While thinking about encounters that are deliberately overpowered, I came up with an idea that I’d like to share. It’s a trick, really; smoke and mirrors. The idea is to use a monster that seems overpowered at first, but to build in vulnerabilities that the PCs can use to turn the tide. It really comes down to a couple of different modifications to a monster to make it work for this kind of encounter.

Find a Tough Monster
Say you’re DMing for a group of heroic-tier PCs; I’ll use my own PCs by way of example, who are currently level 8. The trick is to find a monster that would normally be a little bit out of their level range. This works best with standard or elite monsters, though you could do it with a solo, too. We’ll use an umber hulk, a level 12 elite soldier, as an example.

Modify It
You want to bring the monster down nearer the party’s level (say, level 9 or 10 for the umber hulk), but still make it seem really difficult. You want it to be level-appropriate for three reasons: attack bonuses, damage, and defenses. You want the attack bonuses and defenses to be pretty standard for a monster of its new level because it’s not much fun to fight a monster that hits you every time, but that you keep whiffing against. The damage should be closer to the party’s level, but should still be on the high side, so that the monster feels powerful when it connects.

Next, you want to make it a solo. More hit points and more attacks is what you want. You want this thing to be attacking as many party members as it can during a round (without angling for a TPK), and you want it to be tough. If your creature is already a solo, give it resist all 10, to make it seem that much tougher.

In the case of the umber hulk, we’ll make it a level 9 solo. Its hit points, attack bonuses, and defenses should be appropriate for such a creature, but its damage should only be decreased slightly, if at all. I’d also think about giving it a recharge power in a close burst 1 or 2 that deals claw damage and pushes opponents or knocks them prone (or both).

Build in Vulnerabilities
This is the important part. These are not your standard vulnerabilities, like vulnerable 10 radiant or psychic. These are more like powers that are built into the monster, only they’re powers that the players can use against the monster, instead of powers that the monster uses. Each power should be discoverable with an appropriate knowledge, Perception, or Insight check, and when a power is discovered, you should make sure that the players know that this is a serious vulnerability in the monster’s defenses. You can go as far as handing out power cards for these vulnerabilities, or you can just describe them in the narrative and hope the players catch on.

The trick to these vulnerabilities is that they should require risk, but for a big reward. Requiring the players to ready an action for when they get attacked, or to make skill checks to remain on a monster’s back, or to avoid being trampled while underneath it, are all good. Also note that, if the monster was originally a solo and you gave it resist 10 all, make sure that your monster’s vulnerability attacks bypass that resistance.

By way of example, I’d give the umber hulk the following two vulnerabilities:

Chink in the Armor (move action, at-will) * Weapon, Vulnerability
As part of a move action, you make an Acrobatics or Athletics (DC 20) check to jump on the umber hulk’s back. This provokes an opportunity attack from the umber hulk. While on its back, you can make a weapon attack with any one-handed or light weapon at a +3 bonus with combat advantage (total attack bonus +5); a successful attack deals +10 damage, and the umber hulk is dazed until the start of your next turn. At the beginning of your turn, if you are still on the umber hulk’s back, you must make an Acrobatics or Athletics (DC 20) check to remain on the umber hulk. If you fail, you are thrown off of the umber hulk’s back; you slide 3 squares, are knocked prone, and take appropriate falling damage for the number of squares you slide.

Reflected Gaze (readied standard action, at-will) * Vulnerability
Any character can ready a standard action to use a reflective surface (such as a polished shield or a mirror) to reflect the umber hulk’s gaze back at it; you must be a target of the gaze for this vulnerability to take effect. Doing so is a Dexterity, Intelligence, or Wisdom attack versus the umber hulk’s Will. If you succeed, you negate the effect of the umber hulk’s gaze against you. In addition, the umber hulk takes 2d6+5 and ongoing 10 psychic damage (save ends). If you fail, the umber hulk makes its attack roll against you as normal, with combat advantage.

Play it Up
Remember that this is a level-appropriate version of a very difficult monster. Play up the fact that the monster is shrugging off the players’ blows, and that it’s dealing massive amounts of damage. When they discover and use a vulnerability, play up how effective it is against the monster. Make sure they know that using it is a winning strategy. Hopefully, they’ll be sorely taxed, but they’ll feel like serious bad-asses when they take down something really tough.

So, last night I got a chance to play in D&D Encounters again. I’m playing Yuka, the mul brawling fighter, and I’ve got to say, Yuka really shined in this encounter.

Why did he shine? It was a combination of a couple of different things. First, the encounter took place in a canyon of sorts, surrounded on most sides by twenty-foot-tall bluffs covered in thorny brambles. The enemies could fly from bluff to bluff, and attacked from atop them. Because only a few of the pre-generated PCs have ranged attacks, we had to get a little creative in order to take the fight to the bad guys.

The second reason was the DM. I played with a DM I had never played with, a guy named Andrew (I think; DM, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry if I’ve gotten your name wrong), and Andrew is my kind of DM. The DMGs talk about saying “yes” to your players, and Andrew really takes that advice to heart: if something has the potential to be awesome, he’ll let you try it. And in most cases, it was, indeed, awesome.

We were ambushed by some goblins (I think they were goblins; they were dressed in bone armor that disguised their features, and they may have been some Dark Sun equivalent to goblins, if goblins don’t exist in Dark Sun. I’ll just call them goblins.) and their pet drake. The goblins had flying contraptions strapped to their backs that allowed them to glide from bluff to bluff and the drake could, of course, fly. The combat started with the drake flying overhead, dropping a rope on our supplies, and landing on a nearby bluff. One of the goblins had the other end of the rope, and it was clear that they were going to try to steal our stuff.

The party quickly set out trying to attack the goblins, but I took a slightly different tactic: I picked up the rope and gave it a good, hard yank. The DM liked this idea, gave me an Athletics check (which I succeeded, what with my +9 to Athletics and all), and the goblin was pulled off the bluff and to his death (he was a minion). I then proceeded to use my move action to climb the bluff with the drake at the top, taking an opportunity attack and some damage from the brambles. The drake, however, flew away, back to one of the goblins, so I couldn’t attack it.

However, the goblin passed the drake another rope, so it was clear that they were going to make another attempt on our supplies. As such, I decided to prepare a trap for the drake. I backed up, to give myself a running start, and readied an action. My plan was to wait until the drake was over our supplies, about ten feet from the edge of the bluff, then charge forward, jump, and grab onto the drake. Andrew thought that was awesome, so he let me give it a try. And you know what? I succeeded. I grabbed the startled drake in mid-air, then twisted us as we fell so that I landed on top of the drake, minimizing my damage and maximizing its.

On its turn, the drake tried (and failed) to escape my grab. On my turn, I stood up, got a good hold on the drake, and then spun it around and slammed it into the bramble-covered wall of the nearby bluff. An ally then quickly finished it off.

Later, I spotted an archer on top of a bluff. I climbed a nearby bluff (failing my Athletics roll slightly, my first failed roll so far), and it cost me more movement than I had anticipated. No big deal. I traded my standard for a move to get into position, then spent my action point to charge, jump, and perform a flying tackle on the goblin archer. Andrew liked it and, once again, I pulled it off, knocking him prone, grabbing him, and landing on top of him. On his turn, he tried (and failed) to escape. On my turn, I picked him up, hurled him off the cliff, into the brambles on the side of an adjacent bluff, and that, combined with the falling damage he took when he hit the ground, killed him. Awesome.

At this point there were only two goblins left, both of them curse-chanters of some sort. They were both on the largest bluff, and there was a ten-foot gap between me and them. No problem. I leaped over the gap and, finally, drew my weapon and charged. And missed. Go figure, I finally make a normal weapon attack and I miss. The goblin tried to escape, though, provoking opportunity attacks while flying from both me and the party’s thri-kreen battlemind. We both hit, and because Yuka has Combat Agility, my hit knocked the goblin prone, causing him to fall out of the air and onto the ground below. The fall didn’t kill him, but our ardent did shortly afterward.

The DM, and the party, responded really well to all of my improvised actions. It helps that I only made two bad rolls the entire encounter; trying crazy things and pulling them off definitely encourages you to try crazy things in the future. And you know what? It encourages others to try crazy things, too. At one point, the ardent tried to make a lasso out of the rope and yank one of the goblins off the ledge. She didn’t quite make it, but at least she tried. At another point, the other fighter (also Yuka; we had seven at our table last night), knocked a guy off the cliff with Combat Agility, then used his shift to drop down on top of the enemy. The DM liked it, and ruled that all of Yuka number two’s falling damage would be transferred to the goblin that broke his fall.

It was a great session, and it really highlighted the fact that the system is capable of handling a wide variety of off-the-wall actions, not just what’s contained in your power cards. It also highlighted that, when the DM is inclined to say “yes” to awesome improvised actions, the game becomes more awesome for everybody.

At the end of the night, another player told me that one of his goals as a DM is to become better at handling improvised actions like that. I let him in on a dirty little secret: sometimes, you just let things happen and don’t worry about the rules. If one of my players wants to do something really, really cool, I’ll say, “give it a try, here’s the skill you need to roll.” The secret? Sometimes I don’t care what the result is. With these kinds of actions, sometimes I don’t bother setting a DC beforehand. I wait, I see what the PC rolled, and if it seems high enough, I go with it. Sometimes “high enough” doesn’t need to be all that high, if the action is cool enough. Because really, there’s nothing that takes the wind out of your sails more than trying something really cool and botching the roll. That kind of failure discourages future improvisation, and I’d rather there be more improvisation at the table than less. So, sometimes I hand-wave it.

Gabriel over at Penny Arcade just posted about how he’s made any skill check that his players attempt during combat a minor action. Previously they had mostly been standard actions, and as such had seen little use. After making the switch, he saw a lot more skills being used, and therefore much more interesting and dynamic combat. I heartily commend him for doing so, particularly because it is very similar to what I do in my game. Allow me to expand.

Knowledge checks are any check made to determine something that the character may already know. Do I know what a beholder is? Do I recognize the runes on the floor? Am I aware of the history of this place? These kinds of checks require minimal effort during combat, because the character either already knows the answer, or doesn’t. As such, they’re free actions.

Information gathering checks are basically one step up from knowledge checks, and don’t actually always involve a check. Insight and Perception are the common ones here, but cases can be made for skills like Religion, Arcana, or History, too. Can I try to decipher the magic circle, to determine its purpose? Arcana check. Can I try to suss out my opponent, and see if I can spot a weakness? Insight, or possibly an appropriate knowledge skill, like Nature for a natural beast. These are almost always minor actions, costing the player very little, and possibly giving the player critical information or an edge over the opponent. I like to encourage the use of these kinds of checks, as they spice up combat, drive the story forward, and so forth.

Action checks are checks that you make to actually do something. The type of action varies, from minor to standard, depending on what the player is trying to do. Swing on a chandelier? Acrobatics check, move action. Want to try to say a litany to weaken the demon? Religion check, standard action. My rule of thumb is this: if it’s alternate movement, it’s a move action. If it’s an attack on another creature, it’s standard, unless the effect you’re going for is fairly small (such as a -1 or -2 penalty). If it creates a terrain effect, such as difficult terrain or damaging terrain, it could be any type of action, depending on its scope and power. Difficult terrain over one square would be a minor action, while a blast 3 of difficult terrain would probably be a move action and a blast 5 would be a standard action.

A special note on unusual attacks: I try to reward these whenever they occur, and encourage their use. If someone is going to forgo using one of his powers to try something he’s not sure of, I’m damn sure going to make sure that, if he pulls it off, he’s glad he did. By way of example, in a previous session, my players were fighting off some snaketongue cultists on the roof of the lightning rail, and two of them were archers riding atop wyverns. At one point, the fighter (who has a thing for collecting the teeth of his enemies), wanted to try and rip one of the wyverns’ teeth out while it was still alive, since last one that had died had fallen behind the train (thus making its teeth inaccessible). He was unsure, though, and had almost decided to use one of his at-wills instead, because it was the safe and certain thing to do. I told him: “Do it. I’ll make it worth your while.”

So he did. I handled it as a standard action, Strength attack against the wyvern’s Fortitude. I allowed the hit to deal his normal amount of damage (1d10+Str), and told him that the wyvern was dazed until the end of his next turn from the pain, and that it would be marked by him for the rest of the encounter, and that no mark would be able to supersede his mark. Because he gambled on an uncertain attack, I made sure that a successful attack with an improvised (but very cool and thematically appropriate) technique was better than the at-will he would have used instead, probably more on par with an encounter power. And you know what? It was a great moment.

Also, a note on terrain powers. It’s great to include terrain powers in your encounter, but if your players don’t know they’re there, they’re not going to use them. Initially, you’re probably going to have to hit them over the head with your terrain powers, to some extent. What I do is I print up cards for the terrain powers that I’m including, and I include them in the monsters’ stat blocks where it makes sense. That way, the players see the monsters using them, so they start looking for terrain powers to use against the monsters. Once they discover them, I give them the cards so they know exactly what the power will do. I find that players are more likely to use the environment when it’s more of a known quantity.

I’ve heard about people encouraging the use of terrain powers by making them all minor actions, even the attacks. That works for some people, and that’s great; it just doesn’t sit well with me, for some reason. Instead, I make sure that the terrain powers that are standard actions are potent enough that they’re worth using, and I make sure the players know that. What I’ve found, and what you may find if you do the same thing, is that players start coming up with their own terrain powers and alternate actions. And really, that’s the goal.

As I mentioned in my previous post, I tailor the world for the PCs, but that doesn’t mean that all the fights are winnable as straight-up fights. What this means is that, sometimes I put a monster in their way that’s too hard for them. But if I do so, I try to be clear with them (without just coming out and saying it, of course) that the point of this encounter is not to simply kill this monster (which they likely can’t yet). I give them an alternative goal, and the monster simply becomes incredibly dangerous and tense window dressing for an encounter that’s really about something else entirely.

I also want to talk about monsters of high levels living in the world by saying simply this: levels are an abstraction. Nobody in the world knows what level a beholder should be; they just know that it’s an incredibly powerful creature that only the bravest and most capable adventurers would dare go up against. If your players want to go off and fight that beholder in the cave over there–-you know, the one you warned them about and tried to tell them, subtly, not to fight–-and you have the opportunity to design the encounter, then ask yourself this question: do I want a TPK here, just to teach my players a lesson? If they answer is yes, then fine. It’s not what I would do, personally, but to each their own. If you don’t want to derail your game to teach your players a lesson, then make the encounter winnable. It doesn’t need to be easy, and it should be scary. Maybe the players will have to discover some trick of the environment before they really have a fighting chance, but at least give them that fighting chance.

Failing that, give them an out. Allow them to fight the thing, allow them to see that they’re out-gunned, and show them how they can escape with their hides. Maybe there’s some cost associated with this escape: they have to sacrifice a beloved NPC or mount or pet or piece of gear.

My point is: use too-powerful monsters in the world if you want, to add verisimilitude. Tell the players about them, and tell them they’re not quite powerful enough to fight them yet. But do so at your own risk. Levels are a game construct, and mean nothing within the narrative. Without breaking immersion, how do you tell your players that they’re simply not high enough level yet? How do they know? They may decide, after a series of decisive wins, that they’re feeling powerful enough to take that dragon or beholder on. You’ve warned them, but they want to anyway. The thing to remember is that this is just as much their game as it is yours, and if they’re telling you what’s interesting and fun for them, it’s your responsibility as a DM to pick up their cues and make it fun for everyone, even if they wind up taking a thumping. Because really, a TPK isn’t much fun for anyone.

Here are your blog carnival rules:

1. Your post must be on topic.

2. The first person in the list of bloggers who are participating who replies to each post will be responsible for writing the next piece. (Don’t reply if you are not ready to write it with in the next 24 hours.)

3. You must add a link to all of the previous authors carnival posts at the end of your post.

4. No name calling.

The question seems to be: do you include encounters in your game that are designed to be more powerful than the PCs can handle.

The answer is: it’s funny you should mention that.

To any of my players reading this post: stop it. Unless you want some spoilers.

In an upcoming session, I have some encounters planned that are, in fact, designed to be too difficult for the players to take head-on. That is, even if the PCs succeed in what they’re supposed to be succeeding at, the bad guys aren’t going to get beaten, and it’ll probably feel a bit like a loss. Specific story spoilers ahead. You’ve been warned, guys.

My players have an airship. Soon, they’re going to be flying that airship into a land that is rough, unforgiving, and very much a frontier territory. There’s lots of nasty monsters in this area, and they’re going to get a first-hand look at this. First, the airship is going to get attacked by a mated pair of young blue dragons, intent on taking the airship and all valuables from the PCs. My PCs are level 8, and while these dragons are only level 6, there’s two of them, and they’re both solos. It’s a hard encounter, made harder by the fact that the dragons are going to be trying to throw people off the ship and, eventually, damage the ship out of spite when they decide that the PCs are more trouble than they’re worth. I’m pretty sure that the PCs won’t kill even one of these dragons, and at best they’re going to fend them off before the airship is completely torn to pieces.

Once they crash land, they’ll get a little bit of a breather before an enraged dire bullette attacks the group. As I’ve said, these are level 8 PCs, and this bullette is level 15, way above their pay grade. It’s got an AC around 35, which is pretty high for players of that level. This is not a fight they’re supposed to win. Instead, they’re supposed to draw the bullette’s attention away from the wreck and their less powerful allies so that their allies can escape, get to town, get medical attention, and get supplies to come back and fix the ship. Once they have the bullette’s attention, they’re going to have to lead it away from the ship and lose it.

So, yes, I guess I do have fights that cannot be won through combat alone. But that doesn’t mean I’m setting my players up for failure. I have a secret, you see: these fights, while they have real monsters with real statistics making real attacks and with real hit points and defenses, aren’t really fights. Both of these ‘combats’ are structured as skill challenges, and neither has the goal of the enemy’s defeat. In the fight against the dragons, the goal is simply to drive them away and survive their attacks. With the bullette, they have to get its attention, then lose its attention.

This is an idea I’ve started experimenting with: fights that aren’t really fights. I think that this is probably a really good way to handle fights that are too difficult for the PCs. It gives the PCs something to do besides whiffing against defenses that are too high and taking massive amounts of damage. It gives the PCs a definite goal. Best of all, even though the PCs may not feel like they’re ‘winning’ the fights, they’ll likely still feel a sense of accomplishment at the end, even if they just barely got away by the skin of their teeth.

So, how do you handle fights like this? Do you even include them?

Other posts in this blog carnival:
never fear! sandbox vs. safety rails.
Phelanar’s Den
The Daily Encounter
Dkarr
Adam Dray
Sarah Darkmagic

There’s a post over at RPG Musings about using betrayal as a major plot device in a D&D game.

Betrayal is often used as a hook in fiction, and it works well there because the author has total control over the characters involved, and the only one being surprised is the reader. In D&D, though, you have to tread very carefully if you’re going to use betrayal. The problem with betrayal in D&D is that, if handled incorrectly, the players might feel betrayed or hoodwinked by you, the DM, and that’s never good. Even if handled correctly, it may have the desired effect in the short term, but the long-term ramifications are going to be that the players will be far less likely to trust anyone, PC or NPC, which can have a number of negative effects on the campaign.

First, you’re probably not going to be able to use betrayal as a hook again for quite some time. Fool me once, et cetera. Second, if the PCs are constantly second-guessing each other, it may occasionally lead to great role-playing scenes, but more often than not it’s probably just going to bog down the game and slow things down. Third, if the players are unlikely to trust any of the important NPCs you introduce for fear that they’ll be betrayed, you’re going to have a really hard time getting them to become attached to or invested in any of your NPCs, which can make it hard to motivate them to go on any of your adventures. This, I think, is the biggest issue.

To mitigate some of this, I’d be inclined to be upfront with the players about the possibility of betrayal. When they’re write up their dark secrets, tell them that these secrets might lead to one of the PCs betraying the others. Tell them that this might lead to one of their characters becoming a major campaign villain. This will solve two problems. First, it’ll soften the blow of the betrayal a little bit, but maintain the surprise to a degree. The players will likely take the betrayal in the spirit in which it’s intended (as an interesting plot device), rather than feeling hoodwinked and betrayed themselves. Second, it’ll prepare them for the idea that their characters might leave the story early and become a villain, prompting them to play a new one for a while. After all, if you’ve spent ten or fifteen levels developing and growing attached to a character, and the DM comes to you and tells you he’d like to make that character a villain, how are you going to feel if you didn’t see that coming?

Now, I’ll be the first to admit that this technique isn’t going to solve all the problems inherent in using betrayal as a major plot device. For this reason, I try to use betrayal extremely sparingly, I try to restrict it to the NPCs, and I try to drop a hint or two, so that the players at least have a chance of figuring it out, and so that it’s not such a “gotcha” moment.

These condition cards are pretty awesome. They list everything, they’re fun, and they’re a great reminder. I might wind up using them at my next game. My only concern: maybe there are too many cards at my table. We’ll see, I guess.

Okay, where did I leave off? I believe I covered New Orleans, yes? We left New Orleans by car, the plan being that we’ll road-trip back home in order to see some of the South on the way. The driving has been pretty boring for the most part, although some of the early driving on the first day was nice. We took a scenic route along the coast, which allowed us to see some nice beaches and water, and some beach-town scenery.

Our first stop was Montgomery, Alabama. We got there too late to tour the inside of any of the buildings that we checked out, unfortunately. We saw the state capitol, the Baptist church where Dr. Martin Luther King was minister for a few years, the civil rights memorial, and the first White House of the Confederacy. Aside from that, there really wasn’t much to see in Montgomery, and there were even fewer places to eat. We wound up eating at a seafood place across the street from the hotel; it was effectively an Applebee’s or TGI Friday’s, but for seafood.

Our second stop was a lot more interesting: Savannah, Georgia. Savannah is a fairly large town, with lots to see and do, but it retains a lot of its small town charm. Things seem to move a bit slower there (though that might have been because we were on vacation). There are parks everywhere, lots of very beautiful churches, great architecture, and plenty of great restaurants. We saw the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist, the market square, Forsythe Park, and “The Book”, a souvenir store dedicated to Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, the novel that popularized Savannah. On the last day we stopped by Bonaventure Cemetery, which was pretty breathtaking.

We’re now in Raleigh, North Carolina. This is basically just a stop-over; there’s nothing specific that we came here to see. Our next stop will be in Williamsburg, Virginia (where I used to live), where we plan on seeing all the cool Colonial Williamsburg stuff. Unfortunately, I don’t think we’ll have time to do Busch Gardens.

At any rate, if you’d like some pictures to go with these words (one being worth one thousand, and all), go check out my wife’s Flickr album dedicated to our road trip.

It should come as no surprise to anyone that there are lots of great places to eat (and drink) in New Orleans. I’d like to take this time to talk about some of the places we ate while here.

Palace Cafe
This was our first exposure to New Orleans cuisine. We went there for lunch, a time that was (unexpectedly, they say) very busy. We had to wait about fifteen minutes to be seated (and someone who came in after us got seated before us, which was a little irksome), but the food was well worth the wait. I had a very fancy version of pork and beans: pork tenderloin with a sort of sweet and spicy bean and slaw mix that was fantastic and both rich and light at the same time. The food was a little bit pricey, but very good.

Bourbon House
Situated right on Bourbon Street, right across from dive bars and sex shops, Bourbon House is an upscale restaurant with excellent food at reasonable prices. We followed a seafood motif, getting a dozen raw oysters (extremely fresh, and very good), a tuna sampler (the blackened tuna was the least impressive, though it was still good, while the tuna carpaccio was my favorite), and a couple of bowls of very good seafood gumbo. Bourbon House also, perhaps unsurprisingly, has a rather large selection of bourbons. I tried one (though I can’t remember the name), and have decided that I like bourbon quite a bit.

PJ’s Coffee
PJ’s was voted the best coffee in New Orleans, though I can’t for the life of me understand why. I ordered iced coffee–just simple iced coffee, no sweaters or flavors requested–and got hazelnut iced coffee. As someone who does not, as a rule, like flavored coffee, this was pretty disappointing. Not only that, but the coffee was extremely sour; I have a feeling that, even had the coffee not been flavored, it would not have been that good. PJ’s, to me, came off as a poor imitation of Starbucks.

Grand Isle
We went here for lunch on Saturday because it was very close to the hotel. It was also, luckily, very good. I got a crawfish etoufee that was fantastic. The service was also good, and our waitress was extremely friendly and helpful.

Crazy Lobster
This was our dinner spot after a long day of walking. I had jambalaya, and was impressed by it. The service was a little slow, and my wife was not that happy with her shrimp creole (I had it for lunch the next day, and enjoyed it).

River’s Edge
Right on Decatur Street in the French Quarter, River’s Edge is a bit of a dive whose main advantage is the fact that it’s right across the street from Cafe du Monde. I got blackened Cajun ribs which, while they tasted pretty good, were about as far from tender as ribs can get. The fries were interesting, but tasted a little like they might have been cooked in oil that should have been thrown out a few hours ago. My wife, however, said that the seafood gumbo she got there was the best gumbo she had during our trip here (she still thinks so).

Cafe du Monde
Great coffee (much better than PJ’s), and beignets. What can I say about beignets? The closest analog we have up north is funnel cake, and there are some similarities; they are both effectively deep-fried dough with powdered sugar on top. If you come to New Orleans, you really need to end at least one day with a plate of beignets and a cafe au lait (both specialties of Cafe du Monde).

The World Famous Gumbo Pot
We both had gumbo here (surprise, surprise). My wife had seafood gumbo, while I had duck and andouille gumbo. Quick service, good gumbo, good prices. Not exceptional, but good.

Stanley
Caddy-corner to the cathedral, Stanley was a fantastic find. They mostly have breakfasts and sandwiches, and the menu is concise, but what they do they do very, very well. I had a giant burger topped with bacon, mustard, and Stanley’s special sauce, and it was, perhaps, the best burger I’ve ever had. My wife had an omelet sandwich, and it was also fantastic. We topped it off with two scoops of mango sorbet (made on-site), which was, predictably, fantastic. If you come to New Orleans, eat here. You owe it to yourself.

Something that happens in New Orleans that you may not expect: daily thunderstorms. At least, that’s what happens in the summer. It’s advisable to carry an umbrella if you’re going to be out for any length of time in the afternoon, but luckily these storms tend to the short side, and can often just be waited out.

Currently, we’re on our way to the French Quarter, umbrella in tow, to find some dinner and shopping. I’ll let you know how it goes.