Monday, November 9, 2015

New Magic Item: Checkhov's Gun

     This might be a terrible idea, but it might also be awesome. I am reading Sabriel By Garth Nix, and right around page 80 something reminded me of Anton Checkhov's theory of gun control. This has not been play tested, and is written off-the-cuff.

Checkhov's Gun
Usable by: Bard Only

Checkhov's Gun is an artifact, possibly named for it's discoverer or creator. It can appear as any missile weapon that is campaign appropriate. It can be used normally and functions as a +1 weapon or +3 in the hands of a talented bard.

The Gun's real power comes when it is talked about or displayed prominently. If an NPC or PC discusses the weapon or reveals it's existence to any PC or NPC, it must be used before the end of the current game session, or it will disappear from the wielder's possession and appear someplace else to await a new wielder.

If the weapon is used after being revealed or discussed, the wielder will find it loaded, cocked, and ready to fire the instant it's needed. Then a d20 will be rolled to hit with the usual modifiers.

     Critical Miss - The projectile will hit someone or something unintended in spectacularly dramatic        fashion and slay or destroy that person or thing outright with no saving throw permitted.

     Miss- As above, but the damage done to the person or object is a critical hit.

     Hit- Automatic Critical Hit on the intended target.

     Nat 20- Whatever was being shot is instantly obliterated/killed/Destroyed with no saving throw          permitted.

Whatever happens next, it needs to be dramatic. That's on the DM, but if your bard is performing up-to-snuff, you may want to throw him inspiration or something.
    

Thursday, November 5, 2015

The below was my first submission to The Thought Eater Tournament, hosted by Zak S. Maybe you can get something out of it.

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You want is a system created that enables you infinite play? A campaign that goes on forever?
                  
     You can’t have it. Nothing is boundless. There is no infinite game. Everything ends.

And that is beautiful.
            
      Infinity is fucking scary. It’s wrong. It has no place here, in our hearts and minds. The Abyss is infinite. I hear that when you gaze into it and it gazes into you. (Though it also has 666 layers—a finite number--so try to make peace with that, too) The Infinite is unknowable and immeasurable. It’s what your adventurer is going out into. It is the void that births the horrors. It’s why part of you is still afraid of the dark, and it’s why you get gooseflesh when in that one room in your house. It’s why when you gaze long into that starry night sky, you feel inspired but also small. Very, very, small.

     Lives, objects, things around us—those have beginnings, middles, and ends. We can measure them. We can count them and we can know them. But the infinite is amorphous, unbound, and unknowable. Infinity has no end, and no structure. Endings are what define us.

One day, you will stop playing Dungeons & Dragons.

Any number of things might stop you. Your Cleric may need to work some extra shifts on Thursdays. Maybe you asked out another player, and even though you both promised it wasn’t going to be totally weird, it’s still totally weird. Maybe you just had twins. Your partner doesn’t game and you’re not comfortable leaving them with two newborns so you can go pretend to be an Elf for a few hours. Or, you might just die. You have an end.

 One day, you will roll dice for the last time.

From that, we have two useful ideas for gaming. The first is that Infinity is scary. As a player you struggle against it. Adventure is the act of striking out into what is unknown and undefined. You are on an undertaking that seeks to create an ending, to give structure to the boundless--to tell the untold.

As a referee or game master, you use the various infinities as tools. You present them to players, and interpret the results of their choices. Tap into the fearful nature of the infinite, and never take it for granted. Don’t ever present or use the known. When the Goblin becomes a pest to be exterminated instead of a horror to stand against, retire the goblin.

The second useful gaming idea is to make every roll count. If you’re going to spend 4ish hours of your time each week, plus your prep, make sure you’re spending it well.  It, like everything else, is finite. It ends.

Try new and crazy things. Don’t play with rules you don’t like. If you find you need a new rule for something, make one. Write it into your PHB with a black permanent marker. If it sucks, scratch it back out with that same marker. Make what you are playing hard--a challenge. Talk to everyone and everything. Pick up everyone and everything. Break the magic staff. Slay the monster. Insult the wizard. Seduce the High Priest. Carouse. Use a lot of random tables and accept the result. Play hard. Die. Roll 3d6 six more times and go again. While you’re rolling those 3d6 six more times, look around the table and ask the Halfling to pass the Doritos. If the Dungeon Master is getting up for a beer, ask them to bring you one and ask if she wants you to roll for starting gold. Then look around and realize that you’re working hard, playing like a fool and doing it with a few of your closest friends. That beer is going to taste motherfuckin’ delicious.
            
      Take that. Take your infinite, your interminable horror. If you did it right, it’ll make your skin crawl. Add the Halfling Rogue you asked out and with whom things are still totally weird, but hey, they passed the Doritos so maybe it’s not a lost cause. Your cleric friend just (finally) finished their shift, and you’re rolling up what might just be a serviceable paladin. And that’s good, because the Dungeon Master hired a baby sitter, and put together a new matrix of random tables to try out tonight.

                  
     It is not infinite, and that is beautiful.