E. wrote:

My Lost Mine of Phandelver group has decided to go cross-country to find the goblin castle (Castle Cragmaw). They have vague directions from a goblin they spoke to, but I think it’s highly unlikely they could find the base just from the goblin pointing. How should I run this? Or should I just let them find it after a bit of travel? I have some wandering monsters, but I’m concerned that if they go looking and find nothing that it will be frustrating and not-fun.

When dealing with this sort of thing, I find it useful to review the possible outcomes. In this case:

1. They find it.
2. They don’t find it and nothing interesting happens while they look.
3. They don’t find it (at least, not yet), but something interesting happens while they’re looking.

Getting a good, solid grip on the situation like this makes it a lot easier to clearly understand the choices that you’re going to make. (And, by extension, the choices the players are going to make.)

Next, consider — at least in broad terms — what each of these would look like at the table. In each of these, for example, you’d briefly describe the journey and then…

1. … describe Cragmaw Castle.
2. … tell them they found nothing and ask them what they want to do next.
3. … describe the other interesting thing (location, creatures, etc.) that they encounter.

The next thing is figuring out how you’re going to determine which of these things is going to happen. This will depend a lot on the situation, the action being proposed by the players, and the existing structures of play. For example, if you were running a player-facing hexcrawl, you might have the players point to the hex they want to explore and then use all of your existing hexcrawl procedures to resolve the attempt (which would likely result in #1 or a series of #3s).

Things get more complicated, of course, if you don’t have any established structure to use (or if it’s unclear which structure you should be using and how you should use it). Figuring out how to handle that will always start with asking, “How are you doing that?” and, essentially, repeating variations of that question until you feel like you have enough information about their method to make a ruling and resolve the outcome.

In this case, the method is “explore the direction the goblin pointed us in.” Is this a sufficiently detailed method to make a ruling? That can be debated, but it’s ultimately up to you. Personally, if I can clearly see the potential outcomes of what the PCs are trying to do, I generally take that to mean the method has been clearly established. (Although I might ask some follow-up questions and clarify the details to make sure the stakes — i.e., the potential costs and rewards of the attempt — of the attempt are clear.)

In this case, I think the method is sufficiently detailed for your group, because you’ve already made the essential assessment:

I think it’s highly unlikely they could find the base just from the goblin pointing

They have enough information that there’s a chance they could find it, but it’s unlikely. All you need to do is quantify that unlikeliness. You might do that directly: “there’s a 1 in 20 chance per day of searching the area” (or 1 in 10 or 1 in 6 of whatever). Or you might do it via a daily (or hourly or weekly) skill check.

Now if the check is successful and the PCs find Cragmaw Castle, that’s inherently interesting and you can obviously just move forward with the material you have prepped.

But what if they don’t find it?

The fail state here is:

GM: You don’t find anything.

Players: We search some more.

GM: You don’t find anything.

Players: We search some more.

GM: You don’t find anything.

Players: We search some more.

GM: You don’t find anything.

Players: We search some more.

This is, obviously, the frustrating “not-fun” that you’re concerned about.

The Art of Rulings states that failure should always be interesting, meaningful, or both. (If not, you should default to success.) To achieve this, you have a few options.

First, reassess and eliminate the failure. In this case, maybe finding Castle Cragmaw with the information they have is inevitable and the only meaningful question is, “How long does it take?” Determine that as quickly as possible, describe it, and get to the next interesting choice (i.e., what do the PCs do when they find the castle?).

Second, shut down the loop: The failure is meaningful because it indicates finding Castle Cragmaw using this method is actually impossible, but it’s not interesting beyond that, so clearly communicate that failure to the players (e.g., “you search for days, but realize you’re searching for a needle in a haystack”) and then ask them what they do next. They’ll either need to try a different method of searching or choose something else to do.

Third, make sure each of those resolution loops ends in something interesting happening instead of nothing happening. You mention having wandering monster tables, for example. I’d also consider looking at other interesting locations in your prep notes, if any, along the vector they’ve chosen. That should give you a lot of fodder for describing interesting stuff while their search continues.

Note that the consistent theme here is describing failure efficiently and getting to the next meaningful choice as quickly as possible.

SUBTLETIES

Beyond these big, broad approaches, there are a lot of different subtleties an advanced game master can deploy here. For example, by blending these various tools together.

• After the players say they’re going to search the wilderness in the direction the goblin pointed them in, you can ask them how long they would continue their search before giving up. (You might ask this directly or via a proxy question like, “How many days worth of supplies are you bringing?”) With that information in hand, you could then determine how long it would take them to find Castle Cragmaw (by any number of possible methods) — if that time is less than the length of their expedition, then they find it; if not, the resolution gets shunted into a simple, “You don’t find it… now what?”
• Or each time you roll a failure in their search, you also make a random encounter check. Resolve these checks rapidly — possibly rolling them behind your screen to speed things up — so that you can summarize the entire sequence efficiently instead of dwelling in tedium.

Of course, player frustration can arise from many different sources. If your resolve their search attempt completely behind the screen, for example, they might feel that you’re railroading them by arbitrarily blocking their actions (even if this isn’t the case). For such players, in addition to working on building meaningful trust with them in the long-term, you may want to bias your rulings towards methods — e.g., skill checks that they roll themselves — where they’ll feel ownership for their failures (instead of laying the blame on you).

In short, there’s not One True Way™ of resolving a search for Castle Cragmaw. Running a roleplaying game, after all, is much more an art than a science. But I do find these general principles help guide me to useful and effective answers. Hopefully they’ll guide you to the same.

Go to Ask the Alexandrian #1

FURTHER READING

The Art of Rulings

Let all substance be taken from. Let all order of the world be stripped from you. Let even the bones that tie you to the tyranny of the flesh dissolve within you. Only then, veiled in grey from mortal sight, shall you serve the true Lords of Man.

This small book wrapped in grey cloth – its text copied in a small, cramped hand using a dark green ink – speaks of the Vreeth, one among the “servitors of the Galchutt”.

The book describes those of the “true faith,” who give up the entirety of their mind and body to the service of chaos. Taken away bodily from the mortal realms (“through the great sieves of Sessural’s dream and the void of Dhar Rhyth”), these cultists are altered irrevocably – becoming “things of naught, forever doomed to sing the hymns of chaos and chant the litany of destruction”. They can think of or do nothing beyond serving and worshiping the higher concept of Deep Chaos.

According to The Grey Veiled, the vreeth are the center of a cult’s veneration – they are the ultimate bridge of communion between the mortal and immortal servitors of chaos, trapped in the nether regions between the two. Thus, for the vreeth to be seen by any who are not truly servants of chaos is a blasphemous sacrilege. Any who would so profane the holy sight of the vreeth should be purged.

Upon one page, scrawled in a different hand, is a short passage: “Beneath the robes which are not there is the multitude of squamous horror…”

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Originally Published in Games Unplugged Webzine – December 27th, 2000

Spookshow is one of those games which has a really great concept – ghosts are real and they’re working as spies – which then utterly fails to develop that concept in any appreciable way.

Adding to its sin, Spookshow seems eerily aware of its limitations: An oversized, double-spaced font dominates the entire presentation. A number of interesting elements which could have taken this sketchy concept and given its real legs are, instead, presented into a section of two paragraph “wouldn’t it be nifty if we’d developed any of these ideas?” grab bags.

In general, I think Spookshow’s overriding problem – of which the pervasive lack of development is merely a symptom – is that it is a sloppy job carried out in a lazy fashion. For example, the game’s system is based around the Bearing mechanic: Each ghostly character is assigned a d6 that represents their mortal nature and a d10 which represents their “ghostly” nature. When entering any new situation, and at the beginning of every round of combat, these dice are rolled for the character to “get their bearings”. So long as neither side is a 1 or a max for that side, you can use both sides without penalty. If both dice roll the same number, then you can only use one side (which you choose). If you roll a maximum number on one die, then that side of you is at a +1 bonus to actions on that side. If you roll a 1 on one of the dice, you can’t use that side. And if you roll a 1 on both dice you freeze up completely.

It’s a good idea… totally screwed up because they didn’t spend three seconds thinking the probabilities through. Instead of fulfilling the stated intention (with the ghostly side having a greater importance because, after all, they’re ghosts), it’s the physical side which dominates the situation. Think it through: 1/6^th of the time your physical side is going to be dominant (receiving a +1 bonus); while the supernatural side will only be dominant 1/10^th of the time. Plus, its the physical die which has the most impact on almost every other element of this system – from when you freeze up, to when you need to decide on one side or the other, and so forth.

But then they make it even worse: Your Bearings roll is also added as a modifier to your action resolution attempts (creating a confusing situation in which “terrestial” and “noncorporeal” – for some reason they can never settle on just one set of terms to distinguish between the physical and ghostly worlds in the system – tasks have a completely different difficulty scale). You then take the “free die” and roll it (so if you’re doing something noncorporeal you add your ghostly Bearing modifier, and then roll your physical die). This grainy, inconsistent mess again emphasizes the physical existence over the noncorporeal existence.

The designers of Spookshow are also guilty of one of the cardinal sins of game design: They let their game terminology constantly leak over into the game world. For example, all the intelligence organizations in the world – apparently – use the names of the Spookshow archetypes (hitter, hacker, etc.) to describe their agents. They also engage in the unpleasant phenomenon of “needless binding” – in which, for example, all the ghosts who share a similar philosophy also have the same mystic abilities. For example, a Will o’ Wisp is a ghost who believes that the afterlife affords them a chance to visit all the places and do all the things they never could during life. According to Spookshow all Will o’ Wisps have the ability to Levitate (because it “enables them to travel more freely and quickly”). But why couldn’t a ghost with this philosophy develop (or possess) the Morphology ability (which would allow them to easily pass themselves off as a wide variety of different people)? It’s the classic D&D “only thieves can learn how to pick a lock”, without even the excuse of game balance lying behind it. It’s rules for the sake of rules, and restriction where there doesn’t need to be restriction.

Don’t get me wrong, there are some interesting things to be found between these covers: A fairly solid first level primer on the intelligence organizations of the real world. An interesting breakdown of character creation into Relic/Specter/Persona (who you were, what you are, and who you’re pretending to be).

Ultimately, though, Spookshow is a game which should’ve gone in one of two directions: Either all of the non-essential fluff and endless expanses of empty space in this rulebook should have been stripped away to create a tight package that could’ve have marketed around $10; or the current material should’ve been radically expanded to give us something more than “a neat concept which we’ll develop in the supplements”. Unfortunately, Spookshow does neither of these things – and is inexorably trapped in a middle ground of questionable design and nebulous worth.

Grade: C+

Writers: Aaron Rosenberg
Price: $25.00
Page Count: 208
ISBN: 1-892544-10-5
Product Code: CLK0020

This was a strange review to come back and re-read for the first time in twenty-five years.

I suspect my overall assessment of the mechanics and underdeveloped premise were likely correct, but the primary thing I’ve thought about when looking at this book over the years is, “That had a really great primer on intelligence operations!” In fact, there have been numerous occasions when I’ve cracked the cover to review that material. As a result, when I cracked open this file I was honestly expecting to read a positive review and was surprised to find a pretty harsh judgment.

Aaron Rosenberg has gone on to do a lot of great stuff, in both fiction and roleplaying.

I think I should revisit this one. It would also be interesting to compare it now with Night’s Black Agents, which is kind of playing in the same ballpark.

Let all who look upon them despair. For they are like unto perfection. For they are not of this world but of all worlds. Not of this life but of all lives. Their sight is without limit and through the Eight Eyes of the Magi the truth of all things is bared through the Touch of Chaos.

This blackened tome has a clasp of polished bone. Its pages are those of a spellbook which has been annotated to become a book of lore detailing the strange abominations that revealed the contorted rites of chaos magic which it describes.

“Know ye then the Nineteen Names of Their Power, chief among which is the word shaadom.”

The shaadom are consummate chaos mages. Their knowledge of both the crafts of spellsong and the weavings of chaos are reputedly without peer, and they can wed these paradoxical bodies of knowledge – the rigorous precision of spellcasting; the anarchic, spasming liberties of chaos – into a more perfect whole.

THE CREATION OF THE SHAADOM

“In the Book of the Akop Kings it was written that the shaadom were instruments of their own creation. So, too, reads the Prophecy of Ubala Dal: That the last of their race shall forever forge the first of their kind. They are the circle without end; sundered from this world at both beginning and end and neither. Unto themselves they have perfect knowledge, for of their knowledge they are unto.”

A hulking creature, a shaadom has two muscular arms that end in three-fingered hands. Its head is arachnoid with six eyes and a large, mandibled mouth. Its long torso ends in a squirming mass of short, wide tentacles rather than legs.

Shaadom are said to float just above the ground, “for their very being is repugnant unto this earth” or possibly “because they do not deign to touch a world imperfect”.

THE EYES OF THE SHAADOM

The eyes of a shaadom are said to be possessed of a “vision beyond vision”. Even in death, some of their supreme potency remains: When bound in a circlet of woven taurum and mithril, they can be fashioned into a crown which gifts the wearer with the “shaadom’s eye”.

Shaadom’s Eye: The circlet functions as a crystal ball of true seeing. The shaadom’s eye requires a Wisdom save (DC 21) to resist the scrying effect. In addition, there is a 10% chance each time the shaadom’s eye is used (and once per day that it is worn) that the wearer must make a Wisdom save (DC 21) or be afflicted as per a nightmare spell.

THE WEAVE OF CHAOS

“Through the arts of shaadom, the nature of the world is divided from itself and into an interstice of terror is driven the wedge of chaos.”

The shaadom’s greatest art is chaos-weaving. They able to transform the spells they cast even in the act of casting, infusing them with great chaotic energies. Mortal sorcerors attempting to pursue such arts find the results unpredictable and dangerous; but somehow the shaadom manage to create incantations which draw only strength from their anarchy: Their unpredictable nature only makes them more difficult to resist; their effects more terrible in their afflictions.

THE ANARCHY OF THE SELF

“Unto themselves they are a law. Unto themselves are they beholden. Unto themselves are they masters. Unto themselves are they tyrants.”

It is said that among the Chaos Lords, the shaadom represent individuality taken to the ultimate extreme of selfishness and obsession. They hate even each other as rivals and enemies – locking themselves into aeon-long machinations wrapped around their “twisted spires of silver-grey”. Fueled by hate, jealousy, lust, and greed – all centered around the acquisition of power – the shaadom are most often found on their own, individual quests, willing to bend all that they encounter to whatever suits their immediate needs and desires.

SPELLBOOKS OF THE SHAADOM

All of the spells described here have been woven with chaos using the arts of the shaadom. These versions of the spells are more difficult to dispel (disadvantage on the dispel check). In addition, there is always a 10% chance that the target of these spells will automatically fail their saving throw regardless of what their saving throw roll is.

However, there is a price: The chaos weaving of the spells touches upon the “web of the Demon Princes” itself. The process draws taint into the world, afflicting the caster as if they were using a tainted item each time a shaadom spell is prepared or cast.

• blessing of mutation**
• chaositech enslavement**
• chaositech enslavement, greater**
• confusion
• contagion
• darkness
• detect chaositech*
• detect evil and good
• detect mutation**
• dispel magic
• fear
• identify device*
• lightning bolt
• magic circle
• power word kill
• power word stun
• teleport

* This spell can be found in the Ptolus sourcebook.

** These spells can be in the Chaositech sourcebook.

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And as the Sleep of Ages came upon them, they placed a great burden of trust upon the greatest and most loyal among their servants. Nor did the Earthbound Demons fail them. Upon the borders of their vast caverns, they raised a Vault that would stand guard upon the aeons.

This simple volume contains much lore pertaining to the rhodintor, who are described as both “stewards of the Sleepers” and “servitors of the Galchutt”.

The rhodintor were “raised up from the dust of ages, carved from the mountains of faith, and crafted of the rock’s strength”. In a “pact of earth were they forged”, “crafty of wit and brutal of arm”. Their bodies were built for strength, and they were said to possess “veins of silver” which “carried their thought quicker than any mortal man’s” and “gifted them with great affinity for the sorcerous arts”.

THE PATHS OF FAITH

In their pursuit of magic, the rhodintor are said to take one of two paths.

The first is named Kravren, the Path of Silver. The followers of the Kravren path are warrior-mages, possessing magical abilities which enhance them physically.

The second is named Sarycal, the Path of Flame. These rhodintor are possessed of more traditional magical arts and master strange spells.

These paths appear to have been named after greater leaders of the rhodintor. They are also referred to as the Path of the Father and the Path of the Mother, but these references appear confused or perhaps even erroneous, for elsewhere it is said that the “rhodin were made to breed naught; and all the rhodin that were ever faithful or that will ever be faithful were raised up by the hand of the Galchutt”.

SARYCAL STAVES

Many among the followers of Sarycal are said to wield “staves of pure fire”. It seems that the earliest of these staves were “clenched from the Heart of All-Flame” (whatever that may mean), but it appears that most of the staves of a lesser art and craft.

Rhodintor Staves: A staff of solidified fire. These +1 flaming quarterstaffs allow the wielder to cast either fire shield, fireball, or wall of fire once per day. A rhodintor can also use this staff to create a 60-ft. cone of fire that inflicts 6d6 points of fire damage (as cone of cold, but with fire), but doing so expends one of their once-per-day spell-like abilities. If anyone other than a rhodintor attempts to use one of these staves, it will explode in a 20-ft.-radius fireball that deals 6d6 points of damage.

THE STEWARDS OF THE GALCHUTT

When “the minds of the Galchutt stepped forth from this world,” a final charge was laid upon the rhodintor: To guard the Caverns of the Galchutt until “the end of that night when the Sleep would pass and the eyes of the Natharl’nacna would be opened unto the light of the final days.”

To this end, the rhodintor “expanded their rites of territory and fortified their labyrinths of stone”. In this way the Eurl-rhodin Taurik – the “Last Cavern” or “Vault of the Rhodintor” (or, more literally, the “Cavern of the Rhodin’s Demesne”) – was erected upon the “very borders of the Caverns so as to act as the gatekeepers of their masters”. And there “great armaments of chaos were gathered”.

There, in “runed chambers of blood-red”, the rhodintor meditate upon the “scheme of all” and the waking hour of their masters (which they are charged not only to “protect against”, but also to “aid and realize”).

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