Showing posts with label Theory. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Theory. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 29, 2023

Notes on OSR-style social challenges

We know that rolling ability tests or skill checks for social situations is an ill-considered way to resolve social situations because it stops players from thinking—it turns a strategic challenge into a dice roll.

That being said, having no procedure for dealing with social challenges could lead to a lot of circuitous and time-consuming back-and-forthing between the players and the DM until it is decided that the situation is resolved either favorably or unfavorably for the players. Relying on DM fiat is fine in a lot of circumstances but too much can lead to decisions that feel arbitrary—the DM either lets the players do what they want, in which case they can feel like they are getting away with something, or not, in which case they can feel like the DM is being hard and punitive. 

The reaction roll does a good job of providing a simple mechanic for social challenges. The offer refused+lowered standing/offer refused/unsure/offer accepted/offer accepted+added benefit dynamic complements the 2d6 probability spread well. 

But what about the actual challenge? 

The obvious answer: PCs should to be able to do something gain additional bonuses to the roll. What Arnold K. brought up some months back in his post on parleying can be applied to all forms of social interaction where the desires of the PCs and the NPCs are different. Adding a goal, value, or motivation to an otherwise one-note NPC not only makes the world seem more vivid etc. but more importantly gives the character something the PCs can latch on to and use in negotiation. 

I'd only want to do this if the players are going to want something from an NPC that they are not necessarily willing to offer. You don't want to add texture to every NPC for the same reason you wouldn't want every supporting character in a book or movie to have a full backstory and character arc—it adds a lot of extraneous detail that pulls focus away the important parts.

The game turns into a playacting slogathon if every pre-dungeon supply run involves stilted RP with a shopkeeper. Feeling like you need to fully roleplay every conversation the PCs have is a mistake a lot of newer DMs run into, but really you only need to zoom in on the things that actually provide engaging gameplay. 

If, for example, the PCs have a fake gem or conspicuous stolen art piece they are trying to dupe someone into buying, considering the identity of the NPC and what they value suddenly becomes more important. Are they religious, and thus more willing to trust people of similar faith? Do they like to drink perhaps a bit too much, and thus  inclined to be genial with someone who takes them out for a beer? Instead of just having a flat chance of the object getting identified, there is now a way for the players to strategize a method of maximizing their chances for the shopkeeper in question to agree to buy the thing. 

Of course, these features would need to be telegraphed. The shopkeeper has to be seen displaying a holy symbol or acting a bit buzzed before the players can know how to game them. 

This is the kernel of a social challenge: the PCs want something from an NPC; the NPC in the way of what they want has a discernible characteristic, and it's up to the players to identify and exploit that characteristic to gain the NPC's favor. Bonuses to the reaction roll could range from +1 to +3 depending on how much the players invest into their efforts.

Brainstorming a couple NPC values + ways to telegraph them:

1. Romance. Flirts unabashedly with the prettiest member of the party. 

2. Kindness. Mopey and dejected. Perks up at the slightest compliment.

3. Booze. Heavy eyelids, slurred speech, periodically pulls from a flask.

4. Faith. Casually recites lines of scripture. Wears a holy symbol and/or has one prominently displayed somewhere. 

5. Flattery. Loud and boastful. Demands to be called "sir" or "madam" or by some other official-sounding title. 

6. Status. Snooty social climber. Gaudy clothes, always gossiping, directs attention to the most important-seeming person in the room.  

7. Company. Quiet and sullen at first, but will launch into an animated conversation at first opportunity.  

8. Niche interest. Conspicuously displays their fixation (garish hats, porcelain dolls, painted tortoises, etc.).  

9. Process. Surrounded by piles of forms and paperwork; constantly refers to various rules and regulations; fervent adherence to the strictures of exhaustive bureaucracy. 

10. Relief. Currently burdened by some misfortune like a stolen heirloom, sullied reputation, blood feud, weird curse, etc. made obvious to the PCs.

Obviously not an exhaustive list. The point is to give something the players can see that makes them think "hmm maybe that's something we can exploit." 

These sorts of desires/values can stay general or become really specific as the situation demands. More challenging social challenges would necessitate more specific values. Perhaps the only thing the high slayer of the headsman's guild values more than duty is his beloved golden python he keeps as a pet, hidden somewhere in his watchtower lair. Good luck figuring that one out.  

This post from Was It Likely? provides another great option (by way of this post from To Distant Lands)  for creating NPCs with motives and desires that have fuck-all to do with the PCs. Allow them to permeate and enrich your mental ecosystem. 

What are social challenges for?

Like traps, puzzles, and monsters, social challenges should act as an obstacle between the PCs and their goal (which is in most cases treasure, but y'know not always). Social challenges fit nicely in areas where traps and monsters aren't appropriate, like in settlements, or when you want to add more variety to an otherwise challenge-rich environment.

While combat and puzzles can contribute to the adventuresome spirit of the game, social challenges are in many cases better suited for practicality. When the players want something that shouldn't be too easy to accomplish, popping in an NPC that tells them "no" can often be all you need in the way of an obstacle.

Of course, the PCs could always just choose not to engage and just be like "Hey, you should let us pass we're friendly and you can trust us," in which case just a flat reaction roll would work. But an additional dimension to an NPC opens up new avenues for the players, similar to how more detailed and interactive elements in a combat encounter give the PCs more things to play around with. Not to mention they could always resort to violence or magic or whatever. 

I find that players are less like to take the mercenary/murderhobo approach to dealing with NPCs when they are given another option to deal with them. Like Arnold's example in the post linked above, it's no wonder players would default to killing every guard that gets in their way if every one is perfectly disciplined and unable to be bribed, intimidated, or otherwise convinced. But give a PC a reason to get shitfaced with one and they'll take it, 9 times out of 10. 

Art by Max Ernst, an eminently D&Dable surrealist.

Thursday, June 29, 2023

Conflict-forward factions

Most advice on how to design factions can usually can be summarized as “[group] wants [goal], but [complication]; fill in the gaps.” This is a solid and fast way of getting ideas down for groups but I find that it, at least when making factions for a full campaign as opposed to a dungeon or adventure locale, it's largely left up to the DM to come up with compelling interplay— the most important part and, as is often the case, the hardest to do on your own. What this method lacks is a way of organizing the factions within a larger framework or scenario for the players will contend with. 

What I suggest instead is a way to think about faction creation that starts with the overarching circumstances the factions exist within and working outward from there in order to build out how the figurative position each faction occupies in those circumstances and thus in turn the potential energy of how they might play off one another (once the players get involved). 
清已

So where to begin? Conflict. Conflict is always compelling because it gives rise to change, which gives rise to opportunity. It creates an instability or tension from which could arise any number of new or unpredictable scenarios. Because of that, compelling factions ought to be in involved in conflict. Instead of coming up with the factions first and figuring out why they hate each other, it's more productive to start with the conflict itself. Working from a blank slate, that means identifying a scenario characterized by instability (the root of conflict) and designating factions based on different positions a group can take relative to the resulting tension. 

There's no hard-and-fast rule for this but generally instability appears in the interim between when one paradigm declines and another is ascendant, or when something big and consequential happens unexpectedly. 

A great example of a sandbox adventure that takes full advantage of instability is Better Than Any Man, probably the best thing to come from LotFP. You have the foreground circumstances of the magic strangeness going on in town (instability) coupled with the emergence of a mysterious cult (more instability), as a war in the backdrop (but wait!), with the looming threat of the Swedes (there's more!). Interweaving layers of conflict form a beautiful tapestry of mayhem. I also did something similar in The Cerulean Valley, my never-before-plugged adventure in noisms' sensational zine In the Hall of the Third Blue Wizard vol. 1. Check it out. 

Here's what it looks like building this from the ground up. The situation: 

A few years back, a cruel warlord invaded a thriving city-state, slew the aging king, and installed himself as the city's Overlord. 

Given that this is a city locale, we'll take the bog-standard D&D city fixtures to become our factions: nobles, wizard's guild, church, and thieve's guild. We're also going to have the Overlord and his agents as their own faction, since they make up one pole of the conflict. 

Once the factions are decided, it's time to identify different ways a group can perceive the circumstance they're in, based on what hardships and what opportunities this tension offers a given faction. Or even more simply, just thinking of what different perspectives would be appropriate in this scenario. In its most basic form there are the two sides to the conflict, the old thing at the new thing, and a handful of groups that seek to exploit the conflict for their own gain—one who wants to swoop in when both are weak, one who wants to side with the whoever has the most to offer them, one who wants to prolong the conflict and maximize chaos, and so on. 

First is the Overlord and his agents. Perhaps they have insinuated themselves into the cities municipal and trade bureaucracies and now control the city’s commerce and the rule of law. They're the ones in charge, but the transition has been rough and their hold over the city is tenuous at best. 

Opposed to them are the noble families, who have been allowed to maintain a diminished stature in exchange for their deference to the Overlord. Some are content and try to make the most of the situation, but by and large the nobility are against the new regime and look for any opportunity to undermine the Overlord and return things to semblance of the way they were before. 

A powerful group indifferent to either side is the magicians’ Collegium, a loose conglomerate of magic-users sanctioned by the city-state. The Collegium was formed generations ago to allow magic-users to collaborate and work as they please in exchange for agreeing to keep civic disturbances within a manageable threshold and come to the city-state’s aid in times of need. The agreement has remained unchanged in the new regime. The Collegium typically wants everyone to fuck off and leave them to their business, yet given that the institution possesses massive power that can only marginally be controlled by politics, they have much to offer both the Overlord and the royalists. While they're tentatively willing to support whoever has the most to offer them, they're more interested in suppressing both sides and sweeping as much influence as they can. 

The faction who wants to side with the group with the most influence is the Church. Already a fossilized institution before the new regime, their relevance has only further declined since the Overlord has little interest in preserving the traditions and observances that were at least nominally upheld under the king. Still, the Church has the power of divinity on their side. Within the vast catacombs beneath the great cathedral are secrets of immense consequence, forgotten by all save for their holy custodians, granting them a not-insignificant amount of leverage. The Church hopes to reclaim its influence by siding with whoever has the upper hand, both in the hopes of bringing an end to the conflict and also to curry as much favor as possible with whoever comes out on top. 

And the group that thrives in the turmoil and wants to prolong it for as long as possible is the thieves' guild, or maybe the local serpent cult or whatever you should get the idea by now. 

So here we have an idea of not just what each faction is and what they want, but also how each faction’s respective want ties into a larger overarching theme. Potential conflicts and factional moves can emerge from this organically, while allowing it all to stay focused around a larger tension. Of course, you can have a bunch of factions with disparate goals (ie the magic-users want magic artifacts, the thieves' guild wants money, the church wants adherents, etc.) but organizing the factions from the center outward like this provides you with an organizing framework to more easily build adventures.