DISCUSSING
In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 36A: The Knighting of Tor

And in this way, Tor did service upon the Eight Stations and swore the Eight Oaths. The gathered knights lowered their blades and Sir Gemmell laid his own blade upon Tor’s shoulders.

“Rise, Sir Torland.”

A procession was then formed, led by the priests and followed by Sir Gemmell and Sir Tor. They passed through the gates of the Godskeep and then into the inner passages. Tor was guided by a secret way into the basement of the keep itself, and there taken to a chamber where the Statue of Vehthyl stood.

Here the last of the water from the cups of mithril were washed across the feet of Vehthyl and into a final cup of taurum. And from this Tor drank deep.

I’ve previously discussed how I design fictional rituals for my game worlds.

But why would you want to do this? Why not just say something like, “You go to the Godskeep in the morning and, in a formal ceremony in front of all the other knights, Sir Lagenn begins the ritual of officially knighting you… but then Rehobath shows up.” Isn’t that enough detail to play through the scene? Is it really worth your time to invent an entire religious ceremony?

The truth is that it often will be more than enough, and there’ll be no reason to recite an entire liturgy or script a full sermon just because the PCs happen to be walking through a church.

Conversely, though, there are also a lot of situations in which I think it’s absolutely worth the extra effort.

It can emphasize a moment or, alternatively, reflect and respect the emphasis which is already being given to a moment. In this session, for example, Tor is achieving — through perhaps the unlikeliest series of events — major goal that his player had set for the character when she created him. That’s huge! We don’t want to just toss that moment away; we should revel in it and make it feel like a real payoff.

Along similar lines, you can also use rituals like these as a reward. In some cases, just the experience of the ritual itself will be rewarding in its own right, but it’s also quite possibly to build literal mechanical or material rewards into the ritual. For example, perhaps joining an organization gives you access to unique character abilities. Or perhaps every knight receives the magic sword with which they were knighted as a gift.

Rituals can also serve as exposition. Having the players actually roleplay through a call-and-response ritual, for example, is a great way to get them to actually focus on and care about that content. Rituals in the real world have a wide reach and can touch every aspects of our lives, so whether you want to establish facts about religion, history, politics, or even just daily life, it’s pretty easy to find a way to inject that stuff into a ritual.

Similarly, rituals can also set up or emphasize the themes of your campaign. If you’re playing in a campaign that emphasizes oathbreaking, for example, then getting your players to literally swear oaths is a pretty literal invocation of theme. Or you might build a ritual around a legendary tale in which the Trickster God deceived his mother.

For an example of this from another medium, consider the final montage in The Godfather, in which Michael Corleone is show baptizing his child at the same time that he’s having the rival mob bosses assassinated.

This example from The Godfather also shows us how rituals can be a great way of structuring a scene: The cuts between baptism and murder provide a staccato rhythm and regularity to the sequence. (I’ve also talked about this scene in Scenario Structure Challenge: The RPG Montage, if you’d like a more detailed look at how you can pull off similar effects at the gaming table.)

Of course, a montage is not the only way you can use the ritual as a structure. For example, I once ran an exorcism scenario in which the PCs had to (a) research the ritual required for exorcism and then (b) actually perform the ritual during the final scene. The trick was that at least one PC (and player) had to be chanting at all times or the ritual would fail, but there were, of course, a bunch of things that would be interfering with their ability to do that. So, in practice, the scene became structured around the players swapping in and out of the ritual, while also trying to deal with all the demonic incursions and other interference that was happening throughout the ritual.

Campaign Journal: Session 36B – Running the Campaign: Secrets of the All-Key
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

DISCUSSING
In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 35C: Ambush in the Banewarrens

“My friends! To arms! To arms!”

“There’s something wrong!” Tee took off running down the hall.

Agnarr and the freshly boot-enhanced Tor both passed her easily in the race out of the Banewarrens. Coming back up the tunnel leading to the antechamber, however, they came up short in front of a wall of seemingly impenetrable darkness. A few moments later, the others caught up to them. Even Tee’s elven vision couldn’t penetrate its unnatural depths. And everything beyond it was eerily silent.

Then Tee heard heavy footsteps approaching them from out of the darkness… but as those footsteps emerged into the passage, there was still nothing to be seen. Tee whipped her dragon pistol up and fired.

The shot missed.

I’ve previously discussed prepping scenario timelines. The short version is that when you have an evolving situation in your campaign and you’re not sure exactly when the PCs will re-engage with it, the best way to prep that situation is often a timeline of upcoming events — e.g., on the 18^th the bad guys will rebuild the south wall; on the 19^th the bad guys will hire mercenaries to reinforce the compound; on the 20^th they’ll hire an assassin to hunt down the PCs; etc.

When the events from this timeline would directly intersect the PCs, I’ll copy the appropriate entry into the Events section of my campaign status document.

Which leads us to the current installment of the campaign journal.

As I mentioned last week in Running the Campaign: Weaving the Background, the events described in this installment of the campaign journal are being driven by this Event:

09/18/790 (11 PM): GQT2 comes to Nibeck Street mansion. (BW Status)

To decode that a bit:

• GQT2 stands for Grail Quest Team 2. The grail quest teams are dispatched by the Pactlords of the Quaan to find the Black Grail (which they believe lies within the Banewarrens). After the PCs wiped out GQT1, the Pactlords assembled a second team to send in.
• BW Status means “Banewarrens Status.” This is a cross-reference to another section of the campaign status document where I’ve collected all of the Banewarrens-related updates, events, etc. (In addition to the GQT2 material in this section, at this time there were also sub-sections tracking the Malignant Crystal, Umber Hulk, and Thought Stalker.)

So this entry is:

1. Letting me know that something is happening in the campaign world that might be immediately significant to the PCs. (Because (a) they have an alarm spell in the Banewarrens and/or (b) they might be in the Nibeck Street mansion, Kalerecent’s cave, or the Banewarrens themselves and directly interact with the Pactlords.)
2. That there’s additional details about this event that I should reference in “BW Status.”

And if we flip over to “BW Status,” here’s the full entry on the GQT2:

GQT2:

9/18/790 (5 AM): [SPOILER] arranges for Kularas’ escape. Kularas returns to the Belfry.

09/18/790 (11 PM): The GQT2 + Kularas goes to the Nibeck Mansion and scouts carefully, trying to determine if the PCs are present.

• If they are, they’ll pull back to the mansion and lay an ambush (which they’ll flee from quickly if it appears to be going badly). If forced to abandon the ambush, they’ll put a watch on the mansion and then go in when the PCs are known to have left.
• If they aren’t, they all attack Kalerecent and move into the Broken Seal area. They’ll stay in the Broken Seal area until late on 9/19/790, trying to figure out some way through the Sealed Door. They’ll check back every two days until 9/29/790, when they’ll return with another wish spell to open the door (which they’ll go through, knowing that Kikanuile has a ring to get them back out).

If they learn of the Banewarrens’ key from [SPOILER], they’ll start trying to figure out where it might be, too. This will eventually lead them to Alchestrin’s Tomb. (With their resources, they’ll actually know that Alchestrin had the key at one time.)

The last paragraph here are, as you can kind of see, just notes I’ve made about potential future actions of the Pactlords. I haven’t taken time to work these out in detail, however, because I think it’s likely that the PCs will interact with the Pactlords — directly or otherwise — on the 18^th, which will change the direction of everything that comes after. (There’s no sense wasting time prepping a bunch of stuff that will just get thrown away.)

So how do you know how far ahead you should prep? Honestly, that’s as much art as science. You’re partly making a best guess about what the players will want to do. (In this case, I think it’s very likely that they’ll be coming back to the Banewarrens sooner rather than later.) And, if in doubt, you can also be guided by how far you think the PCs could conceivably get in the next session. (It’s incredibly unlikely in the In the Shadow of the Spire campaign, for example, that we’re suddenly going to start rushing through multiple days in a single session, so if I have any doubt about how things might turn out, there’s little reason to push a timeline out more than 1-2 days in advance.)

Ideally, though, you’re looking for the event horizon: The point beyond which you know that you can’t see the outcome.

And this session is a great example of exactly WHY you want to find the event horizon: Because the PCs will inevitably blow up your timeline.

BLOWING UP THE TIMELINE

And that’s OK. The reality is that these timelines are designed to be blown up.

In this case, though, I definitely thought I knew how these events were going to play out: I thought it was actually very unlikely that the PCs would be in the Banewarrens at 11 PM when the GQT2 showed up. In their discussions they’d put a little too much faith in their alarm spell to warn them of trouble while they were looking for the Banewarrens’ key and:

• that alarm wouldn’t warn them if Kalerecent was attacked; and
• I already knew they were actually spending most of their time outside range of the alarm

So I figured the outcome here was pretty inevitable: Kalerecent, the lone guardian of the Banewarrens, would be ambushed by the Pactlords, hopelessly outclassed, and killed. Which would be great, because it would leave the Banewarrens unguarded, allowing all the different factions interested in the Banewarrens or about to become interested in the Banewarrens — the Pactlords, the Vladaams, the Church, etc. — to send in delving teams, transforming the dungeon into a dynamic and ever-evolving landscape that the PCs would find altered every time they returned.

I didn’t know exactly when the PCs would figure out that the Pactlords had killed Kalerecent and breached the Banewarrens again (which is why I positioned the timeline event horizon where I did), but I knew where the campaign was headed.

… except, of course, I didn’t.

Because the players looked over their notes, looked at the map of Ptolus hanging on the wall, and abruptly realized what I had realized: The alarm spell has a 1-mile radius, and the Ghostly Minstrel — where they slept at nights — was just outside the range.

They panicked and assumed they were already too late: The alarm had probably already been triggered, Kalerecent was dead, and who knew what terrible things were happening in the Banewarrens.

And so they immediately decamped to go see how bad things had gotten.

Except I looked at my campaign clock: They’d realized their error literally an hour before the Pactlords returned. So they checked in, saw everything was fine, recast the alarm spell, and then… stood around chatting about things.

As a result, they were just a couple rooms away when the Pactlords ambushed Kalerecent and the PCs were able to drive off the Pactlords and save Kalerecent.

THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING

Looking back on this 150+ sessions later, the impact this had on the campaign is kind of mind-boggling to me.

Not only did Kalerecent not die here, as I had felt so sure he would, he’s still alive today. The PCs arranged for other knights of the Order of the Dawn to join him in his watch, and made sure they had the supplies and resources they needed to keep the Banewarrens sealed.

Rather than a multi-party dynamic dungeon crawl (although there’s still a bit of that), the story of the Banewarrens in my campaign has instead largely been a bloody and inventive siege. (With, if I do say so myself, some incredibly clever play on both sides of the table.)

Not only have the defensive forces grown and multiplied, but the decision to bring in more members of the Order of the Dawn tangled the Banewarrens even more deeply into the politics surrounding the schism of the Church.

Eventually some of these knights would actually become PCs played by a second group of players running in tandem with the original group!

Of course, the alternative to all this would have been for me to simply decree:

The next time the PCs come to the Banewarrens, the Pactlords have killed Kalerecent.

A static, linear, guaranteed outcome.

But, honestly, where’s the fun in that?

Campaign Journal: Session 36A – Running the Campaign: Using Rituals
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

DISCUSSING
In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 35B: Letters of Mysterious Motive

Tor was deeply concerned by the missive from the Order of the Dawn.

“Could he suspect? But if he was going to kill me, why would he send me a note?” Tor shrugged. “Of course, the last time I tried to think my way through this sort of thing, I ended up over-thinking it.”

I use a campaign status document to keep track of the loose threads, NPC actions, faction agendas, backdrop events, and everything else that goes into bringing a reactive and dynamic campaign to life.

This session is a great example of how you can take material from your campaign status document and weave it together into a complex and compelling session for your players. To follow along, though, you’ll first need to understand the various materials I’ve prepped for the In the Shadow of the Spire campaign:

• Campaign Status Document, the details of which we’ll be diving into shortly.
• Scenarios, which are probably largely self-explanatory. The overall campaign structure is node-based (with a subset of megadungeon-structured scenarios), so I also have a Campaign Revelation List which shows how all of the scenarios are connected to each other via clues. (This campaign is old enough that this document is still referred to as the “Adventure Track.”) The scenario notes themselves are divided into the separate acts of the campaign, and Act II into three subsections: Banewarrens scenarios, Night of Dissolution scenarios, and Chaos Cult (I use this division when organizing scenario files on my hard drive. I also have separate three-ring binders for each scenario type — so I have a Banewarrens binder, a Chaos Cult binder, and a Night of Dissolution binder at the table, although I believe at this point in the campaign, the CC and NOD scenarios were still in the same binder.) These scenarios are further indicated by an alphanumeric code, so NOD3 is the Surgeon in the Shadows, for example, while BW05 is the Outer Vaults of the Banewarrens.
• Backdrop Files, which I discuss in the Smart Prep Each backdrop file provides a focused breakdown of ongoing background events that are related to each other. I maintain a number of these for the In the Shadow of the Spire campaign, but the two relevant for the current session are Backdrop 1: Balacazar vs. Killraven and Backdrop 2: Novarch in Exile. (At this point, the latter of these has begun transitioning out of being purely background material because the PCs keep getting involved with church politics.)
• Interludes, which are scenarios unconnected to the primary campaign structures. This is a mix of one-off events, scenarios created by the players pursuing agendas of their own creation, and other miscellanea.
• Subplots, which are long-running series of events which the PCs are interacting with (or expecting to interact with). A lot of these seem to end up being factions. (The distinction from Backdrops is that, due to their interactivity, the Subplots have either mini-scenarios or full scenarios. The distinction from Interludes is that Subplots aren’t one-shot adventures; they’re long-running sequences. Although, again, these distinctions get blurred in practice as PCs ignore subplots, get involved with events I thought were backdrops, or have long-term events spin off from an Interlude.)

It might be worth noting that I’m not super-invested in the Backdrop/Interludes/Subplots division; it’s just what I’ve found useful for organizing my notes for this specific campaign.

Okay, with this groundwork laid, let’s dig into Session 35.

IN THE CAMPAIGN STATUS DOCUMENT

The campaign date is 09/18/790 — the 18^th day of Kadal in the 790^th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty. The PCs have spent most of the day — in sessions 32 thru 34 — engaged with the chaos cultists at, first, the apartment building where they’re conducting their venom-shaped thrall experiments and, later, in the ruins of the Old City below the apartment building.

The result is that a bunch of events scheduled for the 18^th have stacked up, particularly because the PCs spent most of the 17^th throwing a huge spanner into the schisming of the Imperial Church and getting themselves thoroughly tangled up in a city-wide political crisis.

The two most relevant sections of my campaign status document here are the Newssheets (summarizing backdrop events in the city) and Events (which are things more or less “aimed” at the PCs). These are the relevant entries from each section for the 18^th:

NEWSSHEETS

• 09/18/790: Blood in the Bathhouse. A flock of ravens bursts the doors on the Row Bathhouse and drives out the customers. When the ravens fly out again, the baths have been polluted with Blood. (Tavern Row War)
• 09/18/790: Vile Rites Performed in Oldtown! Report on what the City Watch discovered in the Oldtown apartment complex.

EVENTS

• 09/18/790: Ranthir receives a letter from Mahdoth’s. (BW03A)
• 09/18/790: Jevicca uses a sending to contact them. (Jevicca’s Sending)
• 09/18/790: Gemmell sends Tor a letter. (The orc prisoner has escaped with inside help; Sir Kabel was warned. Gemmell is worried that there are traitors in the ranks. But he trusts Tor because he gave him Kabel’s letter.)
• 09/18/790 (8 PM): Meeting with Sir Kabel at Pythoness House. (Meeting with Kabel)
• 09/18/790 (11 PM): GQT2 comes to Nibeck Street mansion. (BW Status)

The text in parentheses at the end of some of these entries indicate that they are pointers, either to a separate document (e.g, Tavern Row War refers to a section of Backdrop 1: Balacazar vs. Killraven) or to a later section of the campaign status document (e.g, BW Status and Jevicca’s Sending are both sections which appear later). This way, these sections of the campaign status document don’t become overwhelmed with so much information that they can no longer serve their essential function.

You can see in the case of “Gemmell sends Tor a letter,” however, that the supplementary info was short enough that I could just leave it in situ. Similarly, the specific details of “Vile Rites Performed in Oldtown!” are something I’m prepared to just improvise as necessary.

In addition to these regular sections of the campaign status document, I’ve also added a special section entitled Tavern Row Events. These are “random” encounters that I prepped several weeks before this session as part of Backdrop 1: Balacazar vs. Killraven. Since the PCs are boarding just around the corner from Tavern Row — and regularly walk up and down the street — I wanted them to experience some of the peripheral shrapnel of this gang war themselves. I’ve transferred the events from the Backdrop File to the campaign status document so that they’ll be right in my face when I’m running the session. (That way I won’t forget about them.)

Usually I would integrate events like this into the regular sections of the campaign status document, but in this case I decided it would be more useful to keep them grouped together. (Particularly because they weren’t keyed to specific dates or times.)

TAVERN ROW EVENTS

Raven Spies: While passing down Tavern Row, the PCs notice an unusual number of ravens roosting along the rooftops — peering eerily down into the streets below. Passersby keep glancing up nervously at them.

• These are Killraven spies.
• Just before the Showdown at the Onyx Spider, the number of ravens will multiply, roosting on seemingly every rooftop.

The Stink Man: The PCs are in position to spot Durant and a couple of Killraven thugs heading into the Old Goose tavern. They’re either there to intimidate Unos (before the 15^th), kill Unos (on the evening of the 15^th), or to threaten Unos’ heir Talia.

Tellith’s Problems: Tellith is harassed by Killraven enforcers: An ogre sorcerer named Fatok and three thugs. They’re demanding a monthly protection payment of 100 gp.

• “Don’t think your delver friends will help you.”

We can now see all the pieces that have been laid in place. These events have built up over time — either from long-term backdrop prep; time events; or consequences spinning off like free radicals from the actions of the over the last dozen sessions. All of these separate vectors have converged to seed the campaign status document with these specific mix of events for the 18^th, and then the PCs actions on the 18^th itself have further shaped how they’ll play out at the table.

RUNNING SESSION 35

You may want to pop open Session 35 in a separate browser tab so that you can follow along as we walk through the events that played out.

Having left the chaos temple in the Old City at the end of Session 34, the PCs kicked things off with some logistical play: Inventorying their loot, identifying magic items, etc. Standard stuff.

They had completed these chores as a matter of urgency and necessity, but now that the dinner hour was approaching, they realized they were still variously caked with sewer sludge, crusted blood, and other various foulnesses. And sothey headed toward the bathhouse on Tavern Row.

One of the reasons for keeping a campaign status document is that it can sit on the table right next to you during the whole session. Throughout the session, therefore, I’m consistently checking the campaign status document; sort of “touching base” to make sure I’m not forgetting anything and/or looking for stuff that I can opportunistically inject into the ongoing events.

Here my players are announcing their intention to visit a bathhouse on Tavern Row, and right at the top of my campaign status document I’m looking at the “Blood in the Bathhouse” event.

So this is pretty straightforward, right? It’s a no-brainer to have them arrive in the immediate aftermath of that event.

I then cross out this event, which obviously helps me keep track of what has and hasn’t happened. In addition, it also makes it easy for me to update my campaign status document between sessions by simply looking for and removing entries that have been crossed out.

With a shrug, Tor and Tee headed into the bathhouse. They found Derra, the proprietress of the bathhouse, being questioned by a watchman. Tee took the opportunity to sneak through the far door and into the baths themselves.

One consequence of having the PCs arrive in the immediate aftermath of the event — rather than hearing about it later through the rumor mill or by reading about it in a newssheet — is that they can choose to interact with it. “Derra” is just an improvised name, but I make a point of writing it down in my notes.

As they emerged from the door, they spotted a raven watching them from the roof on the opposite side of the Row. Seeing that it had been noticed, the raven took off and began to fly away to the south.

Since the PCs are on Tavern Row, it’s also time to trigger one of the Tavern Row Encounters. Here I’ve grabbed the “Raven Spies” encounters. It plays out a little differently than written because of the present circumstances. This is just fine, of course. But I also make the decision to NOT cross out the encounter. This is an encounter that could be easily repeated in any case.

Elestra flew in through the window of her room. The others followed on foot.

But when they opened the front door of the Ghostly Minstrel, they found Tellith being confronted by a large ogre and three thugs.

“—and don’t think your delver friends will help you,” the ogre growled.

“Delver friends like us?” Tee stabbed him in the back.

Elestra choosing to fly the Killraven spy straight back to their rooms (oh no!) has complicated this sequence of events more than I’d anticipated. (My thought behind the encounter was more along of the lines “look at those creepy ravens; they’re very creep.”)

Your thought might be to simplify it back down. Mine, on the other hand, is to seize the opportunity to add even more complexity to it. And since everyone is rushing back to the Ghostly Minstrel, I have an easy tool to do it: The “Tellith’s Troubles” encounter is not only apropos, but will also complicate the group’s desire to reach their rooms and join Elestra.

Tellith thanked them again for their help. While she was expressing her gratitude, she remembered that letters had come for “Master Ranthir and Master Tor, now where did they go? Ah! Here they are!”

Checking in with my campaign status document again, I can see that several letters were supposed to arrive for the PCs throughout the 18^th. Since they’ve been out all day, these have all stacked up.

And this, of course, is a perfect time for Tellith to deliver them.

You can begin to see how all of these separate elements, independently added to my campaign status document (often just one at a time!), begin weaving together during actual play into complex, multilayered scenes and sequences.

THE WEAVING OF TOR

“Nor is that the only treason in our midst. The orc woman you captured in the Banewarrens has escaped.”

“Escaped?” This time Tor was truly surprised. “How is that possible?”

“There must be a traitor within the Order,” Gemmell said. “The truth is that you’re the only one I can trust. You not only gave me Sir Kabel’s location, but you were also responsible for capturing the escaped prisoner.”

Tor valiantly stopped himself from gaping. “I’m honored that you would place your faith in me.”

This is one of my favorite moments in the entire campaign.

It started back in Session 31, when I set up a crucible choice for Sir Tor by having Sir Gemmell and Sir Kabel both send him a letter at the same time: Which letter would be he respond to? Which side would he choose in the schisming of the Church and the Order of the Dawn?

And then Tor blew my mind.

Believing that the arrival of both letters nearly simultaneously was too strange to be a coincidence, Tor concluded that Sir Kabel’s letter was a fake, sent by Sir Gemmell to test his loyalty. So he responded by showing Sir Gemmell the letter, unwittingly betraying Sir Kabel.

That alone was the stuff great game sessions are made of: Tor was going to be completely devastated when he realized what he’d done!

… except the player mulled it over, and realized that she may have made a mistake. So Tor took emergency action and managed to warn Sir Kabel in the nick of time! Sir Kabel escaped just before Sir Gemmell arrived to arrest him!

Meanwhile, in that same session, the PCs had captured an agent of the Pactlords in the Banewarrens. (This was unanticipated, as I’d expected them to kill all the Pactlords.) After attempting to interrogate her, they decided to turn her over to the Imperial Church for safekeeping.

This was even more unexpected!

What the PCs didn’t know is that the Pactlords had a highly placed agent in the Imperial Church, and so the logical outcome of this was that the Pactlord agent would escape from custody.

At this point, Session 31 came to an end and I had the luxury of sitting back and thinking things through at my leisure. I put myself in Sir Gemmell’s position. I thought about what he knew. I thought about what his goals were. I thought about what his fears were.

… and that’s when I realized that from Gemmell’s point of view Tor was the only person he could trust.

Completely and unequivocally.

And, therefore, there was only possible thing for Gemmell to do: Immediately knight Tor so that he would be in a position to help Gemmell root out the traitor in his midst!

I don’t know if this will blow your mind the way it blew mine. But of all the possible outcomes I could have possibly imagined when this sequence of events was set in motion, I literally could not have imagined any of this happening. That’s the amazing beauty and incredible power of a roleplaying game.

And, again, you can see all of these threads weaving together and becoming something greater than the sum of their parts.

Tor was ecstatic at the thought of being knighted. He was so excited, in fact, that he stopped to buy a couple bottles of wine on his way back to meet the others.

The other thing I’ll note is that I’d originally expected Tor to receive Sir Gemmell’s letter earlier in the day. So his meeting with Gemmell  happening at the same time the group was meeting with Kabel is actually another example of events unexpectedly weaving together.

They were glad to see him well, and surprised to see the giddy smile on his face. As Tor was explaining the situation to them, however, Agnarr’s eyes suddenly glazed over and he spoke aloud:

Jevicca requires a meeting. I request an update on your progress and have information for you.

… and we’ll go ahead and weave a little more by grabbing our last unresolved event for the 18^th that doesn’t have a specific time attached to it and drop it into this scene.

With that done, I’ve crossed out all the events on the 18^th except this one:

09/18/790 (11 PM): GQT2 comes to Nibeck Street mansion. (BW Status)

And this one is interesting because at this point I’m assuming that I know exactly how things are going to play out at 11 PM.

It turns out, though, that I’m very, very wrong.

But we’ll talk about that more next time.

Campaign Journal: Session 35C – Running the Campaign: Ambushing Your Timelines
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

DISCUSSING
In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 35A: Birds of Black Feather

Once they had emerged from the sewers, they sold the unclaimed items in various shops across Midtown and the North Market. Then they headed to the Cathedral and received divine healing, mystically purging their poison-wracked bodies. They also took the opportunity to stock up on a variety of portable curatives so that they would be able to deal with poison on site in the future. (“This probably won’t be the last time we’ll be dealing with the Brotherhood of Venom.”)

They had completed these tasks as a matter of urgency and necessity, but now that the dinner hour was approaching, they realized they were still variously caked with sewer sludge, crusted blood, and other various foulnesses. And so they headed toward the bathhouse on Tavern Row.

I’ve previously discussed expedition-based play, but the quick version is that:

1. The party gathers resources in order to…
2. Venture forth in pursuit of a goal, during which…
3. They will attempt to use their resources to best effect in order maximize the progress and/or payoff of their expedition.

The resources in question might be either practical supplies (e.g., rations or gasoline) or mechanical benefits (e.g., hit points and spell slots). The goal might be either specific (e.g., root out of the cultists) or general (e.g, loot as much treasure as possible).

The fun of expedition-based play comes from the challenge of maximizing the return on your investment. At some point, though, you’ll burn through your resources and be forced to return to your home base so that you can gather fresh resources for the next expedition.

This dynamic, however, can lead to expedition-based play being characterized as the PCs always losing and needing to run away with their tails tucked between their legs. When it’s perceived in this way, of course, expedition-based play can seem incredibly frustrating: “We failed again!”

As we can see at the end of the last session and the beginning of this one, however, the real secret to expedition-based play is figuring out when to beat a jubilant strategic withdrawal just BEFORE you hit the challenge that depletes your resources and leaves you fleeing in abject desperation. In fact, finding that moment of jubilant withdrawal is one of the great joys of dungeon exploration: You have fought the good fight. You have reaped your rewards. You have laid the groundwork for the even greater success of your next expedition!

That is, without a doubt, a triumph, and must be seen as such.

You won’t always find that perfect moment, of course. That’s OK. If there weren’t setbacks, the victories wouldn’t taste as sweet.

Finding the perfect moment, of course, is a matter of experience. And, honestly, I find it to be as much art as science.

Some may believe that they can outthink the problem by simply leaving long before their supplies run out. “If we never put ourselves at risk, then we can never fail!” goes the logic.

Such an overabundance of caution, however, is really just a different kind of failure. If nothing else, it’s a failure to realize your potential. On a more practical level, overly frequent retreats can be particularly devastating – ranging from the frustrating to the disastrous – if the GM is running a dynamic dungeon that responds to the PCs’ actions. In those circumstances, the overly-cautious group may find it incredibly difficult to make any real progress towards their goals, instead finding themselves fighting over the same dungeon rooms again and again and again, like some sort of subterranean reenactment of World War I trench warfare.

But when you find the sweet spot! That’s a glorious moment! You leave your foes broken behind you and emerge back into the warmth of the sun, looking around the table to see the grinning faces of your fellow adventures. And then you count your coins and gems, marvel at your new magic items, and tally your experience points.

You have reached the top of one pinnacle, and now it is time to prepare for the next!

Campaign Journal: Session 35B – Running the Campaign: Weaving the Background
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

DISCUSSING
In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 34D: The Battle Turns Again

Tee, now outside the tower, levitated into the air and tried taking potshots at the ratbrutes… but the dwarf, having safely retreated down the hall from the melee but still with a clear line of sight, started summoning fiery-eyed hawks with metallic, razor-sharp feathers to harry her. Their cruel beaks and claws took bloody gouges of flesh out of her.

2D battlemap = 2D thinking.

But if you neglect the third dimension in your game, then you’re flattening the game experience. (Pun intended.)

This session provides a pretty good sampler platter of third-dimensional stuff: The multi-level tower. The structure with both a rooftop and interior level. Windows looking down on the battlefield. Spider-creatures crawling around on the walls and swinging on webs. Flying imps. Levitating heroes. Leaping and climbing and all kinds of stuff.

A few things I think about when combat goes vertical.

Multiple Elevations. When designing your dungeon and/or battlemap, don’t forget to include multiple elevations. It won’t do you any good to remember that the third dimension exists during the fight if you get trapped by 2D-thinking during design and everything is flat as a pancake.

I kind of roughly think of this in terms of bumps and levels. The distinction here is not a particularly firm one, and I may have just made up those terms as a convenient way of leveling thoughts that have been pretty vague in my own head. A bump is basically just something that alters a continuous floor level — a dais, a rocky outcropping, a treehouse, etc.

A level, on the other hand, is a completely separate floor. A balcony flanking one side of a courtyard is a great example. You might also have a floating platform thirty feet above the ground, or a cliff that leads to a lower pit. It’s possible the two levels are directly connected, but they might have completely separate exits and entrances.

On that note, something to think about here is what the transition from one elevation to another looks like: Is it as easy as just stepping from one to another? A set of stairs or a ladder? Do you have to climb or jump? This will obviously have a profound impact on how the fight plays out, so think about the chokepoints you’re creating on the battlefield and how limited access can create challenges for both PCs and NPCs to overcome.

(And since NPCs can often have access to abilities that the PCs don’t — i.e., a dragon flying or giant spiders climbing on the walls — this can also create asymmetric battlefields.)

Levitation v. Flying. Of course, being able to move through the air is a great cheat code for navigating spaces with multiple elevation.

I think it’s important for levitation to feel distinct from flying, particularly in D&D. (They’re separate spells for a reason!) The key thing is that levitation only allows you to move straight up or down unless you can push or pull yourself along a wall or ceiling. This is fun in its own right because it creates a unique challenge for levitating characters, but in D&D it’s also how you set up the reward of unlocking full-blown flight later in the game.

Fun levitation “hacks” you can play around with: How far can you go by pushing hard off a surface? Do you just float in a straight line until you hit another obstacle (like an astronaut in zero-g)? Or is it more limited than that? (Maybe you could determine distance from a push-off the same way you would with a jump?)

Can you push off other combatants? Or be thrown by them? (And if so, how would you want to resolve that?)

Something else to think about is aerial strafing. The image of a dragon flying past a battlefield and unleashing a torrent of flame is pretty awesome. Some games will try to enforce that “realistic flying” (as opposed to magical/Superman-style “perfect” flight) mechanically, but many won’t (in part because a lot of those systems just turn into a huge bookkeeping headache).

If you want to try to enforce “realistic flying,” it’s probably enough to just require a minimum movement each round, and just assume that somehow the character is doing aerobatic maneuvering to pull off whatever path that movement actually takes.

Either way, even if it’s not mechanically “required,” you can still describe your dragons strafing the battlefield.

Tracking the 3^rd Dimension. If you’re using miniatures, how do you keep track of all this?

If you’ve only got one or two or maybe a few fliers on the battlefield, I find it’s usually enough to just provide a clear indicator of THAT CHARACTER IS FLYING to help everyone keep track of things.

The most effective — and also visually pleasing — way of doing this, in my experience, is some kind of platform that the character’s miniature or token can sit on.

• You can buy combat risers specifically made for this.
• The dice cubes that d6s or other dice sets are sometimes sold in can be a great solution.
• The little plastic platforms that pizza places use to hold up the box lid are also great. Plus, they’re free. All you need to do is start a collection.

I’ll often track the elevation of a flying character by just writing the number on the Chessex battlemap right next to them. If can’t write on the map, or don’t want to, you can also use numeric tokens or a stack of blank chits.

If you want more than that, more sophisticated combat risers will incorporate height-tracking, either through a gauge or through stackable pieces.

(The stackable risers are great because they give an easy visual reference for where different flying combatants are located in relation to each other. In my experience, though, it’s best not to get too tightly trapped in the idea of tracking specific 5-ft. or even 10-ft. increments with the risers. Partly because you can easily limit the flexibility of your three-dimensional space. But more importantly because fidgeting with stacks of plastic bits can be a real drag. So I tend to use the stackable risers to broadly indicate which vertical “level” combatants are on — these guys are all about ten feet up; these guys are about forty feet up; etc. — and, if more precision is needed, it can be handled through the other tracking methods we’ve described.)

Mapping 3D Spaces. Of course, if you’ve been designing areas with multiple elevations, it’s not just the combatants you need to depict verticality for.

If you’re using 3D terrain, of course, this problem can often take care of itself.

If the separate elevations are fairly clear, just noting the height difference on the map is often enough. For more complex spaces, you might want to sketch a side-view next to the primary battlemap, providing a quick reference for, e.g., how high the tower is vs. the carriage-house vs. the boulder vs. where the harpies are currently flying.

Tip: Duplicate minis or other tokens can also be to track figures simultaneously on both maps; the battlemap giving X-Y coordinates, and the side-map giving a X-Z coordinates.

Calculating Movement. Tracking the elevation of characters moving straight up and down isn’t too hard, but as soon as characters start moving at angles through the third dimension it’s easy for your brain to break.

Your grade school math teacher told you the Pythagorean theorem would be useful! And they were right!

But what I’ve done is actually prep an Aerial Distance Table: Calculate the horizontal distance and vertical distance traveled, and a quick cross-reference on the table will tell you far the character actually traveled in a straight line.

This table appears on page 78 of Legends & Labyrinths, so you can grab a copy for yourself.

Campaign Journal: Session 35A – Running the Campaign: Withdrawing in Victory
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index