The Alexandrian

Posts tagged ‘random gm tips’

Zone of Truth / Magic Circle - d1sk

I can’t do a murder mystery because the PCs will just cast zone of truth!

Awhile back I shared Random GM Tip: Speak With Dead Mysteries, which looks at the particular challenges of designing a murder mystery scenario when the PCs have access to the speak with dead spell (or some similar magical or technological effect). A common follow-up question from people reading this article is, “But what about zone of truth?”

As I mentioned in the original article, you have to start by embracing the fundamental dynamic of a mystery: It’s not to withhold information from the detective(s); it’s about the detective(s) acquiring information.

Insofar as the zone of truth serves as one method that the PCs can use to acquire information, therefore, it won’t be a problem. It will only become a problem if (a) it trivializes all other methods of acquiring information and/or (b) short circuits a specific investigation.

Keeping that in mind, let’s take a closer look.

WHICH ZONE OF TRUTH?

There can be considerable differences in how zone of truth and similar effects work, and this will obviously have an impact on how it affects investigations.

First: Do spellcasters know when the targets of their spells — particularly enchantment spells — make their saving throws?

Personally, I prefer No. (And will often apply this as a house rule even in systems where the answer would be Yes under the rules-as-written or rules-as-intended.) I think pretending to go along with a caster’s domination spell, for example, is a classic genre trope.

This is how zone of truth worked in D&D 2nd Edition and 3rd Edition, and it obviously adds a layer of ambiguity to the spell. (If two people contradict each other, is that just a difference of opinion/belief? Or did one of them make their saving throw? Or both of them?) D&D 5th Edition, on the other hand, adds specific language allowing the caster to know when the spell is in effect, stripping ambiguity.

Second: How often can a character resist the effects of the zone of truth? Do they make a single saving throw when entering the zone? Make a new saving throw every round? Make a saving throw each time they need to make a declarative statement or answer an explicit question?

Once again, D&D 5th Edition’s version of the effect is the most troublesome for mysteries.

Third: Does the target know they’re in a zone of truth before they speak? If so, it allows them to account for the zone in what they say and how they choose to answer questions.

This has been true for every version of the D&D spell. Wonder Woman’s golden lasso, on the other hand, is usually depicted as surprising those bound by it.

Fourth: Does the effect compel the target to answer direct questions? This would obviously also make the spell a much more powerful tool in the detective’s arsenal, but it’s also not how the D&D spell works.

IDENTIFY THE QUESTION

To paraphrase something Margaret Frazer’s Dame Frevisse once said, the secret to solving a mystery is less about the answers you get to your questions than it is knowing what questions to ask and who to ask them of in the first place.

Often when talking about zone of truth mysteries in a hypothetical sense rather than a practical one, it seems people often default to thinking about an Agatha Christie-style murder mystery where there are eight specific suspects isolated on a country estate. In this scenario, with access to a zone of truth, it’s quite easy to identify both the question (Did you kill Bob?) and who you need to ask (the eight suspects).

But this type of scenario isn’t really common in RPGs to begin with: The plotting of these stories depends on the author having tight control over which questions are asked and when they’re asked in order to create a clever logic puzzle, the solution of which can only occur to the detective at the moment of the author’s choosing. Even if you want to prep a plot in an RPG — and you shouldn’t — it’s still basically impossible to force this kind of sequencing at the table.

As a result, RPG mystery scenarios tend to be built around other structures. For example, it’s not unusual for a mystery scenario to begin at a crime scene filled with physical evidence — e.g., the bloody carnage of a worg attack or the pale gray corpse of a vampire killing — and nary a suspect in sight. Before the PCs can start asking questions, they’ll first need to figure out — as Dame Frevisse said — what the questions are.

To put it another way: Zone of truth can’t short circuit the investigation if the investigation is about figuring who you need to question in the first place.

Next time you’re reading a well-made RPG mystery scenario — like Eternal Lies or Quantronic Heat — take note of how rarely NPCs actually lie to the PCs. Even NPCs who are just withholding information aren’t terribly common. In other words, even without a zone of truth, it’s not unusual for every NPC in these scenarios to say nothing but true things, and the scenario still works just fine.

There is one exploit, however, that clever players can use a zone of truth to unlock:

Can you think of anything that would help our investigation if we knew about it?

Given any kind of limited suspect pool, this question can be used as a quick shortcut for identifying the question(s) they need to ask to solve the mystery, so if you don’t want to get caught flat-footed at the table, it can be useful to prep the clever answer your bad guy(s) will use to evade it.

A good, one-size-fits-all solution here is the incomplete answer: They have to speak the truth, so they do, in fact, have to give the PCs something helpful. But it doesn’t have to be everything that they know would be helpful, nor does it need to be the most helpful thing. Stuff that wastes a ton of time while, technically, being useful is a great fit here.

Can you think of anything else that would be helpful?

Clever player.

The NPC can’t say, “No,” of course, but deflecting back to the first answer is usually possible.

Player: Can you think of anything that would help our investigation if we knew about it?

Bad Guy: I’d check the security cameras.

Player: Can you think of anything else that would be helpful?

Bad Guy: Hmm… I really think the security cameras are what you should check next.

GAIN ACCESS

The other crucial thing about deploying a zone of truth is that you need to (a) get the suspect in the zone and (b) get them to answer your questions.

Returning to our Christie-style manor mystery, if seven of the suspects all readily hop into your zone of truth and the eighth suspect refuses, then the jig is probably up. To avoid this problem, you need to have multiple suspects refuse. The PCs may still be able to use the spell (or the threat of the spell) to narrow the scope of their investigation, but not close it.

The reason for refusal might be specific to each character. The most likely explanation would be some dark secret unrelated (or at least not directly related) to the crime that they nevertheless do not want discovered.

Alternatively, it might be a society-wide condition that can be broadly applied. For example, it might be a cultural more that casting an enchantment spell on someone is unacceptably rude or unethical, such that even suggesting it will likely provoke an outraged response. It could even be a matter of explicit law, with the use of such spells being tightly regulated, limited, and controlled.

This touches on another issue, which is whether or not the PCs have the authority to question people. If they’re police detectives, then it will give them an advantage. (Although they’ll also probably have to abide more closely to the aforementioned laws, in which case they may need to do a bunch of legwork before they can deploy their spell.) If they’re just a bunch of random bozos who have wandered into town, it may be a lot easier for the suspect to dodge their calls.

Which leads us to another obstacle to gaining access, which is just literally finding them. Sure, you want to question Bob. But the door to his apartment has been kicked in, the place has been ransacked, and he’s either been kidnapped or is in the wind. In other words, the mystery — or a significant part of the mystery — can just literally be trying to track down the person you want to use your zone of truth spell on.

Of course, in order to find the person you want to question, you first have to identify them. The manor mystery, of course, still assumes that the list of suspects is immediately obvious, but in a lot of mysteries it’s anything but.

For example, you’ve found Bob: He’s been brutally murdered and his corpse dumped in an alley. You can’t question every single person in the city, so you’re going to have to figure out how to narrow down your suspect list first.

Even once you’ve gotten a suspect into the zone of truth, though, access can continue to be a problem if you enforce the time limit. The D&D 5th Edition spell, for example, only lasts for ten minutes. That time can vanish surprisingly quickly, so set a timer.

This can be even more of a limitation in a manor house mystery: How many suspects can you rush through the circle before you run out of spells for the day?

If the PCs are trying to rush bunches of NPCs through their zones and you don’t want to play through every encounter, might rule that each witness requires 2d6 minutes or questioning; or perhaps 1d4+1 minutes if the PCs take disadvantage on their interrogation checks.

DESIGN THE CRIME

Imagine that it’s 1850 and you’re anachronistically GMing a roleplaying game. The science fiction game you’re running describes strange devices known as “security cameras” which record everything that takes place in a room.

“How am I supposed to design a mystery scenario when there are security cameras everywhere?!” you cry. “They can just see who did the crime!”

Modern criminals, of course, simply know that security cameras exist and they plan their crimes accordingly. In many cases, the evidence they leave behind while countering the security cameras will be the very clues detectives use to track them down!

An easy solution, of course, is to say something like, “I drank a potion of anti-enchantment that lasts for forty-eight hours,” thus negating the zone of truth entirely. (A clever criminal, of course, will make sure they have some perfectly reasonable pretext for having done so. An even cleverer criminal will have slipped it into the drinks last night and everyone at the manor house has immunity.)

This sort of stonewalling — where the PCs’ abilities are simply negated — is mostly just frustrating, however. It’s usually more fun to find ways that don’t just completely shut off the spell.

To put our suspect at their maximum disadvantage, let’s once again return to the manor house scenario that takes so many other options (access, identifications, etc.) off the table. This, however, is precisely the situation in which the murderer would anticipate a zone of truth. So how would they plan for that?

  • They would anticipate the question, “Did you kill so-and-so?” and therefore have planned their crime so that they can honestly say, “No,” (e.g., they tricked them into suicide, arranged for a convenient accident, or hired someone else to kill them).
  • They sent a dominated doppelganger disguised as themselves to enter the zone of truth. If the doppelganger’s identity is discovered, the PCs will find the NPC “knocked out” and tied up in their room. Who did this to them?! The mystery deepens. (Meanwhile, the zone of truth has expired.)
  • They covertly trigger a dispel magic effect that destroys the zone of truth, possibly while someone else is being questioned. How many of those spells can you cast today, exactly?
  • They arrange for a distraction. “Can you confirm that your name is Miguel Cavaste?” “Yes.” “Can you—” EXPLOSION. By the time of the chaos of the explosion is dealt with, the zone of truth has once again expired.

And so forth.

CONVERSATIONAL GAMBITS

Taking all of the above into consideration, there will nonetheless come the time when the suspect is in the zone of truth and faced with the PCs’ questions.

Maybe that’s all she wrote: Either they confess dramatically, surrender meekly, or initiate the final action scene by attacking the PCs, summoning reinforcements, or attempting to flee.

On the other hand, maybe not.

Instead, the zone of truth questioning can become a cat-and-mouse game: a final riddle for the players to unravel.

Let’s take a look at the conversational gambits an NPC (or PC!) might use when trapped, literally or metaphorically, in a zone of truth.

We’ve already mentioned giving incomplete answers. Just because you have to say true things, doesn’t mean you need to say EVERY true thing you know. Questions like, “Did you see anything suspicious last night?” gives the suspect a huge latitude in directing the interrogators’ attention towards any number of useful distractions.

They can also answer a question with a question. A question, technically, cannot be a lie. So if they can slip this past the interrogators, it can often create the illusion of a false answer: “Do you think Robert could have done this?” or “I had drinks with Marcia last night… what time was it? Around six?”

Another option is to simply refuse to answer. This, of course, looks suspicious. However, we’ve previously talked about cultural mores (“I plead the fifth!”) and simply feigning outrage (“How dare you ask me that?!”) can deflect or, at the very least, buy time.

On that note, simply rambling, delaying, feigning confusion, or otherwise running out the clock is also a perfectly viable strategy when you know the zone of truth has an unforgiving time limit.

SOLUTION IS A KEY, NOT A CONCLUSION

If you think in terms of node-based scenario design, the goal of any interrogation is to gain a lead that will point you to another node where you can continue your investigation.

As long as this remains true, the zone of truth only provides a key that you wanted the PCs to get in the first place. And therefore, of course, the zone of truth isn’t a problem at all.

So this can also bring us back to some basic first principles in RPG scenario design: Don’t prep the specific things that the PCs will do. Instead, prep a robust, dynamic situation for the PCs to interact with.

If you try to prep a specific thing for the PCs to do, the zone of truth can thwart you by giving them an alternative method of achieving their goal. But if you’ve prepped an interesting situation, then the zone of truth will often just be one more prompt for you to respond to with all the cool toys you’ve made for yourself.

FURTHER READING
Speak with Dead Mysteries
Three Clue Rule

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly - Pistol

Most RPGs have a specialized combat system, and most of those have a formal method of transitioning into the combat system. This usually means triggering some form of initiative system:

  • In D&D 5th Edition, everyone makes an initiative check that determines the sequence in which they take turns declaring and resolving their actions.
  • In older editions of D&D, side-based initiative determines whether the PCs go before or after the bad guys. (And, during their side’s initiative, the PCs and bad guys can take their turns in any order they want.)
  • Infinity and other 2d20 Systems always have the PCs go first (in an order of their choosing), but the GM can spend Heat to have an NPC jump their initiative and take their turn before the PCs’ finish resolving their actions.
  • Feng Shui features an initiative check which places each combatant on the shot clock. The clock is then counted down, with characters taking action each time their shot is reached. The action taken reduces their position by a specific number of shots, determining a new position on the shot clock where they’ll take their next action.
  • Games like Technoir and Apocalypse World, on the other hand, don’t have a system for determining character order. But when a confrontation occurs (to use a term from Technoir), we enter a formal scene in which a character can’t take a second action until all other characters in the scene have taken an action.

And so forth. Regardless of the particular details, the simple “trigger initiative, start combat” procedure tends to very quickly run into a conundrum during actual play: What about an ambush?

Whether it’s the PCs wanting to ambush some bad guys or the GM wanting to have the bad guys ambush the PCs, this is both a pretty basic strategic consideration and a very common dramatic trope, so it’ll usually pop up pretty quick in the combat-drenched pulp adventures of a typical RPG campaign.

As a result, it’s pretty common for RPGs to also feature a system for surprise, which will determine (a) whether or not a group has achieved surprise and (b) what effect that surprise has.

Once again, there can be a lot of variation in the specific mechanics here, but a pretty typical combination is:

  • Making a surprise check (e.g., an opposed Hiding vs. Spot Hidden check).
  • Surprised characters being unable to take action during the first round and/or suffering a penalty to their actions or defense during the first round.

Depending on the system (and sometimes circumstance), surprise might be determined for either the individual or the side, but regardless, these two systems – initiative and surprise – are where most RPGs stop.

And, therefore, also where most GMs stop.

STANDOFFS

Pulp Fiction - Standoff

But it’s not where we’re going to stop.

Let’s consider the classic standoff from cinema: Everyone has drawn their guns. Everyone has their gun pointed at someone else. But no one’s pulling the trigger yet. Tension hangs thick in the air. Maybe there’s a hostage. Maybe one of them is trying to convince the other to join their side.

And then somebody decides enough is enough and they pull the trigger.

Chaos erupts.

But how should we resolve this in the game?

A couple bad solutions that I recommend you avoid:

  • “Everybody can see everybody else, so no one is surprised. Therefore we just roll initiative normally.” …and somehow the guy who literally took the initiative by firing first ends up going last.
  • “The guy who shot first took initiative, so we should ignore the mechanics and he just makes an attack roll.” Is that fair, though? Everyone was literally watching everybody else with a hair trigger.

The truth is that we already have the structure for resolving this action, because the person breaking the standoff trying to get the drop on everyone else: By taking the first shot they are trying to surprise them.

Therefore, we can use the surprise, then initiative structure that our chosen RPG has probably already given us. The only difference is the nature of the surprise: The shot-taker has already been seen by their opponents; they aren’t trying to physically sneak past them, but rather to surprise them in a different way, so we’ll probably want to use a different skill or ability or when making the surprise check.

In D&D 5th Edition, for example, I’d recommend using Insight as the key detection skill (since you’re checking to see if they realize the shot-taker is about to pull the trigger), probably opposed by the shot-taker’s attack proficiency.

Similarly, in Call of Cthulhu, you might use a Psychology or Spot Hidden roll vs. the shot-taker’s weapon skill.

If you wanted to flesh this out a bit, you could also do stuff like:

  • Encourage characters to get into standoff situations by giving characters who DON’T have a weapon drawn during a standoff disadvantage on their initiative check if hostilities break out.
  • If one character has another character at weapon-point, the unarmed character can attempt to draw their weapon by making a Stealth or weapons-skill check. On a failure, the character who has them at weapon-point can initiate combat while automatically gaining surprise. On a success, they now both have their weapons drawn and the standoff continues.
  • In a standoff with multiple characters, you must indicate which opponent you’re training your weapon on. You are at disadvantage for noticing anyone else trying to take the first shot. (This encourages the “swapping your gun from target to target” thing you see in the movies.)

But the core point is the simple shift in the known action resolution structure that allows us to accommodate a completely different situation.

Extra Tip: A common complaint about standoffs in D&D is that, unlike a gunshot in real life, a single attack usually doesn’t carry lethal implications. This is true, but is mostly a question of genre. There are films where a standoff has lethal implications, but also plenty of action films and superhero comics where no one in the audience thinks the direct outcome of “guns bared” will be instant death. (And then one step further to the point where the characters are aware themselves that no fight is likely to end in a single shot/blow.) Depending on edition and level, D&D tends to slide along this scale. And that’s OK.

THE LONG KNIVES

We can find another variant by considering a scene in which the PCs are engaged in tense negotiations… but the negotiations are a trap! In the middle of the scene, the NPCs suddenly draw their weapons and launch a surprise attack!

(Or vice versa. PCs can be a wily and untrustworthy bunch.)

Once again, everyone in the scene is aware of everyone else in the scene. They may even be aware that the other side is bearing arms. But they’re not necessarily aware of the imminent threat.

What I’d recommend here would be an Insight vs. Deception check.

If hidden weapons are involved, we could easily prelude this resolution with Spot Hidden vs. Conceal checks to notice that our scene partners are unexpectedly armed. (Perhaps allowing us to take preventative action and/or gaining advantage on our Insight checks.)

By altering the scene a little bit, we can also consider a situation in which we might use multiple action resolution structures simultaneously: For example, if the NPCs have agents sneaking into position on the shadowy balcony above the negotiations so that, when the moment to attack comes, they will draw their hidden weapons at the same time the archers attack from above, then we might test both Insight vs. Deception (against the negotiators) and Perception vs. Stealth (against the archers) to determine surprise.

DUEL

Yet another variation might be the classic duel: Two gunfighters facing off from opposite ends of a dusty road. A pair of fencers formally squaring off. Two aristocrats firing at ten paces.

Surprise, obviously, is not a factor here, so we can discard that structure.

But what about initiative?

We certainly could use a generic initiative check (e.g., opposed Dexterity checks), but is that the best fit for this specific situation?

For example, might it not make more sense for the gunfighters to make a Shooting vs. Shooting check to determine who gets to take the first shot (i.e., wins initiative)?

We could even use this variant in systems that don’t typically use initiative checks. For example, I mentioned that in Infinity the PCs always go first, although the GM can spend a point of Heat to seize initiative. That might not be satisfying in the case of a duel (since it largely boils down to GM fiat), but there’s absolutely no reason we couldn’t use a face-to-face Ballistics test for this.

CONCLUDING THOUGHTS

The central GM tip here is the alternative structures for resolving:

  • Standoffs
  • Long Knives
  • Duels

But there’s also a deeper truth to be explored here in the universal nature of this advice: That the tip isn’t the specific mechanics, but rather the structures for resolving these actions. These are more universal techniques and skills that allow you to apply your skills as a GM across many different systems.

Not every technique will be useful or applicable to every system, of course. But the reverse is also true: Every system gives you an opportunity to learn new mechanics, and then look for the opportunities to vary and leverage these mechanisms to accomplish even more. (Including, often, more in completely different games.)

Once you start thinking in these terms, you can take it one step further by creating a multitude of sub-variants that reflect the specific actions and intentions of the PCs. For example, I suggested that we could use Insight vs. weapons proficiency to determine surprise in a standoff. But:

  • “I’m going to take my finger off the trigger and start putting my gun down, but as soon as they relax, I’ll take the shot!” That could be Insight vs. Deception instead.
  • “I’m going to create a distraction so that Sasha can take the shot.” That could be Perception vs. weapons proficiency.
  • “While everyone’s focused on the gun I have pointed at James, I’m going to pull my hidden pistol and shoot Jason!” Perception vs. Sleight of Hand.

This flexibility within the structure encourages creativity and specificity from the players as they engage with the game world; it makes the mechanics more accurately reflect the game state; and it creates fun variations in how different scenarios play out.

Are there other ways that combat could start? What ruling would you make? How would you resolve it?

FURTHER READING
Random GM Tip: Collecting Initiative
GM Don’t List: Not Writing Down Initiative
Miss-Initiative

Rushed Viking Warriors - lobard

This is going to be a finesse technique, the kind of hyper-specific tip that’s probably not worth focusing on until you’ve mastered a lot of other skills as a game master. (Like the ones described in So You Want to Be a Game Master.) But it’s a subtlety that I’ve found to have a remarkably out-sized impact on the flow of a session.

Imagine that you’re calling for an initiative check: The players all roll their dice, do the appropriate mathematical rituals for your current system of choice, and immediately begin shouting out their results, often at the same time.

Your mileage may vary, but I often find – particularly with larger groups – that this leads to a lot of confusion. I’ll miss or lose track of numbers as I’m trying to get them all written down, leading to a lot of unnecessary back-and-forth between me and the players. I’ve even had a few cases where I’ve realized I didn’t catch someone’s initiative result and asked them to repeat it, only to discover that the player had forgotten what they rolled!

So the tip here is pretty straightforward: Don’t do that.

What I’ve found is that the groups that run smoothest are the ones who roll their initiative check and then wait for me to individually call for the results.

GM: Initiative checks, please.

(dice are rolled)

GM: Nasira?

Jacqueline: 16.

GM: Tithenmamiwen?

Sarah: 24.

And so forth.

Usually I’ll just go around the table, but you can also read the table pretty easily and start with whoever finishes calculating their initiative first.

For a long while, I was aware that collecting initiatives was really easy for some of my tables, but a clusterfuck for others. Eventually I figured out what the difference was (players waiting to deliver the information in turns rather than all at once) and I started training the players at my other tables to follow suit.

It sounds simple, but the difference it makes is startling.

OTHER GROUP CHECKS

Obviously this same technique may apply to other situations where everyone at the table is making a simultaneous check, but I’ve personally only found it necessary when I need to track and write down the specific check results (or other numbers).

More broadly, it’s useful in any situation where you’re resolving each PCs’ result separately. In the case of the typical initiative check, this resolution is recording the results and sorting them into the initiative sequence. Another example would be checks with multiple degrees of success or failure, where you’re probably going to want to resolve the precise result of each check for each PCs’ result in turns.

For other checks, you may find it more useful to focus on identifying the threshold of the check. In other words, if you know what number each PC needs to roll in order to succeed, you can probably resolve each check result near-instantaneously and mentally keep track of which PCs succeeded.

Of course, in some games this will include initiative, since there’s a wide variety of initiative systems out there. For example, in Numenera initiative is resolved by having the PCs make a Speed check against the level of their opponents: Those who succeed go before the opponents (in any order of their choosing); those who fail go after them. That’s just a threshold and it’s usually straightforward to keep track.

If the PCs are facing mixed opposition of multiple levels, however, it’s possible for some of them to go between the bad guys, and I’ll usually transition back to collecting results in turns. (Or I’ll ask, “Who succeeded at level 5? Who succeeded at level 3?” and collect them in batches.)

BONUS TIP: ROLL INITIATIVE LAST

A related tip that I’ve shared before is that, rather than rolling initiative at the beginning of an encounter, you should instead roll initiative at the end of an encounter, write down the results, and then use them for the next encounter.

(This won’t work in every system, but in most systems initiative modifiers never change, so it doesn’t really matter when you roll the check.)

When it looks like the PCs are about to encounter something, roll for its initiative and slot it into the order. If they don’t encounter it for some reason, no big deal, you can just scratch it out.

Using the technique, by the time combat starts, initiative is already completely resolved, so there’s no delay where you ask for initiative, the dice are rolled, your players tell you the results, then you sort those results into order, and then…

Instead, you can start combat instantly. When the PCs are ambushed, for example, you can deliver the adrenalin-packed punch of the ogre smashing through the wall and immediately roll into the action, instead of deflating that moment with the mundane bureaucracy of collecting initiative scores.

SOFTWARE TOOLS

If you’re playing on a computer or have a computer at hand while playing at the table, then VTTs, spreadsheets, and other software tools can often be used to automatically generate, sort, and otherwise manage initiative scores.

The only limitation I’ve found when using these tools is that, if I have a laptop at the table, it’s usually because there’s some other utility that I’m using the screen for (e.g., searching PDF rulebooks, accessing stat blocks, etc.). I generally want the initiative information in a combat encounter at my fingertips, so I don’t want to be tabbing through windows trying to find my list. Make sure to take this into account when setting up your software tools.

FURTHER READING
GM Don’t List: Not Writing Down Initiative
OD&D Combat Sequence

Rogue Assassin - Digital Storm (edited)

The concept of a “passive Perception score,” although somewhat derived from the Take 10 mechanics of 3rd Edition, was introduced in the 4th Edition of D&D. The basic concept is that, instead of having the PCs make Perception checks to see whether or not they spotted something, you pre-calculate a static value (10 + their Perception modifier) and simply compare that score to the DC of the Perception task.

Frankly speaking, it’s a bad mechanic that got even worse in 5th Edition.

First, there’s no variation in result: PC A will always have a higher score than PC B, so PC B will never spot something PC A doesn’t see. This not only eliminates novelty (which can be valuable in its own right), the lack of variety is also inherently stultifying, making it more difficult for different players to take the lead in reacting to different situations.

Second, it combines poorly with bounded accuracy. The basic concept of bounded accuracy is that you push all the DCs into a small range with the expectation that the d20 roll will be relevant and then remove the d20 roll. The Dungeon Master’s Guide, for example, says “if the only DCs you ever use are 10, 15, and 20, your game will run just fine.” But any 1st-level group, of course, will almost certainly have multiple PCs with a passive Perception score higher than 15.

Which brings us to the biggest problem, in my opinion, which is that in actual practice the whole thing is a charade. You, as the DM, will very quickly learn what the highest passive Perception score in your group is, which means that whenever you’re deciding what the Perception DC is, you’re really just deciding whether or not the DC is going to be higher or lower than the party’s score.

There’s nothing wrong with GM fiat, per se, but the passive Perception score ends up being this weird fake mechanic with a bunch of extra bookkeeping trying to mask what’s really happening. “No, no,” says the DM. “I didn’t arbitrarily decide you didn’t spot the trap! I decided that the DC to spot the trap was higher than your passive Perception score! Totally different!”

So, personally, I recommend that you don’t use D&D’s passive Perception scores. For a better way of handling perception-type checks — which can be used in a wide variety of RPGs, not just D&D — I recommend checking out Rulings in Practice: Perception-Type Tests.

With that being said, if you nevertheless want or for some reason need to use D&D’s passive Perception score, there are some best practices you can follow to do so to best effect.

MAKE A LIST

Ask your players for their passive Perception scores, write them down on a Post-It note, and attach that Post-It note to your GM screen.

This may seem obvious, but I’ve played in any number of games where the DM was constantly asking us what our passive Perception scores were, and there’s absolutely no reason for it. Collect them once, then use them instantly every time. Both the pace and the focus of play will be immensely improved.

Random Tip: While you’re doing this, go ahead and grab the PCs’ armor class, too.

Watch out for changing Perception scores. Some spells, abilities, and magic items may modify a character’s Perception score, grant them advantage on Perception checks, or the like. You’ll need to make sure to track this. (And, of course, you’ll also want to make sure you update your list when the PCs level up.)

In some groups, you may also discover that your players challenge surprise. When players see the mechanics being invoked, even if that’s just the DM asking for their passive Perception score, they’ll accept the outcome; but if it’s all being done invisibly behind your DM screen, some players will worry that they’re getting screwed over. “Did you remember that I have advantage on Perception checks in forests?”

The best way to handle this is to (a) make sure you’re getting it right, (b) reassure them, and (c) if it continues, have a transparent discussion about why you’re handling the passive Perception checks this way and how you’re doing it. You might find it effective to make a point of confirming their passive Perception scores at the beginning of each session, and you can also ask them to notify you whenever their passive Perception scores shift during a session.

(The next technique can also help with this, since they’ll at least hear the mechanics being invoked.)

REMEMBER DISADVANTAGE

One of the most overlooked rules in D&D 5th Edition is that characters who are “distracted” are supposed to be at disadvantage on their passive Perception checks, which means that they should suffer a -5 penalty on their passive Perception score.

I recommend applying this aggressively in any situation where the PCs are not explicitly keeping watch and/or paranoid. Creeping down a dungeon passageway in hostile territory? On watch at night? You specifically said you were going to keep a lookout on the door while Arathorn ransacks the room? Great, you get your normal passive Perception score.

Arathorn, though? Apply the penalty. Also apply the penalty if the PCs are just walking down the street in a friendly city without any expectation of trouble or hanging out at a tavern with their friends.

In practice, this blunts the problems with how bounded accuracy interacts with passive Perception scores. It also encourages the players to be more specific with how they interact with and observe the world, instead of just coasting through the game on auto-pilot. (This is particularly important in making traps work right, for example.)

ROLL THE DC

You can sidestep the system being a camouflage of busywork for DM fiat by assigning a modifier and then rolling the DC of the check instead of assigning a static DC.

Basically take the DC you would have assigned (10 = Easy, 15 = Moderate, 20 = Hard, etc.), subtract 10, and use the remainder as the modifier for a d20 roll. (You can do the same thing with prewritten adventures that list a static DC.)

This is what you already do with Stealth checks, of course, but it may feel weird doing it for something like noticing the rune faintly inscribed on the ceiling.

The point, of course, is to reintroduce variability to the check so that you can make non-fiat rulings. (For example, I can decide the run is moderately difficulty to notice with a +5 check; but I don’t know whether or not the rogue with a passive Perception score of 18 will spot the rune or not.) But you nevertheless retain most of the advantages of using passive Perception scores, because you’re not making a roll for every individual PC (which would be time-consuming and also have a drastic impact on the probability of the check.)

RANDOM SPOTTING PRIORITY

Once the Wisdom (Perception) DC is set, you’ll know which PCs, if any, successfully noticed whatever the target of the check was.

If there are multiple PCs who succeeded on the check, randomly determine which of them noticed the target first.

This is a simple way of systemically spreading the “spotting something” spotlight around, giving different players an opportunity to call attention to a cool tapestry, sneak a gem into their pocket, or determine what the group’s reaction to approaching goblins might be.

Is this “fair” to the PC with the highest passive Perception score? Frankly, yes. Note that they’ll still get spotting priority more often than anyone else in the group, because (a) they’ll participate in more spotting priority checks than other PCs and (b) there will be some checks where they’re the only PC to succeed.

Alternative: If it’s a combat situation — or a potential combat situation — you might use Initiative checks to determine first spotter.

VARIANT: LET PERCEPTION RIDE

An alternative method for passive Perception scores would be to have the group roll Perception checks at the beginning of a delve, raid, or session and then let the result ride as their passive score for the run.

This means that for some sequences the rogue will have the highest passive Perception score and in other sequences it will be the barbarian or the wizard. It will move around the table, creating variable outcomes over time.

VARIANT: TAKE 0

To lessen the importance of passive Perception without completely eliminating it, base passive Perception scores on Take 0 instead of Take 10. In other words, a character’s passive Perception score is simply equal to their Wisdom (Perception) modifier.

Particularly at Tier 1, this will mean that passive Perception may not even succeed at Easy tasks. That’s okay, because in surprise situations you’ll be calling for a rolled Wisdom (Perception) check in these cases. It will also encourage the players to make active Perception checks, engaging with the environment to find stuff instead of just relying on their passive scores to take care of it.

In practice, when using this variant, you’re really just keeping a list of the lowest possible Wisdom (Perception) check possible, so you know the threshold at which it becomes pointless to roll the dice and you should just tell the PCs what they see.

Remember, of course, that this also applies to the NPCs.

Alternative: Base passive Perception on Take 5, so the score is 5 + the character’s modifier. Combined with consistently applying disadvantage for distraction, this will often create a baseline similar to Take 0, but with passive Perception still having a bit more of a meaningful role in the system.

Medusa - Dungeon Master's Guide (Wizards of the Coast)

Let’s talk about encounter balance.

A common misconception is that the challenge rating system in D&D is meant to guarantee specific encounter outcomes: The CR = X, therefore the encounter will end with precisely Y resources depleted.

This isn’t really true. Furthermore, I would argue that it’s not possible for any challenge rating system to accomplish this (unless you so thoroughly constrain player choice as to choke out the creative heart of an RPG), because a challenge rating system is inherently limited in the systemic knowledge it can have about a specific encounter.

Factors beyond the scope of 5th Edition’s challenge rating system, for example, include:

  • Players’ tactical skills
  • Variance in character builds
  • Environment
  • Encounter distance
  • Stat block synergy (in both PCs and opponents)
  • Equipment
  • Random dice rolls

(I frequently get static on listing random dice rolls here: “But probability!” Yes, probability exists. But, first, the number of dice rolls in a single fight are often too few for probability to become truly relevant — for the results to conform to the expected value — except over multiple encounters. And, second, the entire point of random dice rolls is to have random outcomes. QED.)

Does this mean that the challenge rating system is pointless?

Not at all. The function of the challenge rating system is to help the DM identify monsters and build encounters that are in the right ballpark. Our first hot take today is that the challenge rating system is actually pretty effective at doing that. And, furthermore, that’s all it needs to do and, arguably, all that it should do.

Despite this, DMs are constantly lured by the siren call of hyper-precision: If we could just account for every single variable, we could guarantee specific outcomes! We wouldn’t even need the players at all! Their choices wouldn’t matter!

(That, by the way, is why this is not actually a desirable goal, even if it was achievable.)

There are several reasons for this.

Partly, it’s the allure of false precision: If we have a Challenge Rating Table, then the designers need to put numbers on the table. And no matter how many times they use words like “maybe” or “might” or “roughly” in describing the function of that table, this can create the expectation that hitting that precise number is important. (In reality, the difference between a 1,600 XP and 1,700 XP encounter is essentially nonexistent.)

The labels applied to different encounter levels also seem prone to misinterpretation. I find this varies depending on the methodology used for the label. In the case of 5th Edition D&D, the designers have generally chosen a label which describes the worst case scenario. For example, a “Deadly” encounter doesn’t mean “this encounter is likely to result in a TPK.” It actually means that there’s a risk you’ll see at least one PC making death saving throws. (You can think of the possible outcomes of an encounter as being mapped to a bell curve: The outcome of an 8th-level encounter might, in actual practice, be the average result of anything from a 4th-level encounter to a 12th-level encounter. The 5th Edition label is generally describing a result somewhere a little off to the right side of the bell curve.)

But the final factor is linear campaigns.

THE PROBLEM WITH LINEAR CAMPAIGNS

I’m occasionally accused of hating linear campaigns. This is not the case. I dislike predetermined plots, but that’s not the same thing. I’ve actually talked in the past about how to design linear campaigns, and in So You Want To Be a Game Master I actually have several chapters and adventure recipes for creating linear scenarios.

(A linear scenario is also not the same thing as a railroad. It’s accurate to say that I loathe railroads, and everything I talk about here is probably ten times more true if you’re railroading your players.)

There are, however, consequences for using a linear structure. (Just as there is for using any structure.) This is particularly true if you only use linear structures, which can be the unfortunate case for many DMs who don’t have alternative scenario structures in their repertoire.

A linear scenario inherently means that you, as the DM, are preparing a specific sequence of experiences/scenes/encounters/whatever you want to call them. The players will experience A, then they will experience B, then they will experience C, and so forth.

A consequence of this style of prep, therefore, is that the DM is solely responsible for what the PCs will be doing. This creates an enormous pressure on the DM, because you’d better get it right: You’d better get the spotlight balance right and make sure that every single PC has an equal chance to shine, because otherwise you’re making it difficult or impossible for one of the players to participate. And you’d better get the combat balance right, because forcing the players into fights they can’t win is a dick move.

So the DM will, naturally, spend more effort carefully crafting each encounter to make sure it works. Ironically, the more specific their prep becomes for each situation, the more weight is placed on their shoulders to make sure they get it right. This can quickly decay into a vicious cycle, with the DM pouring more and more effort into every single encounter in order to meet ever-rising expectations. The result is often My Precious Encounters™, in which every encounter is lovingly crafted, carefully balanced, painstakingly pre-constructed, and utterly indispensable (because you’ve spent so much time “perfecting” it).

… and then the challenge rating system isn’t hyper-precise and the players mop up the whole thing with a couple of quick spells?!

This is an outrage!

I guess we’ll just need to lock down more choices, get out the shackles, and try even harder next time guarantee the encounter works exactly as we predetermined it should.

NON-LINEAR BALANCE

Some of you reading this may be thinking, “Okay… but what’s the alternative?”

And when I say that the alternative is non-linear scenarios, your gut reaction is likely to be, “You mean design even more encounters? And the players might not even encounter some of them? I can’t do that! Do you know how much work I put into these encounters?!”

In truth, however, non-linear design is a completely different paradigm: The players are now able, to at least some extent, choose the experiences they’re going to have. And because the players now have responsibility for what they do and how they do it, that weight is lifted from the DM’s shoulders.

Looking at just the issue of combat balance, for example, if the PCs run into an encounter in a linear adventure that they can’t defeat, that’s a disaster! They can’t move forward unless they defeat the encounter, and they can’t defeat it, so they’re completely stuck. It’s as if they lived on an island and the only bridge to the mainland was closed for construction.

In a non-linear scenario or campaign, on the other hand, if the PCs run into an encounter they can’t defeat (or which they just think they can’t defeat or which doesn’t look fun to them), then they can just change direction and find a route around that encounter. Or, alternatively, go and do something else until they level up, gain magic items, make allies, or otherwise become powerful enough to take out the challenge that was previously thwarting them.

You can see an analogous set of paradigms in video game RPGs: Some will allow players to grind XP, allowing them to dial in the mechanical difficulty they’re comfortable dealing with at their level of skill. Other CRPGs will level up the world around the PCs or limit the total amount of XP they can earn. The former games can appeal to a broader range of skill levels and the designers have a lot more leeway or flexibility in how they design the challenges in the game. The latter games have a lot less flexibility, and players can end up completely stuck (due to lack of skill, a mistake in their character build, disability, or any number of factors).

LINEAR BALANCE WITH MILESTONES

Four Adventurers

Okay, but you want to run a linear adventure. Maybe that’s the best structure for the campaign you’ve got planned. Maybe you’ve picked up a published adventure that uses a linear structure and it’s just not working: It’s too easy or it’s too hard, and you want it just right.

Fortunately, there’s an incredibly powerful tool you can use for balancing linear campaigns: Milestone leveling.

The trick is that you just need to ditch the idea of hardcoding the level ups to specific beats in the campaign. Instead, after each scenario, do an assessment of how your encounter balance is working in actual practice:

Are the players cruising through stuff? Increase the difficulty of encounters. If you’ve been designing 6th-level encounters, bump them up to 7th-level encounters. (You can also change the balance of Easy/Medium/Hard/Deadly encounters you’re using, or do half-step bumps in XP budgets between levels.)

Are the players feeling challenged? You’re in the sweet spot. You can hold in that sweet spot for X sessions, with the number X being adjusted to your personal taste. Then you can start increasing the difficulty by steps again until…

Are things getting really tough for the PCs? Level them up (without immediately shifting encounter difficulty) and then assess.

One thing to be aware of is that this doesn’t work great for 1st-level characters, which are very fragile (and kind of need special treatment when it comes to encounter building in general).

Another thing to keep in mind is that you need to miss very low and for a very long time for “too easy” to ruin your campaign; you only have to miss once for “too hard” to TPK the group. So, when in doubt, you’re generally better off aiming low and then adjusting up.

You’ll also likely discover that sometimes PCs will level up, feel like they’re in the sweet spot, and then suddenly everything gets easier and they’re cruising through encounters that are too easy. What’s likely happened is that the players have figured out how their new abilities work (and, importantly, work together), allowing them to perfect their tactics.

You can see the opposite effect happen if the PCs have been fighting one type of monsters for awhile, but then the campaign shifts and they’re suddenly fighting completely different monsters. Experienced difficulty may momentarily spike until they get a feel for the new creatures.

It’s also not a bad idea to check in with the players periodically and see how they’re feeling about the difficulty level in the campaign. They won’t always be right, but neither will you, so comparing notes can help you find the sweet spot for your group.

“Hey! Isn’t that actually Level Advancement Without XP?” Sorry, folks. The ship sailed on this one back in 2014 when every single official adventure started referring to “you pick events in the campaign when the characters level up” as milestone XP. “Milestone” is just too convenient a term for the form of level advancement best suited to these linear adventures. If you have any complaints about this, please address them to Wizards of the Coast.

LINEAR BALANCE WITHOUT MILESTONES

“But I don’t want to use milestone XP! I want to give XP for combat!”

… you just want to make things difficult, don’t you?

That’s okay. Once you understand the principles described above, you can accomplish the same effect with combat/challenge-based XP, it will just be a little more obfuscated.

Specifically, with XP awards, the PCs will be gaining levels at a certain pace. If they’re cruising through encounters, you just need to increase the difficulty of the encounters they’re facing at a faster pace than the pace they’re leveling at. (So in the time they’ve gone from 6th to 7th level with everything feeling too easy, the encounters you’re building will have gone from 6th level to 8th level or maybe even 9th level. Or, conversely, if the encounters have been too tough for them, you might hold the encounter design at 6th level even though they’ve leveled up to 7th.)

In other words, it’s the same process of dialing in: It’s just made slightly more complicated by the PCs being a moving target.

OTHER FAQs

“Doesn’t this mean that my 7th-level PCs could end up facing, I dunno, 11th-level encounters?”

Quite possibly. Or your specific group of 7th-level PCs might be better served by 5th-level encounters. If it makes you feel better, even by-the-book 11th-level Medium encounters are actually easier than 7th-level Deadly encounters, so you’ve probably already been doing this.

More importantly, these are just arbitrary numbers. The important thing is that you and your players are having fun: If your players are really good at tactical planning or they’ve managed to get their hands on an unexpectedly powerful magical artifact, that can easily mean that they’re capable of punching above their by-the-book weight-class.

And you know what? That sounds fun to me!

“I’m running a published adventure. How do I ‘increase the difficulty’? Do I need to rebuild the encounters?”

Instead of adjusting encounter difficulty, just skip the next milestone level suggested by the scenario. You can see a similar technique in Random D&D Tip: Adjusting Encounters by Party Size.

“Couldn’t I use these same principles when designing non-linear scenarios or campaigns?”

Absolutely!

For scenarios, you’re generally targeting a certain difficulty in your encounter design regardless of whether it’s a linear or non-linear scenario. This technique is about dialing in what your current target should be in the challenge rating system, so it works just as well either way.

For a non-linear campaigns, you want to avoid the potential pitfall of leveling up the campaign world. So if you’ve got a structure like a megadungeon or hexcrawl, where the players can already dial in their preferred difficulty level, this technique probably isn’t going to be particularly useful. But it can find application in some node-based campaigns and freeform sandboxes.

FURTHER READING
Revisiting Encounter Design
The Many Types of Balance
Fetishizing Balance
The Death of the Wandering Monster
Adversary Rosters

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