Go to Part 1

When we talk about mystery scenarios, we obviously spend a lot of time looking at clues. Broadly speaking, a clue is something that an investigator can use to reach a conclusion:

• The murders always happen on the night of a full moon; therefore a werewolf is responsible.
• The accounting records reveal that John Fairbanks has been making payments to the corporate saboteurs.
• The trail of footprints leads to Old Man’s Cave.

And so forth.

A hint, on the other hand, is similar to a clue, but DOESN’T point to a conclusion. They’re less specific than that. They’re suggestive of something more general or, perhaps, ephemeral. Another way to think about is that a clue provides an answer, but a hint suggests a question.

This doesn’t, however, mean that a hint is necessarily subtle. Stuff like

• A bloody handprint smeared across the wall;
• A portrait with the eyes gouged out; or
• The front door of Alicia’s house being ajar when you arrive

can all be very obvious and in-your-face, even if it’s not entirely clear what’s going on.

Other hints, though, might be so subtle that the players might not even realize they were significant until later, like:

• Broken pieces of glass on the floor of a dungeon corridor.
• “Silver snakes” being mentioned off-handedly or metaphorically in several different lore books.
• A slightly greasy residue on a door handle.

Hints are not just random set dressing, though. They are, in fact, hinting at something. (It’s right in the name.) It’s just that they are so fractured, partial, distorted, or incomplete in their nature that their true meaning cannot be fully perceived. The difference between photograph and a dim shape glimpsed murkily through a thick fog.

USING HINTS

Hints can be used to achieve a number of different effects.

They can set mood or tone for a scenario. Basic examples include simple signals that “something weird is going on here” or “something terrible happened here.”

They can also serve as a warning of danger. This can be highly situational, but whether it’s a bloody knife or a broken vase of flowers lying on the kitchen floor, PCs who take the hint might realize it’s time to draw their guns, call the cops, or activate their shielding charm.

Similarly, a hint can be a signal to investigate. A sort of, “Hey! Look over here!” Whatever the PCs find upon taking a closer look, of course, may have nothing to do with the original hint.

Tip: A hint suggesting the presence of a trap can be a fun combination of danger warning and investigation signal.

Hints can also more broadly serve as a form of foreshadowing. Why did all the toy soldiers have their legs ripped off? While initially being just a creepy-yet-enigmatic detail, the truth will become apparent when the PCs meet the legless zombie boy who’s been locked up in the attic.

Something to be aware of when using hints is that there’s not always a sharp distinction between a clue and a hint. Players can also be devilishly insightful, so don’t be surprised when they perform a bit of intuitive judo and somehow glean great truths from the most inscrutable details.

This is, of course, just fine: The goal of a mystery, after all, is for the investigators to acquire knowledge, and the players will likely be incredibly stoked to have solved such a fiendishly difficult riddle.

But it can be a useful reminder that, if there’s something the PCs absolutely must NOT know (for whatever reason), then even hinting at it may be dangerous. You might get some mileage from figuring out how to hint at the thing that hints at the truth. That ought to slow them down… for a few scenes, at least.

Next: Proactive Nodes

Raiders of the Serpent Sea is a third-party campaign for D&D 5^th Edition created by Brent Knowles, the lead designer of Dragon Age Origins, and released by Arcanum Worlds, who are also the publishers of Odyssey of the Dragonlords, Heroes of Baldur’s Gate, Minsc & Boo’s Journal of Villainy, and Chains of Asmodeus.

The campaign is set in a world inspired by Norse mythology, with the PCs as reavers seeking the immortality of glory in the shadow of a Ragnorak-esque apocalypse. When it hit Kickstarter I’d already been scoping out sea-based campaigns, and I’m always a sucker for Norse mythology, so it was nearly a no-brainer for me to back the five-hundred page mega-tome.

This, however, is not a review of the campaign book. It is, instead a review of the Player’s Guide that accompanies the campaign.

Personally, I’ve grown quite skeptical of player’s guides. In theory, the idea of a slim, slickly produced book that I could give to my players to get them amped up for an impending campaign sounds like a great idea. In practice, however, I’m almost always underwhelmed. The biggest problem tends to be that they’re cheaply produced by mostly copy-pasting text from the main book, which would be okay if it was properly rewritten for the players. But it frequently isn’t, resulting in a book that I can’t give to players without inundating them with spoilers that are better delivered during actual play. The result is a book with no utility at all.

It’s probably not surprising, therefore, that I skipped right past the Raiders of the Serpent Sea player’s guide and went directly to the main campaign book.

I quickly realized, however, that this was a mistake. The main campaign book kept referring to material from the Player’s Guide, and it quickly became apparent that this guide was, in fact, essential. Far from an afterthought, it had been designed as an integral part of the campaign.

So I set the campaign book aside and pulled out the Player’s Guide.

And I was deeply impressed by what I found.

THE WORLD OF GRIMNIR

The world of Grimnir was born from apocalypse: The Yoten had invaded the lands of the Vanir and, thanks to the betrayal of the mage-turned-god named Mirgal, had driven them to the verge of destruction. In the final battle, Aldyhn, the leader of the Vanir, slew Mirgal and performed a powerful rite which turned his blood and flesh and bone into the seeds of a new world. The Vanir fled into this new world, leaving the Yoten trapped behind.

The legacy of apocalypse, however, lies deep within the rock and waves of Grimnir, and now this world, too, is threatened with destruction.

As presented in this primer, I really like the world of Grimnir. It’s not just history with the numbers scratched off. Knowles has been legitimately inspired by myth and legend, and then built creatively from that inspiration to create something unique and fascinating.

For example, not all of the inhabitants of Grimnir crossed over from the old world. There are native peoples who were born with the world. Which raises a fascinating and fantastic dilemma: To whom does the world belong? Those who created it or those born to it? Both? Neither?

The gods, it should be noted, are not the Norse gods. Again, Knowles has taken inspiration, but created a legacy of fresh myth, redolent of Norse themes — of divine betrayals in a world born of betrayal; of a struggle against inevitable nihilism; of a warrior’s glory and doom — in new-minted wonder.

The major factions of Grimnir are the Raiders (i.e., your Viking heroes), the Baendur Kingdoms (young kingdoms ripe for raiding), and the Witches of the Ironwood (servants of a dark lord).

My only gripe with the presentation of Grimnir in the Player’s Guide is that the two-page map world map was printed with nearly all of the label layers turned off. I’m fairly certain this was a production error, but it makes the gazetteer and description of the world almost incoherent. If you’re giving the Player’s Guide to your players, I recommend also giving them a copy of the properly labeled world map from the full campaign book.

(To be honest, even with the labels turned on, there seem to be some inconsistencies between the map’s depiction of the world and the text. But it definitely helps.)

BACKGROUNDS

Raiders of the Serpent Sea includes several “epic backgrounds.” These backgrounds — the Bonded, the Cursed Raider, the Fallen, the Royal Heir, and the Vigilant One — are designed to be taken instead of the normal backgrounds from the Player’s Handbook.

What makes these epic backgrounds particularly notable is that they’ve been integrated into the campaign. While still giving the player a ton of freedom for customizing the details of their character, they provide a starting story connection, along with heroic tasks and epic goals seem to be designed so that they can potentially be achieved in several different ways during the campaign.

Now, I haven’t seen how the campaign actually executes on this concept from the other side, so I don’t know how well it actually pulls this off. But I like this A LOT.

I’ve talked before about how you should create characters who are integrated into the campaign, and also how published adventures are forced to feature generic hooks (since they don’t know your campaign or who your PCs are), but that you can super-charge your campaign by making the hooks specific to your group.

When you start talking about published campaigns, on the other hand — instead of modular scenarios — it seems odd that so many of them are still designed around the bland, generic hooks. The players will be creating characters for this specific campaign, right? So, unlike a modular adventure, a campaign book can absolutely give you and your players guidance on creating characters who will be deeply tied to the campaign.

So it’s very exciting to see Raiders of the Serpent Sea do this in a robust and interactive way.

PLAYABLE RACES

Raiders of the Serpent Sea includes several new playable races.

Beastborn are literally animals who see a humanoid community, become enamored of their lives, and  become human themselves in order to experience the lives they see. The book includes guidelines for customizing your own beastborn based on any animal, along with prebuilt options for hunter-gatherers, fish, and fowl.

Grims can sort of be thought of as merpeople, but with a distinctly Norse flavor to them. Importantly, they are the native children of Grimnir, their souls touched by the dead demigod who gave their world existence.

Tallfolk are small giants, their origins shrouded in mystery. They are always found as babes on the edges of the forests near Turnfjall, but none are certain who their parents are or why they are abandoned to become foundlings.

Tuss have the blood of the hated Yoten flowing through their veins. They can live their lives as humans — many are not even aware of their secret birthright — but in times of great stress or need, their Yoten blood may reveal itself.

Wicker are tree-golems, created to serve some ancient purpose which has been long-forgotten, even by themselves.

I really like all of these options. I’m probably not doing a great job of capturing the flavor, history, and unique identity that drips off the page here.

In fact, although the book assumes that you’ll be including the standard array of D&D races, I would be strongly tempted to ditch all of that while running Raiders of the Serpent Sea and use only humans and the original races presented here.

CLASS ARCHETYPES

The last big chunk of the Player’s Guide are twelve class archetypes, one for each of the core classes in the Player’s Handbook.

I haven’t personally playtested any of these archetypes, so I can’t be entirely certain how they work in actual play. But, reading through them, I really like that the design seems to be willing to take some BIG swings, which particularly manifests in a willingness to embrace bold, exciting flavor even if it can’t necessarily be nailed down to a convenient, combat-optimized mechanical package.

So you end up with a monk who is the chosen Wanderer, positioned by Fate at the fulcrum of reality. A wolf-riding ranger. Rogues who choose worship the dead god from whose bones the world was forged. Sorcerers who become disconnected from reality, believing that either they or the entire world is an illusion.

And so forth. Just grand, daring concepts that capture the imagination and are backed up with clever unique class abilities.

CONCLUSION

The rest of the Player’s Guide is fleshed out with a medley of interesting stuff:

• New spells;
• Ships for the PCs to own (although the actual ship rules appear to be in the campaign book);
• A one-page primer of the world for quickly introducing players who don’t want to read the full guide;
• Equipment;
• Mechanics for oaths, curses, and glory.

A surprisingly rich treasure trove for a slim, 80-page volume.

Ultimately, the Raiders of the Serpent Sea Player’s Guide turned me from a skeptic into a believer. It got me excited to read the full campaign, I’m certain it will get players amped up to actually play in the campaign, and it’s easy to imagine it being an erstwhile companion at the table for the duration of the campaign.

GRADE: B+

Designer: Brent Knowles
Additional Writing: Gage Ford, Atlantis Fraess, Carter Knowles, Linden Knowles, Brandon Korolik, Zack Webb

Publisher: Arcanum Worlds
Cost: $8.00 (PDF)
Page Count: 80

Buy Now!

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

It’s here!

For those braving their first dungeon, it’s a step-by-step guide. As one delves deeper into mysteries, raids, heists, wilderness exploration, and urbancrawls, So You Want to Be a Game Master transforms into the ultimate GM’s survival guide.

If you still need to snag your copy, it’s available in both physical and e-book formats from these fine purveyors of the written word, plus other bookstores and game stores worldwide:

Hard to believe this is really happening!

If you’re a fan of the Alexandrian and would like to support the book, the next couple of weeks are a really critical juncture. Some things you can do:

Buy the book. See above!

Buy the book for other people. I know it’s crass commercialism, but this book is the perfect gift for your GM. Or, if you’re already a GM, for players you think would be interested in running a game for the first time.

After direct support, the biggest thing is letting people know about the book. This could include:

• Taking a picture of the book when you get it and posting it to social media.
• Retweeting/reposting my social media posts when you see them (on BlueSky, Mastodon, or Twitter).
• Link to the reviews, interviews, and other media appearances I’ve done for the book. You can find links here.
• Link to my Youtube videos talking about the book.
• Mention the book on reddit, social media, Discord, etc. when it’s legitimately relevant to a conversation. (Don’t spam, please!)

Make a library request and ask your local library to carry a copy of the book!

It also makes a big difference if, after reading the book, you write a review. This only needs to be a few sentences, but it can be posted sites like:

• Amazon
• Barnes & Noble
• Goodreads
• Indigo
• BAM!
• Blackwell’s

And did you know that you could post the same review on multiple sites? Cool fact.

Go to Part 1

GM: Okay, the orc stabs Derek’s paladin. Let’s see… We’re on… 17. Anyone on 17…?

16…?

15…?

14…?

Julia: I’m on 14!

GM: Okay, the goblins are, too. What’s your Dexterity score?

Julia: 12.

GM: You’ll go first.

(a minute later)

GM: Anyone on 13? How about 12?

Don’t be this guy.

If you’ve never experienced this at the table, you might find it hard to believe that this is a thing that actually happens, but it’s surprisingly common. I constantly find myself playing in games like this at conventions. I’ve even seen it happen in games using a VTT, which I find particularly baffling since it’s usually pretty trivial to set these up to auto-track initiative results.

It seems that for some people this is just the way they think RPGs are supposed to work.

The problem, of course, is pacing. Or, rather, the complete lack of it. In addition to wasting huge swaths of time with this inane call-and-response ritual, it also completely disrupts any sense of flow or build in the combat encounter. Each action becomes an isolated island floating in a vast sea of numeric chanting.

It’s also prone to mistakes and confusion, as calls are missed or initiative check results are forgotten.

WRITE IT DOWN

The solution, of course, is to simply write down the group’s initiative results, sorting them into a list so that you can tell in a single glance whose turn is next.

This list not only eliminates the dead time of the call-and-response, it can also unlock other techniques for improving the pace of your combat encounters. For example, it allows you to put players on deck.

GM: Derek, you’re up. Julia, you’re on deck.

This lets the player know that it’s time to figure out exactly what they want to do, making it far more likely, when their turn arrives, that they’ll be ready to jump straight into action.

(The advanced technique is that you don’t always need to do this, as you’ll learn how to read the table and know when upcoming players need the cue to refocus. With some groups you may even be able to build on this by having player pre-roll their attacks and so forth, further improving the pace and focus of play.)

Of course, in some roleplaying games it won’t be necessary to write down initiative scores at all. For example, in the Infinity roleplaying game I designed, the PCs always go first (in any order they choose), but the NPCs can “jump” up and interrupt their actions if the GM spends a meta-currency called Heat. The only thing you need to keep track of in that system is which characters have gone on the current turn.

In other RPGs, however, writing down initiative may be easier said than done. To take an extreme example, consider Feng Shui, which uses shot-based initiative in which:

• Characters roll their initiative and that is the Shot in which they take their first action of the round, starting with the highest Shot.
• Each action has a shot cost, which is subtracted from the character’s current Shot value, creating a new Shot value.
• When the round counts down to that Shot, the character can then take their next action, subtracting the shot cost, and repeating until all characters have hit Shot 0 and the round ends.

It seems as if this system would basically require the GM to count down, right? Who’s going on Shot 18? Who’s going on Shot 17? Who’s going on Shot 16? And so forth.

But all that’s really required is a different form of recordkeeping.

This is, in fact, why Feng Shui includes a shot counter: a physical track that can be used, in combination with counters or miniatures, to keep track of which characters are acting on which shot. In practice, this counter should be placed on the table in full view of the players, allowing everyone to see at a glance the sequence of upcoming actions.

(See Feng Shui: Using the Shot Counter for a longer discussion of advanced techniques this tool can also unlock.)

GM DON’T #16.1: DON’T WRITE ANYTHING DOWN

Flipping things around, initiative is not the only part of a roleplaying game where you can run into these inefficiencies. Pay attention to any interaction where you’re repeatedly asking the players to deliver the same piece of information over and over again, and then eliminate that interaction by proactively recording the information so that you don’t have to ask for it.

Armor Class in D&D is a common example of this. How often are you asking your players what their AC is while resolving attacks? If it’s more than once a session (at most), it’s probably too often.

A good place to record this information would be a Post-It swap note for your GM screen, putting it literally at your fingertips whenever you need it.

There are, however, a couple of exceptions to this that are worth noting.

First, any value that is frequently shifting during play, since this increases both the hassle of bookkeeping and the likelihood of error. A technique that can work here, however, is to enlist the players’ help by making them responsible for keeping the reference up to date: This might be a tent card that sits in front of each player with the relevant values. Or, in a VTT, it might be a shared note or file that everyone can keep updated.

Second, you don’t want to accidentally preempt mechanics or abilities that allow the players to react to specific actions, particularly if it might modify the value in question. (“What’s your AC?”, for example, also doubles as a convenient notification that a PC is being attacked and has the opportunity to activate their salamander cloak.) You can frequently route around this by simply being aware of the issue and making sure to include the appropriate prompts without the extraneous numerical exchange, but it’s definitely worth being aware of the potential issue.

FURTHER READING
Random GM Tip: Collecting Initiative

Go to Part 17: Too Many Players