I’m about to start working on, and it’s giving me ideas. Specifically, I’ve been coming up with ways to incorporate some of the ideas and mechanics in Spirit into my regular D&D game. I’ll try to explain this in such a way that people who aren’t familiar with Spirit can still understand what I’m talking about.

Aspects: This is the big one, the obvious one. In Spirit, each character starts with ten aspects; these are words or short phrases that collectively give an overall impression of who the character is. They may be physical characteristics, personality traits, notable quotes, goals, important NPCs, or other, similar things. In addition, players get fate points that they can use to invoke their aspects. Whenever a player makes a roll, he or she can spend a fate point and invoke a relevant aspect in order to get a bonus to the roll after the fact, or re-roll the roll altogether (though the second roll sticks, unless another aspect is invoked and another fate point is spent). You can also tag other peoples’ aspects, which is functionally the same as invoking an aspect except that you’re doing it to someone else’s aspect for your benefit. Finally, the GM can compel an aspect, offering the player a fate point in return for the player acting in accordance with the aspect in question; this typically restricts behavior in some way, and often complicates things for the players.
In D&D: I plan on starting each PC with one aspect from the outset, as well as two aspects that they can choose at a later time, whenever it seems dramatically appropriate. When a player invokes or tags an aspect, it can grant one of three effects. First, it can allow the player to reroll the d20 roll, taking the second result. Second, it can grant a +5 bonus to the roll, after the roll is made but before success or failure is determined. Third, and this is really a very D&D combat-specific use of an aspect, if an d20 roll comes up 18 or higher on the die, an aspect can be invoked to treat it as a natural 20. Compels work in much the same way as described above; there’s really no need to convert.

Declarations: Spirit has a number of skills that can be used for gaining information, such as Academics, Mysteries, Art, or even Burglary. Gaining information is one thing, but players can actually make skill rolls in order to declare facts about a situation. For example, let’s say the players walk into an ancient temple full of traps. A player could say, “According to my extensive knowledge of the history of this temple, I know for a fact that there are numerous secret passages that we can use to our advantage.” The GM then calls for a roll, maybe Academics, and if it’s high enough, the statement is true. In Spirit, this usually means placing an aspect on the scene, one that can be tagged later for the players’ benefit.
In D&D: The knowledge skills (Arcana, Dungeoneering, History, Nature, and Religion) can all be used to make declarations as above. I’d also allow skills like Insight, Perception, or Streetwise to be used to make declarations given sufficient justification or under the right circumstances. Declaration can cause a narrative effect, can place an aspect on the scene or on a person that can be tagged, just like in Spirit, or might create a terrain feature or power that can be used during an encounter. Now, to limit how often this happens, I’d probably cap declaration usage at once per scene per player, a scene being roughly equivalent to an encounter.