RickFest Secundus 2012

Thursday was RickFest Primus, and I’ve had a couple days to unwind, clean up, and prepare for tomorrow. Tomorrow, of course is RickFest Secundus, the day for larger, longer games.

Primus was great. Nearly twenty people overall showed up at various times, with the height being thirteen ((Thirteen people kind of fit in my living room, as long as you count me standing in the dining area and Melly sitting on the floor. I’ve been doing some looking for a place to rent next year to accommodate the crowd. It looks eminently doable.))  for a big game of Cards Against Humanity. Folks started showing up around 1:00 in the afternoon, and the last of the gang left around 11:30. In that time, I got to play in ten games, so I count that as a win. Also, people seemed to have fun.

My plan for limiting the day to shorter games had the desired effect: everyone who stopped by got to play in at least one game, and didn’t spend too long just sitting around waiting for stuff to wrap up before new games started.

Secundus starts at noon ((Realistically, it starts whenever people show up and want to game, but I’m not letting anyone in until noon.)), and again runs until the last people leave. Some of the games on offer tomorrow:

  • Arkham Horror
  • War of the Ring
  • Battlestar Galactica
  • Conquest of Nerath
  • Risk: Legacy
  • Leverage RPG
  • Marvel Heroic Roleplaying
  • Apocalypse World
  • Dungeon World
  • tremulus
  • Durance
  • Monsterhearts
  • Fiasco
  • Mansions of Madness
  • Betrayal at the House on the Hill

All of these are in addition to any of the shorter games folks want to play, either instead of a long game or while waiting for a game to wrap and a new one to begin.

So, another full day of gaming. Looking forward to it.

 

RickFest Primus 2012

The past few years, it’s got to be a sort of tradition that, one day between Christmas and New Year’s Eve, I have an open house where all my friends drop in and play games all day. I’ve started calling RickFest because I’m just that big a nerd. Over the years, though, a bit of a complication has popped up: some people come to play the big games – Arkham Horror, for example – and some people come to play the small games – stuff like Carcassonne or Tsuro. That means that, if I’m involved in a big game when new people show up, it’s a little difficult to break away and get them up and running in another game, so I wind up half-ignoring some of my guests.

This year, I’ve decided to address that by splitting RickFest into Primus and Secondus. RickFest Primus is tomorrow, and will feature the short games, and RickFest Secondus is on Sunday, featuring the longer games. Everyone’s invited to both, but by setting the expectations, I’m hoping to maximize the fun for everyone ((And the divisions are not hard-and-fast rules. If everyone wants to play a long game at Primus, or some people want to play a short game at Secondus, I’m not about to say no, am I?)).

Oh, and there’s also lots of food and beverages, rowdy camaraderie, and plenty of bad, bad puns. And the joy of seeing how many people I can cram into my apartment ((The guest list has been growing every year. Honestly, if it gets much bigger, I may have to look at renting a community centre hall or something.)) .

I’ve got most of the shopping done – just need to make a quick run tomorrow morning for some ice for the cooler and a nine-volt battery ((Don’t ask.)) – and have a little bit of food prep to do tonight – finishing a cheese ball and making some more spiced pecans and some pepperjack cornbread. And then I spend the evening sorting out games. Here’s a partial list of what’s on offer, game-wise:

  • Tsuro
  • Tsuro of the Seas
  • Pandemic
  • Legend of Driz’zt
  • Wrath of Ashardalon
  • Escape from the Aliens in Outer Space
  • Fiasco
  • Deluxe Illuminati
  • Fury of Dracula
  • The Stars are Right
  • Dominion
  • B-Movie Card Games
  • Carcassonne
  • Chrononauts
  • Zombie Dice
  • Cthulhu Dice
  • Beowulf the Legend
  • Elder Sign
  • Dixit
  • Cards Against Humanity

Obviously, we’re not going to get to play them all but we’re gonna play as many of them as look like fun. I open my doors and noon, and close them after the bovine repatriation ((That is, we play until the cows come home.)). Then I get two days to recover before we do it all over again.

RickFest Primus is tomorrow. Game on.

Looking Forward to the Coming Apocalypse

After I wrapped up my Armitage Files game and my Feints & Gambits game, I took about a month off from running games and rethought the way I wanted to do things. I decided that I wanted to run smaller, shorter games – things that wrap up in a few months rather than a few years. I figure I can run two games at a given time ((Plus the Storm Point game.)) without burning out on them, so once I got the Civil War game up and running properly, I started looking for the next game I was going to run.

I’d been intrigued by Apocalypse World ever since I read it a couple of years ago. But I was also pretty intimidated by it – the constraints it places on the MC ((Apocalypse World  speak for the GM.)) are real game-changers ((Ha! See what I did there?)), and run pretty much counter to the way I learned to run games. There are two specific things that are very different:

  • MCs do not roll dice. All the rolls are done by the players, and the MC just reacts to the rolls. This is such a strange idea to me that it feels like cheating – a player flubs a roll, and I just get to inflict damage on the character? I don’t need to make a to-hit roll? Man, it feels like I’m getting away with something.
  • MCs are not supposed to create adventure storylines. Stories are supposed to emerge from the interplay of the characters and the environment ((Much of which is created on the fly.)) in an organic manner. Now, the MC can create threats and issues for the the characters to interact with – called fronts in the game – but should not be pushing for a specific type of interaction or outcome. It’s seems like a recipe for boredom, but the advocates of the system say not ((Of course, I’ve done a fair bit of this kind of thing with the Armitage Files game, but I was far more familiar with the Cthulhoid stuff, so it was easier for me to riff on themes that I already had in my brain. I’m not as up on the post-apocalyptic stuff, especially considering I don’t know what the world’s gonna look like. I want the players to determine that during the first session.)).

A lot of my worry was relieved this year at GenCon, when I was able to try out the game at Games on Demand. Trevis ran us through character creation and a short game that really opened my eyes to the way the system works and all the possibilities it opens up.

And it was fun.

So I decided to run Apocalypse World  as my next game. I put together an invitation, sent it out to my gaming group ((I’ve got about sixteen or so people in my extended gaming group. No one game can accommodate everyone.)), putting the cap on the group at five, with a minimum of two players. Within twenty-four hours, I had five players, but lost one due to scheduling conflicts. I opened up the recruitment for one more day, but no one else jumped in, so we’re set to begin play with four players.

I sent each of them a set of the available playbooks to pick from, but warned them not to go too far with character creation, which we will be doing at the first session. Still, they’ve made some choices about what they’d like to play:

  • Michael is looking at playing either the Touchstone or the Quarantine.
  • Sandy is considering the Hoarder.
  • Elliot has fixed on the Gunlugger.
  • Chris has chosen the Savvyhead.

And my brain is whirling with half-formed potential ideas for the game, but I can’t do anything with them, because we don’t have any details of the world worked out, and we won’t until the game starts and the players start helping with that bit. Y’know, the whole bit about asking provocative questions and stuff.

So, I’m finding it a little frustrating not being able to do any of my usual prep for the game. I’m reading and re-reading the Apocalypse World rules, and looking at the various playsheets, but I can’t start creating NPCs or describing the environment or plotting  big threats or anything like that, because that’s not how the game works.

I must be content to wait. The first session is scheduled for Friday, January 4. Despite my trepidations with the structure of the game, I’m really looking forward to it.

Civil War: Loyalty

***Spoiler Warning***

My group and I are playing through the Civil War event book for Marvel Heroic Roleplaying, from Margaret Weis Productions. While the course of play may not follow the event book – or the comic books – precisely, there’s going to be a certain amount of stuff that does conform to the adventures and comic series.

In short, if you don’t want to know what happens in Civil War, don’t read these posts. Or the comic books.

***You Have Been Warned***

Friday night was the latest session of my Civil War campaign. This being the Christmas season, I was only able to get  two of the four players together, but there was enough stuff to do ((Well, almost enough stuff. We stopped early because I hadn’t prepped quite far enough ahead, and the heroes threw me a bit of a curve. You’ll see.)) for us to get in a decent evening of play. Besides, one of the heroes who made it to the game was Jumpstart, who had missed the previous session, so I wanted to do some stuff with him to let him catch up.

So, we started with Jumpstart on the helicarrier, trying to track down Captain America and Black Widow ((And it was at this point that Jumpstart’s player shared the bit of backstory that Jumpstart had a crush on Black Widow, which I hadn’t known previous. We’ll have to see what I can do with that.)). He wanted to see what Cap’s take on the whole SHRA was. While he was there, he decided to use his Tech Expert to hack into the S.H.I.E.L.D. system and leave himself a back door.

Now, I should mention here that I’ve pretty much decided to ignore the distinction between Action Scenes and Transition Scenes as described in the rules. Well, not ignore, exactly. Rather, I let scenes flow back and forth between these two ((Pretty arbitrary.)) scene types. This means that I can let character actions determine which way things go.

One of the things this means is that I let the players roll to create assets in any scene they’re in, though they also have the option of just using their specialties to declare resources, as outlined in the rules. Frankly, I prefer having them roll for their assets, for a few reasons. First, if they’re rolling dice, I’ve got the possibility of increasing the doom pool. Second, it gives the players the chance to create some very cool assets, with high die values. Third, and most importantly, it gives the players more freedom to tell the story of how they create the asset, using the dice pool mechanic. This reveals a lot about the characters, and allows the players to shape the way their heroes approach things.

This allowed Jumpstart to build an asset for himself: Backdoor to S.H.I.E.L.D. Systems d10. Cap came in while he was doing this ((But Jumpstart was able to finish creating the asset.)) and invited Jumpstart to come to a conference room for a discussion. There, Cap encouraged Jumpstart to register, and to do it now.

Yeah, in my Civil War game, Captain America is pro-registration.

I did this for a specific reason. At least two of the players are pretty familiar with the Civil War storyline. Indeed, a couple of times, references have been made to future events. Now, I hasten to say that there’s nothing wrong with that – I’m not trying to blame anyone for cheating ((Whatever that means in roleplaying games. Nothing, really, in my opinion.)) or anything like that. But I don’t like the idea of everyone just walking through a scripted set of events, knowing where things are going and how they’re going to get there. It drains the fun from the idea of an RPG, in my opinion,

I told people going in that I was going to be changing some things up from the canon stories, aside from just substituting the players’ heroes for the ones from the comics. They all nodded and said, “Yeah, sure, cool,” but this was the first big change that they’ve actually run into. And the look on the player’s face as Cap started to apply the pressure to register was wonderful ((Okay, this was probably a factor in making my decision.)). I think he was hoping to be able to fight side-by-side with Captain America against the government oppression.

This is one of the things I like about how the Civil War event book is built. It gives you all the pieces to play the canon events as written, but it also provides a lot of hints and ideas and suggestions for changing things up and making the event your own. It’s a pretty fine line to walk, and the book does it beautifully. And it really only takes a few minutes of thought to build the chain of reasoning that can put a given hero on the opposite side of the question.

For Cap, it was simple. It’s the law of the land. It’s the orders of his commanding officer. And a true hero will work with the system to make sure that the new law is administered fairly, and try and curb any excesses. He will work within the law to protect people. He’s a patriot who won’t turn his back on his government and his fellow Americans, and so will work to change things from the inside ((Which brings up the question, “What about Iron Man? Is Tony Stark now anti-registration?” Well, I’m not telling yet. I can make a convincing case for either side, so I’m holding off making a decision until I need to, and then I’m going to base it on character actions and player expectations.)).

Cap made his pitch, and Jumpstart hedged. Cap called him on it, and Jumpstart asked for twenty-four hours to make his decision. Cap said that was reasonable, and confined Jumpstart to the helicarrier for the next twenty-four hours until he gave Cap his decision. Cap walked out, and Jumpstart mumbled that that Cap was a prick.

At that point, I cut away from Jumpstart to check in with Volcanic. He was starting to get worried about Jumpstart, who hadn’t checked in for about twelve hours. He spent some time using the sensors of the Guardians’ hideout to lock on to the location of the helicarrier, and then building the Guardjet ((Clint: “How long will it take me to build a personal flying device?” Me: “It will take you one montage.” Clint: “Done!”)), then went to finalize his sabbatical from NYU ((Bringing Candy along to his newly-expanded and remodelled underground pad.)) and say good-bye to the Fantastic Four ((And get invited to the gathering leading up to the midnight registration deadline.)), all just in case he needed to go on the run after rescuing Jumpstart.

And then he went to rescue Jumpstart.

I expected this to turn out to be the fight of the session, mirroring in some ways the comic book scene where Captain America is confronted by Maria Hill and her Capekillers, and fights his way free to escape the helicarrier. I was ready for that, with all the stats for Maria Hill, the Capekillers, and even Cap to make things more challenging if I needed to.

But Volcanic used intimidation, diplomacy, and bargaining to get in to see Jumpstart. There was a moment when I really thought things were going to go south – Maria Hill was standing up to the boys, telling them that, regardless of registration status or anything else, taking violent action against S.H.I.E.L.D. would make them fugitives and criminals. Normally, that sort of challenge tends to get players’ dander up, and leads quickly to conflict ((The “Them’s Fightin’ Words” effect.)). But Volcanic and Jumpstart decided that they didn’t want to cross that line – at least, not yet, seeing as they were deep in the belly of the helicarrier. So, Volcanic offered Hill the data he had on Nitro’s chemical signature in return for letting he ((Volcanic, not Nitro. Just to be clear.)) and Jumpstart leave without pursuit until the official deadline passed.

She agreed, but advised that she would be unable to prevent Captain America from coming after Jumpstart, seeing as Jumpstart was violating his promise to Cap. Jumpstart said he understood, and told her that none of this was personal. She disagreed, saying, “You’ve undermined my authority in front of my people, and may have jeopardized S.H.I.E.L.D.’s working relationship with Captain America. That’s pretty damned personal to me.”

Thus Volcanic and Jumpstart left the helicarrier in the Guardjet, resigned to going underground and on the run once the SHRA deadline arrived. I was pleased that it was a difficult choice for them, and that I was able to give them a nice, dramatic incident to force their decision. It felt fitting to me, and seemed to be effective for them.

But since there had been no combat in this session, we ended far earlier than I had intended. I could have thrown a basically irrelevant fight at them – the only relevant fight I’d prepped involved Maria Hill, Capekillers, and Cap – but it would have been just a fight for fight’s sake. The other non-fighty, dramatic bits were things I really wanted the other players there for. And thus, because I hadn’t prepped enough, we called it a night early ((Well, we stopped gaming early. We sat around talking for a while, and then it turned out that Tom had never seen a Jimmy Carr act, so we watched one of his stand-up specials that I had on my AppleTV.)).

So. We’ve got three out of four heroes opting to resist registration. I hope to wrap up the first act of the event next session, but I really want the whole group there for that. Here’s hoping.

Dateline – Storm Point

***SPOILER ALERT***

I’m running Tomb of Horrors for this leg of the Storm Point campaign. You may not want to read on if you’re playing the game yourself.

***SPOILER ALERT***

I’m a little behind on this post – the last Storm Point game was about three weeks ago. I’ve put the game on hiatus until after the New Year, just because everyone ((And by everyone, I mainly mean me. Don’t care so much about the other yahoos. 😉 )) is so busy, and scheduling, which is always a challenge, is even worse this time of year.

Anyway.

We’re continuing with the Tomb of Horrors adventure. The gang are on the second leg of the adventure, making their way through the city of Moil in the Shadowfell, looking for the centre of badness. This phase of the adventure has a couple of fights, some wandering around, some random encounters, and a fairly complicated set of skill challenges to get through one of the towers along the way. When I sat down to prep for the game, I looked things over, and decided that was far too much stuff for this group – we’re lucky if we get through two encounters in a session.

So, I kept a bit of the exploration, but cut out the random encounters. I also scaled back the skill challenge tower significantly – originally, it was a layered death trap, with shifting metal spires, whirling blades of force, and sonic mind disruptors, laced with a few banshees if the group was taking too long to navigate it. That thing alone would have taken at least one session for us to plow through. On the other hand, I liked the idea of a section of the city that the heroes needed to navigate carefully as a skill challenge, so I threw in a half-collapsed tower that they needed to find their way through.

They had some interesting times finding their way where they wanted to go, especially when they ran into a long, deep gap in the walkway. I used their various attempts to cross this gap to highlight the dangerous nature of the Shadowfell ((For example, the cleric fired a radiant bolt down into the darkness, and I made an attack against his Will. They don’t know what that was, and I’m not telling.)). I also had them making Endurance checks every hour or two to deal with the necromantic cold of the place. Failure meant losing a healing surge.

I capped off the evening with the fight against the Moil Barrow. In the adventure-as-written, this is an eminently avoidable ((Also, pretty nasty.)) fight, but I plopped it down right on the pathway to throw an exciting battle into the evening.

Well, it was meant to be exciting. I rolled so consistently poorly that this big, nasty solo soldier wasn’t much of a threat at all. It took them some time to wear it down, but its low initiative roll, plus all the conditions people placed ((And maintained.)) on it meant that it just wasn’t the death machine it was designed to be. Oh, well. Sometimes the dice just don’t co-operate.

After that fight, the gang decided to take an extended rest. I sprang the other nasty environmental surprise on them at that point: resting in the Shadowfell meant that they recovered one fewer healing surge, plus they had to make an Endurance check or lose another healing surge. They’ve decided they don’t like that.

After the New Year, the gang will get back to Moil, and find the center of evil that they’ve come seeking. I’m hoping to wrap up this leg of the adventure in another three to four sessions. Then, we’ll advance the characters up to be tough enough to take on the next episode of the Tomb of Horrors.

If they survive, of course.

Uncanny X-Mas!

Yesterday was the 11th Annual Winnipeg Harvest Game Day at Imagine Games & Hobbies. This is a day each year that Wendy and Pedro host a bunch of boardgames, miniature games, and RPGs. People come down and donate non-perishable food items to Winnipeg Harvest and, in return, get to compete in the various games for prizes.

The past couple of years, I’ve been running a Gamma World event there. But last year, there was a TPK, so I figured it was time to retire the Gamma World run ((Also, the popularity of Gamma World has waned over the past couple of years. The game, while fun, didn’t really have the legs to support a long-term play experience.)), and start something new. I’ve been enjoying running Marvel Heroic Roleplaying ((Hard to tell from my posts about it, huh?)), so I thought that would be an interesting game to toss in this year. The games are supposed to be Christmas-themed, so I took advantage of the release of the Civil War: X-Men supplement to create Uncanny X-Mas.

As is usual for these things, by the time I arrived to set up for the game, we had a grand total of one name on the sign-up sheet for Uncanny X-Mas. That number had grown to one ((Yes, that’s a joke. It’s also true.)) by the time the 1:00 start time rolled around. I still wasn’t too worried, because I’ve found that I can always fill the table if I wait a little bit. Ray, the fellow who had signed up, had shown up on time, but he was cool about waiting a little while to get more players, because that would make for a better game. I appreciate your patience, Ray!

Shortly after 1:00, a session of The Walking Dead boardgame ended, and two of those players came over to play, and then other people started gravitating towards the table. By 1:30, all the slots were full, and we were ready to start the game ((See? Told you so.)). Our heroes for the day were:

  • Cyclops
  • Nightcrawler
  • Emma Frost
  • Psylocke
  • Micromax
  • Colossus

I gave them the opening pitch for the game:

Uncanny X-Mas!

The madness of the Scarlet Witch has all but eliminated mutants worldwide. In the aftermath of M Day, the 198 remaining mutants gather at the Xavier Institute. The manned Sentinels of the O*N*E keep watch over the refugee camp that now surrounds the school, protecting humans and mutants from each other. Things are bleak – mutants are now an endangered species, Charles Xavier is missing, and tensions between heroes and normal folks are increasing as the SHRA is being discussed in Congress. Cyclops and Emma Frost are trying to keep Xavier’s dream alive, but even they begin to despair in the face of the uncertain future.

But all that is put aside for now. Christmas is tomorrow, and the remaining X-Men have decided that the mutant children in the school and in the camp deserve the best holiday their protectors can provide. And so a group of mutant heroes have gathered in the mansions great hall, drinking egg nog in front of the roaring fire, and wrapping presents.

What could possibly go wrong?

I ran the first scene as a transition scene, giving the players (only one of whom had played the game previously) a chance to get the hang of the mechanics, build some assets ((And contribute to the doom pool.)), and do some roleplaying. Now, because there was a prize at stake, I resorted to my old method of determining a “winner” for RPGs. At the end of each scene, I had the players vote for the character that they though had done the coolest thing. No one could vote for themselves and, at the end of the session, the player with the most votes got the prize.

The first scene, the votes went overwhelmingly to Emma Frost. See, Colossus decided to dress as Santa Clause and go out to cheer up the mutant children in the tents. He blew his roll badly, and I used the opportunity to show how counterattacks work, saying that he had scared the children, which inflicted some emotional stress on him due to guilt. Emma Frost decided to go out and calm the children down, threw in a little mind control action, and wound up with the asset Worshipful Child Minions d10 ((Which she promptly made persistent by spending a plot point.)), a fistful of XP for hitting some milestones related to her criminal past, and everyone’s stunned admiration. Also, their votes.

The second scene started with Psylocke sensing a disturbance outside, and rushed to help. She found packs of misshapen robotic elves pouring out of a giant flying sleigh-like flying ship. They were snatching mutant children, blasting everyone who got in their way. As they hauled the children back to the sleigh, the X-Men rushed out to stop them. The fight went on in a couple of different locales as the heroes split up to deal with the various groups of elves, and wiped them out in fairly quick order, but not before I had my 2d12 in the doom pool to end the scene.

I was really anticipating the reveal that the mutant children were being stolen away by Nanny – I had her egg-shaped form waddle to the open door of the sleigh, calling the X-Men naughty children, and all the rest of the schtick.

And everyone looked at me blankly.

I thought I had been clever using a fairly obscure villain ((She was, in fact, suggested to me by Cam Banks.)), but I was apparently a little too clever, because no one recognized Nanny. So, I outlined Nanny’s backstory to give some context for the whole thing, and everyone went, “Oh. Okay. Cool,” and we were off again.

The next scene was trying to trace where Nanny was taking the children. I ran it as a sort-of combat – the characters made their attempts to figure out where she had gone, using the effect dice from their attempts to inflict “Solution Stress” against the mystery. When they topped d12, the mystery was taken out, and they had her location, which just happened to be The North Pole, a Santa’s village tourist attraction in Connecticut. They hopped in the Blackbird and flew off to get the children back.

They overflew the site, spotting Nanny sitting on Santa’s Throne in the middle of the village, surrounded by her robo-elves and kidnapped ((And brainwashed, of course.)) children, with Orphan-Maker standing beside her. Emma Frost freed the children from Nanny’s control, while Psylocke put her to sleep. Colossus air-dropped onto Orphan-Maker ((Prompting comments about Peter-on-Peter action, which I quickly stifled, because this was a game in a public space and we had a child at the table.)), plowing him through a gingerbread house. Nightcrawler got the children away from the fight, and Micromax and Cyclops teamed up on the robo-elves.

Now, one of the quirks of the Winnipeg Harvest Game Day this year is that players were given cheat tokens for their donations – one token per dollar’s worth of food donated. They could spend these tokens for benefits during play. Here’s the menu of cheat offerings I came up with for the game:

Cheat Menu

1 Plot Point
1 Cheat Point

You can gain an extra plot point at any time for one cheat point. You can do this as often as you like and can afford.

O*N*E Sentinel Intervention
5 Cheat Points

An O*N*E Sentinel piloted by James Rhodes appears and takes one action that you determine. This can happen once per scene, but each intervention costs five cheat points.

Reinforcements
10 Cheat Points

Another hero comes along to help you for one scene. Choose another hero datafile from the pile, and you can play both characters for one scene. You can do this once each scene.

Reborn in Fire
15 Cheat Points

With the very existence of mutants in jeopardy, the Phoenix Force reaches out to you and grants you a portion of its power for one scene. You gain the Phoenix Force power set. This can only happen once in the entire game.

Why bring this up now? Because this is the moment that Nightcrawler spent his cheat points to channel the Phoenix Force. This is what I came up with for the Phoenix Force powers:

The Phoenix Force

The Phoenix Force suffuses your body, mind, and spirit, filling you with godlike power. Unfortunately, it will take time to master the full spectrum of the Phoenix’s abilities; in the heat of battle, you can only access the following powers:

Fiery Blast d12        Space Flight d12      Godlike Senses d12

The Phoenix Force power set has no SFX and no Limit.

In addition to these powers, you channel the energy into one of your mutant abilities. Pick one ability from a mutant power set and step up the power die by +1, to a maximum of d12.

So, Nightcrawler unleashed fire on Peter and the elves, Colossus spent a fistful of cheat points for plot points to soak up Orphan-Makers area attack on the whole group, and I think it was Micromax that finally put Orphan-Maker down.

Christmas was saved, the mutant children were rescued, and everyone lived happily ever after.

When the votes were tallied at the end of the game, it turned out that Emma Frost’s early lead had locked up the game for her. She was awarded the prize: a model of Nanny, made from a Kinder Egg, icing, and candy cane bits.

MHR Winner

The proud winner. Hard to see, but she’s holding a little model of Nanny, made from a Kinder Egg.

Thanks to Pedro and Wendy for hosting the event, and for providing the excellent prizes. And thanks to everyone who came down to play. And thanks especially to my players:

  • Colossus – Ray
  • Cyclops – Leo
  • Emma Frost – Kelsie
  • Micromax – Nathan
  • Nightcrawler – Aaron
  • Psylocke – Nadine

Merry Christmas, everyone!

 

Uncanny X-Mas This Saturday!

This Saturday is the Imagine Games & Hobbies 11th Annual Winnipeg Harvest Game Day. I’ve been running Gamma World the last couple of years there, but last year there was a TPK, so I figure that’s that for the ongoing Christmas-themed story I was building.

This year, I’m going to be running a Marvel Heroic Roleplaying game.

Uncanny X-Mas!

The madness of the Scarlet Witch has all but eliminated mutants worldwide. In the aftermath of M Day, the 198 remaining mutants gather at the Xavier Institute. The manned Sentinels of the O*N*E keep watch over the refugee camp that now surrounds the school, protecting humans and mutants from each other. Things are bleak – mutants are now an endangered species, Charles Xavier is missing, and tensions between heroes and normal folks are increasing as the SHRA is being discussed in Congress. Cyclops and Emma Frost are trying to keep Xavier’s dream alive, but even they begin to despair in the face of the uncertain future.

But all that is put aside for now. Christmas is tomorrow, and the remaining X-Men have decided that the mutant children in the school and in the camp deserve the best holiday their protectors can provide. And so a group of mutant heroes have gathered in the mansions great hall, drinking egg nog in front of the roaring fire, and wrapping presents.

What could possibly go wrong?

I’m using the characters from the newly released Civil War: X-Men supplement, so there are over thirty mutant characters for players to pick from. The villain of the piece was suggested to me by Cam Banks, and is one I wouldn’t have thought of on my own. It promises to be an exciting and Christmasy scenario!

Start time is 1:00 PM, and I expect the game will run 3-4 hours. You don’t need to bring anything down to play – I’ll have everything you need – but you must bring a non-perishable food item to donate to Winnipeg Harvest as your admission. The value of your donation also buys you special cheat points that you can use during the game for surprise bonuses. The more generous you are, the better the bonuses you can unlock!

Space is limited to six players, so if you want to guarantee a spot at the table, head on down to Imagine Games & Hobbies and sign up at the front desk.

Come play with me. It’ll be fun.

 

Watching the Watcher: GM Constraints in MHRPG

Cam Banks said this on Twitter:

I’ve had people question me why the Watcher doesn’t just have “full GM powers” in #MarvelRPG. Reason: Constraints are good.

As someone who’s just recently started running a Marvel Heroic Roleplaying campaign ((Or maybe mini-campaign, depending on how you define such things. What I’m doing is running the Civil War event.)), this was kind of enlightening for me. I had been noticing that being a Watcher in MHRPG was qualitatively different than being a GM in a lot of other games, and hadn’t yet put my finger on exactly why.

And there it is: constraints.

Now, I’m a firm believer in Cam’s statement that constraints are good. Constraints can focus a play experience in a very particular direction, and dealing with constraints can help foster creativity as you try and fit what you want into the framework you’re using. The first aspect of that leads to consistency and the second to variety, the combination of which produces what we want in most narratives: something that is both inevitable and surprising ((What this means when you unpack it is primarily that we want things that catch us off-guard but remain internally consistent and do not strain our suspension of disbelief. I could – and have, when I was in university – go into great depth on this one subject, but it’s not really all that interesting. It’s just a good principle to keep in mind when working on any sort of narrative.)).

There are three main constraints on Watchers in MHRPG ((There may be more, and more subtle ones, but these are the three big ones that I’ve spotted so far. Scene definition as either Action or Transition may be another, but I’m as yet unconvinced of that, so I’m leaving it off the list. )) : open rolls, the doom pool, and the initiative system.

Open Rolls

What I mean by this is that every roll the Watcher makes happens right in front of the players. The players get to watch you build your dice pool – which works by pretty much the same method they use ((The only exception is using the doom pool instead of plot points.)) – and then they see you roll the dice, set aside the ones, and pick your dice for the total and the effect. It all happens right out in the open. Why is this a constraint? Well, because one tool in a GM’s toolbox is fudging rolls ((And yes, there are massive arguments over whether fudging rolls is a good idea or a bad idea. I will say that I find it a useful tool in some games, mainly to help control pacing.)), and with everything happening out in the open, you can’t get away with that.

Players get to see the dice rolls, and can do the math as easily as you can, so you can’t cheat to make things harder for them. On the other hand, you can’t cheat to make things easier for them, either. HackMaster has ((Or at least had; I haven’t looked at any of the new editions.)) a rule that states, “Let the dice fall where they may,” meaning that the GM should not be fudging rolls, and should let the dice decide if the characters live or die.MHRPGdoesn’t usually have life-or-death situations resolved by a single roll, but the concept of letting the dice decide is firmly enforced by the fact that they are rolled out in the open.

Now, there are still ways to manipulate the result a little bit, mainly by spending dice from the doom pool, but it becomes very obvious if you’re doing that. I’ll talk a little more about that next.

The Doom Pool

Lots of games give mechanical currency to players, allowing them to affect the results of dice rolls. Fate points, action points, luck points – in MHRPG, they’re plot points. Nothing all that new about that, though the game gives a number of interesting ways to use them, and gain them. Unlike most other RPGs, in MHRPG, the Watcher gets some mechanical currency as well, in the form of the doom pool.

This lets the Watcher manipulate the rolls much like players do, under the same sorts of constraints – the doom pool is currency that gets spent and earned in a manner very similar to ((And intertwined with.)) the way characters get plot points. One of the cool things about this is that it takes the place of fudging rolls as a tool for pacing and shaping the drama, but it happens out in the open, and isn’t cheating, because it happens completely within the mechanical framework of the rules.

One of the interesting things I’ve noticed about using the doom pool is that, when you invoke it to mess up the players in a big way, they tend to blame themselves for letting the doom pool grow as high as it did. When players see you spending doom dice to mess them up, it’s a fair cop. And when they see you deliberately not spending doom dice, they get even more worried, because you’re obviously saving up for the dreaded 2d12 you need to end the scene, which usually doesn’t happen in the players’ favour.

The Initiative System

I’ve written about the initiative system in brief in previous posts. This post by Fred Hicks does the best job of describing the intricacies and subtleties of the initiative system ((One aside, here. I have found that, so far, many of the action scenes only go between one and three rounds. This makes it especially powerful to be the last character acting at the end of the first round, as long as you have allies that you can then tap to start a chain at the start of the second round. In a lot of cases, if you manage that, there won’t be a third round, ’cause you’ve already won.)). In brief, it turns play sequence into a tactical minigame, rather than a random determination. And it puts the Watcher on exactly the same footing as the players. Again, this means that you can’t fudge things, tweaking the initiative order in secret – but you can do some pretty hefty tweaking out in the open, right in front of the players. And it’s not anything they can’t do, themselves, so it’s not really cheating.

The Results of Constraint

These three constraints work together to produce a very specific play experience – one where the Watcher gets to feel like a player in his interactions with the rules. Normally, the GM kind of sits above the rules, and decides when and where to apply them for best effect. You can do that in MHRPG, too, but if you accept the constraints as written, you instead get down into the trenches on even footing with the players.

Why is that good? Not for the obvious reason of balance. I don’t believe balance between GM and players is really possible ((Or all that desirable.)). And the game does a good enough job of making the various mechanical pieces balance against each other using the dice pool mechanic, so that’s not really the issue.

It’s good because it’s fun. It’s good because it lets you play as hard as you can in an adversarial role when it’s time for the villains to act, without feeling like you need to keep anything in check. The constraints and openness mean that, if you pull out the stops and your villain completely trashes a hero, the players start to fear the villain and not the Watcher. They know you played it fair ((And I believe fairness is a very different thing than balance. Fairness, and the perception of fairness, is vital in building trust between GM and players.)), and just flat-out beat their characters.

It’s also a lot of fun because you are bound by the same sorts of triumphs and reversals that make the characters’ lives interesting. Roll enough ones, and even Dr. Doom is gonna have a bad day. It’s surprising, you’re stuck with it, and the player gets to have a moment of awesome that none of you were expecting, as he or she narrates what amazing thing the character did to pwn Doom. And when you roll amazingly well and the player rolls poorly, you get that same opportunity.

A friend once said to me that she felt GMing and playing in an RPG were, in a lot of ways, two different hobbies, and there’s some truth to that. Certainly, in most traditional games, the GM finds enjoyment in different things than the players do. With this sort of constraint system in place on the Watcher, you really get the best of both worlds – all the fun world-building, adventure-making, villain-playing good stuff that GMs usually get along with the dice-manipulation, hail-mary-throwing desperation, surprising reversal and triumph joy of being a player.

Both flavours of fun in one tasty game.

Civil War: In the Shadow of Stamford

***Spoiler Warning***

My group and I are playing through the Civil War event book for Marvel Heroic Roleplaying, from Margaret Weis Productions. While the course of play may not follow the event book – or the comic books – precisely, there’s going to be a certain amount of stuff that does conform to the adventures and comic series.

In short, if you don’t want to know what happens in Civil War, don’t read these posts. Or the comic books.

***You Have Been Warned***

Last night, we got 75% of the gang ((Jumpstart’s player was out of town, but there was enough stuff to do that didn’t require everyone in attendance. So, Jumpstart was off seeing what he could find out from his S.H.I.E.L.D. contacts.)) together for the next Civil War session. We had ended the previous session with the clean-up after the Stamford tragedy, and we picked it up there as well.

The mood in Stamford was turning, especially after the passage of the SHRA, and most of the heroes had done what they could and got out by the third day. The people in Stamford, originally grateful for the help, were starting to look on the heroes with anger and suspicion and fear. By the end of the third day, the Guardians decided that it was best to head back to New York, but not before Volcanic gathered some samples from the blast site allowing him to create a chemical profile that he thinks will help him track down Nitro.

The Doctor also got a copy of the SHRA and read through it. He decided that the rather draconian provisions of the act ((Things like suspension of due process for heroes, conscription into S.H.I.E.L.D., indefinite detention, and treating anyone who aids an unregistered hero as a criminal.)) made him uncomfortable. He shared the information with the rest of the Guardians, and began making plans to go underground.

Volcanic and Mega Joule followed suit, starting to cut their ties with their civilian lives. Mega Joule said good-bye to Coach Nelson and left his job at the community centre to move into Guardians HQ – he had already made up his mind that he wasn’t going to register. Volcanic cleaned out his office at NYU, and had a conversation with the head of his department, who offered some support and suggested that Volcanic ((The only one with a public identity, mainly because it’s hard to disguise an eight-foot-tall humanoid magma being.)) may want to take a sabbatical, and the department head would expedite the paperwork to get it done before the registration deadline.

Volcanic also called Candy, his lab assistant ((And unknowing love interest.)) to say goodbye, and was somewhat astounded when she told him that not only would she support whatever decision he made, she would go with him if he decided to go underground ((Clint: “Just so you know, having Candy respond like that has really messed up Volcanic’s head, so good job!”)).

The Doctor went to see his parents and let them know he was cutting all financial ties with them to make sure that, if he decided not to register, there would be no reason for the authorities to come after them. I decided that I’d given enough ammo to the anti-registration argument at that point, and had the parents encourage the Doctor to register, providing mainly emotional arguments, but with a few logical bits thrown in ((So, it was a mix of “Why wouldn’t you register? You don’t do anything wrong! You’re a hero!” along with “If you’re involved, you can curb the worst excesses.” and the fearful implied argument “Untrained, unsupervised teenagers with superpowers just killed over six hundred people. Doesn’t that sound like training and supervision is a good idea? And that means you need superheroes to train and supervise – and police – other superheroes. Normal folks can’t do it.”)).

The upshot was that Volcanic and the Doctor were both on the fence about registration. A good part of the evening was spent discussing and debating the pros and cons of registration, and what would happen to the team if some opted for registration and others didn’t.

I loved it. They were taking the idea of the SHRA seriously, and were genuinely concerned about the consequences of their choices. That’s some meaty roleplaying fodder.

In the end, I made it clear that they didn’t have to make a decision during that session – I want to save the decision until the whole group is there, and Jumpstart needs to confront the possibilities before the decision becomes meaningful for him. So, maybe next session. In the meantime, everyone got ready to be able to drop off the radar if that’s what they decided to do.

With that discussion tabled for now, the Guardians decided to go after the Sloveniy Bratva, the Russian gang that had hired the Titanium Man to kill Mega Joule. They tracked them to their clubhouse during an important meeting ((Mega Joule rolled an extraordinary success when intimidating information out of gang members, so I gave him the place and decided that there would be an important meeting going on that evening.)), and burst up through the floor in the middle of things ((After carefully clearing the area of civilians and blocking the doors with Stone Walls d8)).

I had decided that the Sloveniy Bratva was being used by the Maggia to make inroads in Manhattan, allowing Nefaria to try and grab a piece of the island without directly challenging the Kingpin, so Nefaria was there to provide a case of A.I.M.-created blasters. Also present was his current bodyguard, Electro.

The fight was interesting. The players are really getting the hang of the system, and are using it to create some memorable moments. Examples? Sure!

  • The Doctor took out Nefaria, trapping him in a repeating time-loop with his Sorcery ((One-shotted him, in fact, in the first action of the combat.)).
  • Mega Joule managed a very cool counter-attack, bouncing the blaster bolts off his body with his Kinetic Control to take out some of the goons.
  • Volcanic single-handedly took down Electro with emotional stress, just humiliating him into submission. First, he let Electro blast him and shrugged it off effortlessly ((With a counterattack against his emotional stress.)), then used a pillar of lava to slam him into the waterpipes in the ceiling, soaking him and grounding him out ((Volcanic spent several plot points on this, winding up with a double-extraordinary success and two effect dice, both of which he stepped up.)).

When they turned the crooks over to the police, things were a little tense. There were a number of the cops who wanted to bring in the heroes, as well, for being unregistered heroes and vigilantes, and all that sorta thing. Mega Joule asked if he could spend a plot point to have a DEA agent who was favourably disposed toward him that he could call, and I said sure ((I made a decision at that point that I would allow the players to spend plot points for persistent contacts, with a couple of caveats. First, they had to name the contact. Second, while the contact belonged to the character, he or she would be played by me, and the relationship would be subject to change depending on how the character treated the contact. Third, it would cost a plot point so that the characters would only create NPCs they were interested in enough to spend the point, and not just create ten new ones each session that I would then have to keep track of. Clint asked, “Can we do the same thing to create enemies?” and I thought that was awesome, so I said, “Absolutely!”)). The DEA got them out of there in good order.

Now Mega Joule, who happens to have the Hunted by M.O.D.O.K. milestone, has information that the Maggia is buying weapons from A.I.M ((That’s quite a coincidence, hmmm?)). He also was able to give his DEA agent contact information on at least a couple of the Maggia’s stash houses, thanks to the drugs they recovered from the meet and the Doctor’s sorcery.

We wrapped things up for the evening then, but had a short post mortem on the game – something I tend to frequently in the early days of a campaign, then every now and then as a campaign progresses – to see how people were liking things.

Consensus is that the system is becoming easier for people. It’s required a bit of a shift of perspective from traditional games, both for the players and for the GM, but as we gain familiarity with it, it’s allowing us some significant freedom in the game. The players are getting better at using the system creatively and effectively, and I’m getting better at judging when I need to invoke the system and when things should just develop through straight narrative. And we’re all getting better at blending the narrative and the mechanics to entertaining effect.

So, here we are, three sessions in, and we’re all having a lot of fun with the system and with the campaign. I’m really looking forward to the next session.

 

Dosvidan’ya, Ladimir Csabor

So, a couple of weeks ago, my friend Michael wrapped up a campaign that had been running for a number of years ((About eight years, in fact. We started shortly after the first Iron Kingdoms books came out.)). It was set in the Iron Kingdoms, which world really had Michael pumped to run a game.

I will admit that, after reading the game books, I wasn’t all that impressed with the world, but I figured I’d give it a try. I had some problems with the whole steampunk ((No, you won’t persuade me that IK is not steampunk. No, you won’t persuade me that steampunk is cool.)) thing, and I didn’t much care for some of the rule changes that had been made to de-emphasize non-mechanical magic and emphasize fighters, rogues, and mechanical magic.

On the other hand, I quite liked their take on elves, for example, and the way they made non-human races quite rare in comparison to all the different flavours of humans. And I tend to enjoy the games Michael runs, so I opted in.

And thus Ladimir Csabor was created.

Ladimir started out as a very basic soldier, with some good general weapon skills both for ranged and hand-to-hand. He was a former sergeant, and thus had some experience making people do what he wanted them to. He was also the old man of the group. Over time, he turned intoLadimir Csabor, Man of ACTION! I boosted a lot of his physical skills to let him pull off interesting stunts in combat ((Things like leaping over opponents, swinging on chandeliers, and, in one memorable scene, charging his horse up a wooden ziggurat to disrupt a ghostly sacrifice.)), many of which were rather surprising, given his massive size.

The campaign wound down at one point, when we had completed the initial mission we had banded together for ((The group was made of characters from several different nations – some of them almost at war – so we needed strong reasons not to shoot each other. It almost happened a couple of times, anyway. The shooting each other thing, I mean.)), but restarted after a hiatus to move us into a second, then third phase of the campaign.

And then, near the end of the third phase, we trailed off. Sessions became less frequent, until it seemed like the game had died. It was less than ideal, but that’s the way it goes sometimes with games. Interest wanes – either in the players or the GM ((Sometimes both.)) – and the game just dies.

But Michael didn’t want to let things end that way, so he scheduled one more session to wrap everything up. I thought it was a good idea, but I worried about how he’d pull it off. No sleight is meant to Michael; it’s just that the inertia of a stopped game is hard to overcome. It’s tough to get people back into character after too long, tough to make them care about the game again, and tough to wrap things up in a way that makes it feel worthwhile.

Man, did he come through.

He got us back into character and caring about things through a quick, interactive recap of events up to this point. He let us roleplay for a little while, fleshing out plans, but didn’t let us get mired down over-anazlyzing the situation ((I don’t know about your group, but my friends and I can create more problems for ourselves through overplanning than the GM can conceive of to throw at us.)). He got us into some wonderful cinematic action that moved fast and kept us on the edge of our seats. He gave us the victory we fought for ((I really didn’t think Ladimir would survive the final battle. He did, but it was a near thing.)).

And then he did something that was absolute genius, as far as I’m concerned. He gave us each three poker chips, and had us use them to narrate the end of our characters’ stories, a la Fiasco. I wouldn’t have thought of it, myself, and it worked gloriously.

So, I got to tell the tale of Ladimir returning to his family’s farm, taking his place among the uncles working there, turning into a crotchety old man, and finally dying and being laid to rest.

It was awesome.

So, thank you, Michael for the game. I may not have liked the world, but I really enjoyed the game. And thanks for showing me how to end a game properly.

Now.

What are you running next?