by Ted

Recently, commenter @Dirus_Nex asked a rather good question on YouTube, following Episode 72: 

Ted, what is your overall goal as a player when it comes down to the history of AV?

My initial answer was short and sweet, as these things tend to be in the comments section:

Well, just as mapping a dungeon helps you find the hidden parts, knowing the history of the place can help too. If we understand the strata of construction and history of expansion, then we might, for example, know that we still haven't found The Shrine of X or the Room of Thothian Stuff. If we don't know to look for them, we won't, or we won't understand the significance when we do find it. Take the cave with the pillar of EVIL in it. We don't know a damn thing about it. We can find out the hard way, or we can find out the deets from somewhere else and approach it from a place of knowledge.

Later, after thinking about it some more, I thought perhaps the question warranted some further thought and a more detailed answer. Not because the short answer wasn’t enough, but because I enjoyed considering the core concepts and I wanted to explore it a little deeper. I should hasten to add that I am far from the first to ponder these questions. I’ve been reading similar musings from those older and wiser than me for years, but perhaps my own experience can add a new perspective to the question.  I must also acknowledge that none of these ideas could have taken shape without the discussions and rantings between myself and my fellow conspirators of 3d6 DTL (praise unto Jon, Mike, David, and Matt!), who are all a swell bunch of fellows, no matter what anyone else says.

SPOILERS AHEAD! Read at your own peril…

Mapping

Like a good archaeologist (sorry Indiana Jones, but your methodology is awful), the players should map as they explore to be able to visualize the space they are exploring. I’ve already expanded on mapping, both in comments and in the Very Special Mapping Video I did with Jon, but a refresher isn’t a bad idea, especially given the recent work we’ve done in filling in the blanks on our maps.

History

While mapping helps fill in the blanks and makes it more likely that players can find hidden areas or make informed choices about next steps, it is the history that provides the context to a dungeon space. Understanding the history of a dungeon also adds to the corpus of knowledge at the players’ disposal and helps shape party goals and direction of action. A dungeon with no background and no purpose — just a hole in the ground conveniently stocked with monsters and hopefully some treasure — is not only hard to imagine, but also isn’t much more than a gauntlet of danger in which survival mostly depends on the dice.

However, as I have stressed before (did you watch the video?), players who carefully map, look for clues, take notes, and think about the dungeon and its possibilities are taking their survival into their own hands and away from the dice, the best and most essential part of old-school play. For example, once you understand that you are in a necropolis, you can intuit the existence of undead, the likelihood of traps, and the possibility of secret doors and passages. Before entering a wizard’s lair, knowing something about the wizard and why he built a lair in the first place can illuminate its own set of unique risks and hazards. 

For most dungeons, the history of the space is likely to be modest and the need to gather info commensurately modest. Arden Vul is a whopper of a dungeon and therefore must have a lot more history to learn (and to map!). Consequently, the players need to take proportionally more interest and care in learning that history in order to minimize random risk and maximize conscious interaction. Examples abound in our game so far. Take the Regalia, for example. We could blunder around like a bunch of amateurs until we find them, if we ever do. Or we could take care to learn about the Regalia, their use, their history, and use all that to try and extrapolate their location. Of course, we also must know enough to recognize that location when we find it. When we found the Trials of Arden, we thought we had perhaps found the Regalia and we looked accordingly. What we found was equally interesting and our prize might still be down there. 

In the Detox for Episode 72 we discuss the probability that there are multiple periods of construction and expansion. Postulating that the entire site exists because of the presence of aliens tells us that the alien tech is critically important, rather than just being a fun side quest. Similarly, if the chasm appears or is created somewhere in the middle of the site’s history, we should expect to find it cutting through certain areas. Finding areas that appear to conform with the topography of the chasm means that somethings happened after the chasm appears, which in turn means that at some point the chasm became integral to the operations of the dungeon and that we should expect to find some areas that make use of it. We might even find evidence of how or why the chasm came to be, which might tell us something about the power levels of certain adversaries or perhaps certain magic items. 

The point is knowledge is power and it derives from paying attention and understanding your surroundings as much as possible.

Conclusion: Knowledge and consideration of dungeon history increases PC survivability and helps maximize rewards (and not just loot – learning about the mysteries of Thoth is as rewarding as finding gold!). 

Verisimilitude

One of the things I’ve really enjoyed about the Arden Vul setting is the degree of consideration given to back story and the development of the site over time. To me, this adds verisimilitude to the setting, which in turn adds to the experience of playing. I know it’s a bit much to ask for truth and believability from a fantasy setting, but the existence of a dungeon without rhyme or reason to its placement or function has always rubbed me the wrong way. I’m not the first to raise this issue — far from it — and I won’t be the last, I’m sure. In this instance, I think it’s worth revisiting as I think it will add to the discussion of the original question – what are my overall goals?

One of the things I love to do in my own adventure design is to flesh out the space as entirely as I can, often with no expectation that the players will ever care or learn the history. Cities need water – where does it come from and what does that change in the setting? Dungeon monsters need food – where do they get it and what are they willing to do for more? Castles need kitchens – what tools or supplies (or dangers) might there be for PCs in there? These are simple issues with simple answers, but imagine exploring a castle without any kitchen at all. Players would start to wonder where it was and possibly waste time trying to find it thinking that it must be hidden. Mostly, I like how it adds to the scene and how as the story builds, many questions answer themselves, and so on. If A is true, then it follows that B and C are true, which means that D, etc. etc.

For example, imagine that we want to have some tunnels under a city, perhaps similar to the catacombs of Paris. Easy enough. Draw some tunnels on a grid, add some encounters, et voila, you have a perfectly serviceable dungeon. Now, players will start to ask questions about it, sensibly trying to understand the environment to ensure their own survival. In order to answer those questions, I need context. So, perhaps my catacombs were not originally intended as a necropolis, but are in fact the buried strata of old streets as the city has grown over centuries. This implies the existence of buried roads and buildings, and an overall layout that is reflected above. This in turn suggests that there are still places where the tunnels can be accessed from cellars, which implies that the tunnels are used for secret movement, perhaps assassins, and so on. Each details builds the picture and leads to the next. 

In the case of Arden Vul, while there are certainly some questions about just how the Goblins or Beastmen could actually have a functioning economy down there (and besides being fecund, just what do Goblins do all day?), there is clearly evidence of the tremendous amounts of thought that went into the history of the entire setting. The sections aren’t just room after room with random monsters. There is thought and believability about details like changing rooms, public vs private space, ritual, and even the internal politics of the cults. Details like these are engaging and fun to learn and extrapolate from. In every case, we have been rewarded with useful info or hypotheses that help us move intelligently into new areas or go back to reassess old ones (like the murky pond that turns out to be a healing pool!).

Conclusion: Setting verisimilitude enhances the mapping environment and adds to setting history, which in turn increases player interaction which leads to PC survivability.

Overall Goals

My goals as a player and my goals as a PC are not the same and aren’t even entirely in alignment. At the end of the night, I go upstairs and go to bed because I have to go to work in the morning. This is true whether my PC found a pile of coin or was rubbed into paste by a baboon. My goals are to have fun with my friends, explore some dungeons, fight some monsters, and interact in interesting ways with an environment I am exploring. Doing cool stuff and having good ideas to overcome obstacles are as rewarding as getting a bunch of loot. It’s a mental game, with mental rewards. 

Osric had very different goals from me, as did Squeegee, and Mort’s goals remain a mystery to everyone, though there have been some very good guesses/suggestions on the Discord server and in the YouTube comments. Osric wanted to gain knowledge and probably arcane power. Squeegee wanted wealth and wouldn’t have minded a bit of fame. Mort, well, anyone named Mortus J. Gobliano has goals within goals and eyes the long game for sure. Still, I think all PCs share one common goal:

Don’t die.

Osric and Squeegee blew it, and Mort certainly flirts heavily with death on a regular basis. This is a goal we share in real life, I suppose. My point is that old-school role-playing HAS to have the real threat of PC death in order to motivate and drive PCs toward behaviors that have some verisimilitude. Case in point: I once played in a campaign where I had a high hit point PC who routinely used his own body to stop whirling blades, block falling boulders, and other dangerous traps and hazards, because in that campaign hit points were cheap and plentiful. The first time it was fun and funny, but eventually it became just another tool. Poor Hack, he suffered terribly every time I threw his body into the blades, but I didn’t care.

It’s patently ridiculous and steals the nobility and sacrifice of a scenario in which a PC might choose to save the party at the cost of their own life. Remember the wolves in the realm of Frigia? David’s solution to the party escape was tactically great, cinematically exciting, and successful for everyone except Snell. He succeeded in saving the party but at the cost of his own life. Whatever larger goals he had were ended then and there.

Obviously neither David nor Snell did this lightly. There is the investment of time and XP to consider for David, and for Snell the lasting fame of his noble deed is of little comfort to yet another dead PC. 

But those are PC goals, and we are supposed to be talking about Player goals. I’ve already mentioned that my goal is to have fun and do cool and fun stuff, but relative to the question originally posed - what is your overall goal as a player when it comes down to the history of AV? – my goals are expanded somewhat:

My goal as a player is to have fun and do cool stuff by helping the PC do what PCs do.

That means surviving long enough to have fun and do cool stuff, in essence, regardless of whatever individual goals a PC might have. Survival in a setting like Arden Vul means being cautious and canny, which means paying attention and making maps. It means reading the books you find, learning the history of the environment, and it means using that knowledge to know which door to open, which to leave closed, and when to send the retainer in first.

Conclusion: Not being dead increases PC survivability.

So, my overall goals as a player? I think we can sum it up like this:

• In a world where mysterious dungeons, ancient temples, and ruined abbeys filled with monsters and loot exist…

• Where settings have plausible reasons for existing and where those reasons can be learned and used to the advantage of the PCs…

• Where history and knowledge can provide clues and fill in details allowing intelligent and careful exploration on the dungeon space…

• And where settings exist with plausible detail and logical internal consistency…

It then follows that:

• Interacting with the setting by mapping and careful record keeping…

• And interacting with the setting by learning about and from the history of the setting…

• And interacting with the setting by responding and adapting as new knowledge is acquired…

• Gives me as a player and my PC more opportunity to interact successfully and enjoyably, where success is defined as not being dead and able to keep going toward more interactions, more reward, on repeat until it’s time to retire.

Admittedly, this is a very long-winded way of saying I love to play role-playing games and that my goal is to get loot and do cool stuff, but I thinks its because of one of the essential bits of a good RPG is the setting. Its fun to share time with friends exploring the ideas and creativity of a dungeon or world, to enjoy the little details and treasures left behind for us to find or die trying.