I can't recall with any certainty where the original idea was born. Eric and I had talked about it as an excuse to have a good time. We did not even know if it was possible for two people to consume a case of Yuengling in a sitting. It was decided that we would acquire said case of Yuengling and after we finished working our shift at the bar downtown, last 4th of July, we would abscond back to his house and give it a shot.
"Worst-case-scenario, we have a great time." -EJB
In theory, on paper, it all sounded great.
Unfortunately, on July 3rd I made a number of bad decisions that ended with me drinking the last of a six pack of malt liquor while two of my other friends emptied their portions of the swill back onto the banks of the Allegheny River around 4am. Cackling to myself, I called them amateurs until doing exactly the same the next morning.
This bad decision is the first point of contention between EJB and myself.
I was broken with hangover when I got to work for the 4th. The prospect of closing the bar with the amount of business we were getting for the holiday bent my soul to the point of danger. Eventually, however, we managed to get out of there and back to his place - stopping only once to burgle some black bean burgers from the freezer at my apartment on the way.
And then it started. It started with Eric's roommate asking if he could buy one of the beers in the case off of us... It sounded debaucherous and silly when he said it then, but looking back his explanation that we really needed all twenty-four of those beers was fantastic.
We drank Yuengling by the bottle. We took turns playing Call of Duty: Black Ops on his little TV, sitting right on the coffee table. We made a good effort of it. The sun came up. We wavered. Getting close to 6am I had to call it.
The final tally? Eric had consumed 11 of his twelve beers. Me? A paltry 9 of twelve beers drunk. Now for the second point of contention - Eric tends to leave a finger or two in the bottoms of his bottles. Understandably, the last sips are the least appetizing. Yet when you are Racing Cases and Chasing Steeples, these little amounts matter. Who can tell how many last swigs went wasted? One full beer? One and a half? We will never know. Then there is the matter of the spilling of a beer. Half of a beer on the kitchen floor as we sat there drinking. These two seemingly trivial matters can amount to a lot when you consider the difference in our totals. It has been a huge point of contention for the last year.
Contention aside - Eric and I agreed that one of the most important requirements of participating in a CRSC is that the person(s) you are doing it with should be ones you would not mind engaging in embittered munchkining for at least a year concerning the accumulation of warm backwash or malt liquor mistakes on the sides of rivers.
That said - Tuesday night we are going at it again. We are going at it again and this time we are bringing friends.
Jay (@crippledvulture), Rob, Eric (@lifeasavirus) and myself, Ryan (@rsreed) are going to hide in the squalored chambers of Starship Kegasus while my lady goes out of town and we are going to try and consume two cases of Yuengling in a night. While doing so we are going to play four player Marvel: Ultimate Alliance 1 or Scott Pilgrim vs The World.
When discussing strategy, Eric is aiming for slow and steady. "You don't race the clock, you race the man." He is going to try and hit his pace and hold to it. Jay on the other hand believes that he has a secret super-power that will enable him to finish first. "My strategy rests pretty much entirely on my great thirst," says Jay. "People at work marvel at how much water I consume during a shift. I just seem to be able to put away vast quantities of liquid..." Pacing-wise, Jay just wants to set himself up one beer ahead of Eric, ready for the haul. I am aiming for a three hour case race. If I can put away a bottle every 15 minutes I think that I will be fine. I am purposely not drinking tonight and I am going to eat early in the day tomorrow so that belly-room and discomfort never become an issue. At the time of publication, Rob could not be reached for what I am sure are obvious reasons.
Rob - Full Time Wrangler, Part Time Blogger.
So stay tuned to our various channels tomorrow evening around 10:30pm as we will be live updating/tweeting the entire event. It is sure to get silly.
I've been dungeonmastering and storytelling tabletop games for over a decade, on and off. I knew the turnout would be substantial when we decided to play a Star Wars D20 game, and I was not disappointed. Nine players is a lot to handle, and will presumably involve a degree of cat-herding.
Cats don't rip your arms out of their sockets when they lose.
I spent the previous week worrying about how to wrangle everyone into the story and ultimately on to the same ship. I'll leave the telling of our tale to Ryan for now because I want to focus on the nuts and bolts of running a game this big. Everyone appeared to leave happy, but I'm going to assume for the purpose of this writing that they were mostly just being nice because there were some major flaws in the execution.
First, I needed a theme and tone. I've long been a fan of the old Battlestar Galactica slash Voyager slash Macross "community on the run" sort of story. Sure, it's a bit over-utilized, but it has a lot to offer a game like ours. We have ten characters with different backgrounds and motives. You can get a group of four or so to set aside their differences and work together on something but the process of negotiating that whole alliance between so many characters could take all night.
This story format forces the issue by presenting the characters with an existential crisis - in this case, a hostile takeover of the space station they all live on. They must work together because the options for escape are limited and the alternative is capture or death.
That element seemed to work pretty well. Once it was clear that the station would soon be crawling with stormtroopers, the players started working together to escape - though they disagreed on the best way to abscond.
As a funny little aside, Ryan spent a lot of time working on his character's story, and with it the story and layout of the remote station where the game began. In the weeks before we sat down to play, I could see him getting attached to the place, but I couldn't tell him I planned to drive them out of it.
Since these games can take a while, I chose a pretty simple (or so I thought) three act format that I hoped we could complete in a reasonable amount of time.
We got close enough.
After the obligatory character introductions, I leaned over our sweet graphed-out chalkboard table and said, "now roll initiative." Rather than spend an hour and a half leading everyone to the first battle, I decided to throw them right into the middle of it. The first act involved three combats run simultaneously in different locations. Pirates and saboteurs probing the doomed station for weakness.
That was a good call. The foes were relatively weak, but desperate. Not enough to really menace the characters, but sufficient to send a message. "This station is a mess," our wookie player commented. Exactly.
The second act was where my plan started to become bogged down. This is where I wanted the players to investigate the invaders and determine that they were not mere scoundrels, but pawns in an Imperial plot to take over.
It took much longer than it should have. I don't mean to suggest that the players weren't smart enough, but rather that I should have been able to lead them to the proper conclusion through more than just the couple of channels I prepared ahead of time. I've always felt that my ability to think on my feet as a DM was one of my skills - indeed I've run games entirely from the top of my head - but I just wasn't fast enough.
Victory in a situation like that - figuring out what's going on - would not have been cheapened by making it a little easier. In fact, as we found out directly afterward, the players themselves will provide the additional challenge and drama. They immediately disagreed on how exactly to escape the station, and whether or not to help the other denizens get away, or blow it up on the way out.
I have always liked these. Hence, I put the group on one.
That discussion, and the logistical challenges presented by the players' conclusions was where that second act's time should have been spent. I think that is the second lesson from this game - keep it simple and let the players provide the color and moral quandaries. In a group that big, they're going to do it anyway.
By the time the third act had begun, fatigue and drunkenness were setting in, and I had to end things quickly. I allowed them to escape the Star Destroyer without much of a fight with their stolen flotilla. I had planned a scene in which the fighter pilot characters would need to defend the ship from TIEs while the rest of them escorted the tech-savvy Sullustan to engineering - fighting through a stormtrooper boarding party - in order to restore the hyperdrive.
It would have been cool, but maybe next time.
Don't get me wrong, I think it was a good game. The fact that we reached the intended end point and set the characters off on their adventure is enough for me. I think it will help me improve my DMing as well. It was a very different beast from the kind of thing we usually do. It was more akin to the webcomic writing I've done than I expected (my forum-adventure comic, A Beginner's Guide to the End of the Universe). You have to switch off your targeting computer. Let go. Set some waypoints in the story but let the group dynamic carry it as much as possible. With so many people, there's enough material that will just manifest itself and the whole story will be richer for it, I think.
We plan to switch up the DM role, so I'm looking forward to seeing where we go from here. That, and playing my B2 Battle Droid Tech Specialist.
Since the Swords of the Kegasus began gathering over a year ago, we have talked about a casual, monthly game with little obligation and lots of people. We were looking for a place for folks who were interested in trying out a roleplaying game (specifically our brand of rules-light, not taking ourselves too seriously gaming). Our playtesting of DND Next got us started in a pretty good way. Though Carly was the one who vocalized it, we had all wanted to play the Star Wars D20 RPG at some level. It was unofficially settled pretty quickly.
Ever since I was made aware of a Star Wars role-playing game (all the way back to the D6 pre-Wizards of the Coast versions) I have wanted to play a Slicer. Not a Jedi, not a Smuggler, but a Slicer. I have wanted to play a character that new almost nothing about shooting a blaster or using the force, but could work magic and wonders with a datapad and a computer terminal. I guess now is my chance.
The hardest part so far in the creation of the character has been trying to decide what race I should play. I always start down this road with grand and noble ideas. For instance, I wanted to play a Rodian - because, lets be honest, they are one of the coolest races next to Wookies on a purely aesthetic scale. Then I start to think about that bonus feat that Humans receive at first level. The Mon Calamari, with that +2 to INT seems like a much wiser choice of race over the Rodian +2 DEX. Then there are Sullustians - again, cool as shit - Bothans. It gets frustrating fast.
So in a way to balance all this problem solving, I have decided to roll my character stats first and then see how I can fit them into the races that I want to play. The Mon Calamari is just a tech powerhouse. It’s hard not to just pick them. With the INT and the bonuses to craft, its just plain difficult not to go ahead and play one. I am going to roll the stats and then look at what it is I can do with what I get. I secretly hope that I don’t succumb to the Calamari - but they are pretty damn sweet. Let’s roll some dice.
First roll out of the gate is a 15, which is a pretty sweet and strong start. Then a 14. Then an 8. Ouch. That is going to be pretty damn painful no matter where I choose to put it. Followed by a 7?!? What the fuck random.org? This character already has some serious flaws no matter how I try and spin it. Then 11. And for the last one...8. Jesus Christ. 15, 14, 8, 7, 11, 8. Nope. There is no way that I can spin three scores in the minuses and still play a fun character. Now don’t get me wrong, I love a low ability score. There is something inside me, some narrative engine, that loves to look at a low score and weave that into a story. But that is a lot of low score.
Let’s try this again. 12, 16, 6, 17, 12, 10. Ok this is something a bit more workable. The six is super low and its going to be a handicap, but a single handicap is a fun and interesting thing to build a character around. That sixteen and seventeen are pretty sweet as well. With the sixteen and seventeen I think that I am going to steer away from the Mon Calamari - as tempting as it is, I think I want to take a crack at one of the other three races that seemed like a bit of fun. Initial placement is going to look like this:
STR - 6
DEX - 16
CON - 12
INT - 17
WIS - 10
CHR - 12
I like this - I am already starting to figure out some ideas for how I want to play this guy. Now I am considering making my character an older one, which would bump my intelligence up to 18, which is awesome, at the cost of dropping my strength to a 5. A 5. That is a -3. I would be shit at climbing and jumping. I could not swing a punch to save my life. But I would be fast, and I would be smart. The fast part not so much. All rodian, Bothan, and Sullustians get +2 DEX, so starting out at adult as opposed to middle age would give me an 18 DEX. I would be fast, quick, and hard to hit, while missing out on that 18 INT which is the bread and butter of my entire character. Fuck it. I am not making this guy to dodge shit. He is going to pretty much be a genius, lets ditch min/maxing for some good story elements and the fact that I historically like to play older characters. Let’s apply the age modifiers before finalizing a race:
STR - 5
DEX - 15
CON - 11
INT - 18
WIS - 11
CHR - 13
That is what my un-racial character looks like at middle age. It’s time that I am going to have to settle on a race, to choose between Rodian, Bothan, or Sullustian.
Bothan could be fun - being older with that terrible STR could mean that I was a skilled member of the SpyNet that was crippled somehow. Ulterior motives and old connections could make for some fun playing.
The super hunter nature of the Rodians really doesnt give me much to work with. Likewise the subterranean Sullustan only sort of lends itself to the idea of working in a small dark room as a hacker. No Rodian. Sullustan or Bothan. I think that I am going to go with a Bothan. A crippled Bothan ex-SpyNetter. So lets apply those racial ability adjustments. Then I hear that Rob is going to play a Bothan. Perhaps its something silly in my play style, but I prefer to be “the” Bothan rather than “a” Bothan. I guess I finally have my excuse to play my Sullustan. Upper echelons of the SoroSuub Corporation tech facilities gone wrong makes for a nice beginning as well.
STR - 5 (-3)
DEX - 17 (+3)
CON - 9 (-1)
INT - 18 (+4)
WIS - 11 (+0)
CHR - 13 (+1)
That strength really hurts, and I was not expecting the minuses to the constitution after the racial modifiers. I am going to stay with it, however, it adds well to my idea of a cripple. He is quick, but very, very weak. That weakness will make for a decent backstory.
Bauxton Sree is born. I will spare our loyal audience the methodical and calculating distribution of skill points into pedantic and erudite knowledges for the sake of a game played with very little attention to explosions or experience points.
Now it is just a matter of talking with the other guys, getting some story leads, and weaving a thick background that Jay and Eric can use in their storytelling. Look out for more to come.
In the far-flung provinces of an expansive kingdom, far from the protection or even notice of the royal legions, a mining town is plagued by raiders. Orcs and other creatures not seen in hundreds of years prey upon caravans with impunity. The local leaders, tired of waiting for help from the capital, offer any wandering adventurers a high price to end the attacks. The only lead they have is a report that roving bands have been seen entering a ravine in the region. A series of tunnels carved into the cliffsides in days long gone conceal dangers unknown. They are the Caves of Chaos.
"This is unacceptable. So very disorderly."
Cheesy, sure, but I had some surprises prepared in the event that the characters got far enough to get into the whole backstory thing. They didn't, but as I said before, I didn't have high hopes for the playtest.
That is not to say that I didn't have a good time playtesting the new rules. I'm not crazy about them, but we played a straightforward, hacky-slashy sort of game and got a few Friends (and Widows) of the Kegasus involved for once. We had a good time. It was nice and casual. we could joke and get distracted instead of worrying about medieval-fantastic politics and macroeconomics. The players really just needed to bash in some goblin skulls.
And bash they did.
Sweet Pelor, the players are powerful at first level. They're not the juggernauts they are in 4th edition, but they're still a lot more capable than I expected.
The halfling rogue has a lot of potential. It's hard to say just how effective this class can be from our game because that player had the double disadvantage of suffering terrible luck with the dice and being a total coward. Still, the ability to hide behind almost anything, added to the ability to use the game's powerful "advantage" system when hidden makes a potentially lethal combination. On top of all that, it turns out a small-sized sling now does more damage than a full-sized crossbow did in edition 3.5.
Super Runaway!
The advantage/disadvantage system was something I actually liked. It's elegant and simple yet tactile in a refreshing way for a game in which every possible modification is historically reflected by another plus one or two to the die roll. Whenever you have advantage, you roll two dice and take the higher result, when you have disadvantage, you take the lower. This mechanic is worked nicely into class skills like the rogue's sneak attack.
The dwarf cleric of Moradin worked well enough, but was more of a traditional paladin. One thing I enjoyed was the way the spell "healing word" broke up the natural flow of the character's turn. The cleric could really be a clutch player, rushing from the rear (on his stubby little legs) to join in the battle, dealing melee damage while healing another player in the same turn. This was the class I liked best, I think. The defender skill, which allowed the player to increase his allies' ACs with his shield was a fun way to encourage teamwork and I was glad that our player was very concerned with getting a lot out of it.
A big difference between the 3rd edition we usually play and the new rules is the way a turn works. While you had more options for a turn before, you can now only move and do one thing - with a few exceptions of course. It seemed easier and faster to take a turn when you had fewer options and it was even more satisfying when the exception to the rule was something that made complete sense. The spell "Healing Word" is just a word, he can conjure something like that while moving or fighting, obviously.
The fighter. Honestly, I don't have much to say about the dwarf fighter right now. It's all fine other than the fact that there are some weird calculations going on here and that the fighter always deals damage. As in always, even if he misses. The new fighters deal a small amount of damage even if they fail the hit roll.
Even with a crossbow.
Ok, ok I get it. When you roll a d20 to make an attack, and you don't meet or exceed the target's AC, you're not necessarily missing. Most attacks are done with the strength modifier, so you're not just trying to make contact, you're trying to overpower your foe and penetrate any armor they may be wearing. A brash and strong fighter will always bash and bruise you, I get it.
But with a crossbow?
To be fair, it was probably just an oversight. The word "melee" was missing from the description of the class feature. I can get down with the automatic damage, as it is structured to become less and less valuable as the players and enemies level up. I cannot, and will not get down with a crossbow that hits when it misses.
In my previous post I mentioned how much I hated the powers dynamics in the 4th edition. I have my reasons, and they are rooted both in gameplay dynamics and storytelling logic and if you disagree with them, you're wrong and also you should go to hell.
Well, both the cleric of Pelor and the high elf wizard have what the game calls "minor spells" or "orisions" which are the same as the "at-will powers" in 4th edition. Basically, they get to shoot magic every turn without penalty - as easily as you could swing a sword. Since I've already described why I don't like this dynamic, I'll let someone else speak for me in this situation.
To be clear, I don't dislike everything I saw in the D&D Next playtest. There is a solid game here, but then the character classes come along and do their best to wreck it.
I like that combat is streamlined. We played a full encounter - or more - longer than we would have with D&D 3.5 and that's a good thing. You shouldn't have to spend all night on one fight.
Despite the inflation issues with damage and hit points, (not for the monsters, though, a problem that gave the playtest material a very thrown-together feel), the game appears to have its head in the right place. It's trying to make D&D combat more elegant by borrowing from miniature strategy games.
I guess my biggest sticking point is the constant magic casting. Maybe I stand alone here. Maybe I'm the only one who wants the cleric and wizard to be more than an archer. After the game, Eric and Ryan pointed out that their wizard characters had far fewer spells beyond those minor spells and they felt that the general power level of a wizard was unchanged.
That may be. We honestly didn't play long enough to see that through. However, when we called it a night, they had both used up their more powerful spells and would have had to rely entirely on minor spells in the future.
In a game where the enemies have the same hit point total they did in the seventies, I found I had to work very hard - and indeed be quite ruthless - in order to menace the characters. I'd charge at them, hoping a few of my monstrous warriors would survive the barrage of magic missiles and radiant lances. After the inevitable slaughter my goblins suffered until they got into combat, I could only instruct them to gang up on the most competent fighter in an attempt to at least down one character in the engagement.
But even then, even if I managed to damage one of them enough to take them out, I'd suffered such losses that the others could easily dispatch my warriors and heal the target of my initial aggression.
Did you see what happened there? I got into a little me versus them headspace. That's just not how I like to play these games. A good roleplaying game should give me the tools to create a fun, challenging environment for the players. It shouldn't create an atmosphere where I feel I need to play dirty just to do damage to them.
A DM must be neutral. I'm the storyteller, not the adversary. The DM wins when everyone has fun, not when the players die. (If you didn't know, we discussed this very topic in our first podcast: A DM's Guide to DMing. Also, too, we have a podcast. You can find us at www.swordsofthekegasus.com)
However, after all the shit-talking I've done I have to admit that our semi-benevolent gaming tyrants at Wizards of the Coast seem to have the right idea here. They made a game and let us take a stab at it. I have my problems with it and I'm sure others will as well. This is an ideal situation. They're going to get my feedback, my players' feedback and the petty gripes and legit concerns from all the other people who want to play their game.
You know, the ones who want it enough to, say, talk about it endlessly and make blog posts and podcasts about it.
I'll be honest, I don't have high hopes for this. I'm looking at the upcoming Swords and Friends of the Kegasus playtest session of D&D Next as an opportunity to generate some interesting blog and podcast content.
By the way, did you know we have a podcast? You can check it out on iTunes or at our website - swordsofthekegasus.com.
Just look at these assholes.
I didn't like the 4th edition. Sure, it had something to do with the fact that the characters in my 4th ed. game ripped through the opponents I set before them without breaking a sweat. More important, however, was why they did. The system felt overly concerned with combat and fast-paced action, whereas I always liked a slower game with diplomacy and sneaking. I felt like a first level player had an arsenal more akin to a fourth or fifth level player in previous versions.
But anyway, I've finally found time to read over the material our gaming overlords at Wizards of the Coast have given us and I'm not sure what to think. I initially recoiled at the thought of playing in a setting I did not create. In fact, I immediately launched into imagining a new setting before reading any of the rules. It turns out they don't give you enough core gameplay stuff to get into it that much.
Our usual game has goblin labor unions in it, so maintaining unique gaming environments has become kind of a point of pride.
Anyway, once I'd resigned myself to playing the Caves of Chaos, I was pleased to discover just how much the module allows for personalization and nonlinear gameplay. All I need to do is figure out why the heroes are going there and come up with some cool backstory to explain the gathering of monsters they'll encounter. No problem.
What makes me sad is that my chief complaint about the 4th edition has survived. Both the cleric and wizard sample characters have what they call "minor spells" which they may cast at will, and without preparing. That kind of stuff was what knocked me flat before. I understand that these classes need to be viable on a turn-by-turn basis, but it just kills it for me.
"Ok, you blast 'em all, and we'll just stay here and burn one down."
It kills the magic.
I dislike this for two reasons. First, it completely changes the gaming dynamic traditionally involved with a class like the wizard. He's supposed to suck a little. These new wizards can blast magic missile every turn without getting tired but when you break it down, strip away the narrative trappings, all you get is an archer-type character who dies a little easier and never runs out of arrows.
In a standard encounter, the wizard shouldn't just be the guy in the back row covering his allies in close combat with the enemy. No, he's the guy the rest of them are protecting because he's got a few tricks up his sleeve - not many - but when he uses them, shit gets real. That's the way a spellcaster should work in my book.
Add to that the fact that it cheapens magic as a narrative element. I know a couple of medium-power ranged attacks don't need to be game-changers from a nuts and bolts perspective, but stop and think about what that means to the story and game world. It makes the use of magic such a casual thing that I don't see the need for it. It's about as magical as putting guns in the world.
Hopefully you'll hear from me again soon and I'll let you know how it all went. Until then, keep rolling.
I, Ryan Reed, would like to start with an apology, in the public forum, for having uprooted and thrown such havoc into what was to be a flawless podcast publication schedule. My lady and I have recently moved into a new home without internet access which has kept me (the unfortunately sole Sword with the ability to talk to the internets) from publishing the delicious backlog of shows that have been recorded.
Rest assured, True Believer, as these words are being shot into the great info-void, our dire situation is being remedied. Soon enough we will be publishing Episode Three: Boardgames! for your listening pleasure - setting us back on a regular weekly schedule.
Stay tuned for more information as we spill our bag of tricks.
-Ryan
Saturday, June 2, 2012
The absolute first thing ever is being posted right here.
