Go to Part 1

Here are a few advanced pointcrawl techniques you may find useful. Or you can ignore them entirely. Or mix-and-match them. They’re tools. Use the right ones for the job.

Some of them may be more immediately obvious in player-known pointcrawls (where the players can directly invoke them), but they can also be useful for GMs looking to interpret PC actions into a player-unknown pointcrawl.

Some of these advanced procedures include suggested mechanics. For clarity, I’ve chosen to present these as they might be used in a D&D 5^th Edition campaign, but they can be easily adapted to other RPGs by simply using the appropriate skills and difficulty numbers for your system of choice.

PATH TYPES

The paths in a pointcrawl can be differentiated by type. Examples might include:

• Roads (including further distinctions between highways/thoroughfares vs. byways/side streets)
• Tracks
• River
• Landmark chain
• Supernatural (portals, fairy paths, etc.)
• Stairs/Shafts
• Mazes

On your pointmap, these types might be indicated by color, line type (dotted, double, etc.), labels, or other iconography. They can be useful for purely descriptive purposes (“you follow the River Wyth as it wends its way through the Forlorn Hills”), but might also be distinguished by:

• Modifying travel time (this could also be done for terrain type)
• Requiring skill checks
• Requiring (or preferring) certain types of vehicles, mounts, or spells

Not every pointmap, of course, needs to feature every single type of path. Think about which paths are most useful and relevant to the pointcrawl you’re designing, and then see if there’s a way that you can make the different types of paths clear and significant.

PARALLEL PATHS: Once you have multiple types of paths in your pointcrawl, it opens the possibility of having two points connected by not just one, but two (or more) paths simultaneously. If you do this, the key thing is to make sure that the paths are distinguished by choice and not just calculation. (For example, if you have two paths and the only difference is that one is faster than the other, the PCs will always take the faster path. Just don’t bother including the other one. On the other hand, if one path is faster but you need to make a skill check to traverse it safely, you now have a meaningful choice in which path to take. Thinking About Wilderness Travel takes a more detailed look at this issue.)

HIDDEN ROUTES

A hidden route in a pointcrawl is simple a connection between two points that is not immediately obvious; i.e., the PCs have to find the route before they can use it. In a wilderness this might be illusory druid paths. In a city it might be linked teleportation circles or perhaps the sewers.

Hidden routes are often discovered as part of a scenario or while exploring a particular location (i.e., you’re looking around the crypts beneath the Cathedral and discover a tunnel heading to the Harbor). In some cases, discovering the hidden route might be as easy as making an Intelligence (Investigation) or Wisdom (Perception) check to find the route.

SHORTCUTS & SIDE ROUTES

The PCs want to move from one point to another without moving through the points between. (For example, they want to go directly to the Trollfens without first passing by the weird red rock. Or they want to go south to the Docks without passing through Shiarra’s Market.) What happens?

In some pointcrawls this might not be possible. (You can’t walk through solid rock.) In a typical wilderness it might require trailblazing (using the procedure below). In a typical, safe city, on the other hand, it usually just means getting off the major thoroughfares and circling around on side streets, and probably just happens automatically.

SIMPLE SIDE ROUTES:

• Determine an appropriate base time. (If they’re trying to go the long way around to bypass something, you can probably set this to whatever the travel time would have been going the normal way. If they’re trying to save time by using an unorthodox shortcut, eyeball the best case scenario.)
• Make a random encounter check.
• Make an appropriate skill check. (This is probably a Wisdom-based check. Perhaps Wisdom (Stealth) if their goal is to avoid attention, or Wisdom (Survival) if they’re trying to cross a trackless waste.)
• If the check is successful, they arrive at their intended location.
• If the check is a failure, then they’re lost and will need to make another check. If they were trying to avoid trouble, the trouble finds them. Either way, they’ll need to repeat the random encounter check and the skill check until they succeed.

TRAILBLAZING

Trailblazing reduces the party’s speed by one-half (adjust the base time of the journey appropriately), but also marks an efficient trail through the wilderness with some form of signs — paint, simple carvings, cloth flags, etc. Once blazed, a trail is effectively added to the pointmap.

Note: If the strata you’re using for your pointcrawl is a wilderness hexcrawl map, you can alternatively use the hexcrawl trailblazing mechanics to create these new trails.

HIDDEN SIGNS: The signs of a trail can be followed by any creature. When blazing a trail, however, the character making the signs can attempt a Wisdom (Stealth) check to disguise them so that they can only be noticed or found with an opposed Wisdom (Perception) or Intelligence (Investigation) check.

You don’t need to make a check to follow your own hidden signs (or the hidden signs of a trail you’ve followed before). Those who are aware of the trail’s existence but who have not followed it before gain advantage on their skill check to follow it.

OPTIONAL RULE – OLD TRAILS: Most trail signs are impermanent and likely to decay over time. There is a 1 in 6 chance per session that a trail will decay from good repair to weather worn; from weather worn to poor repair; or from poor repair to no longer existing.

Someone traveling along a weather worn trail can restore it to good repair as long as they are not traveling at fast pace. Trails in poor repair require someone to travel along them at the trailblazing travel pace to restore it to good repair.

Note: You might use these same guidelines for similar trails on your original pointmap. But it can be assumed that any trails in regular use — whether by the PCs or otherwise — either won’t decay or won’t decay past poor repair.

TRAVEL PACE

You can use D&D 5^th Edition travel pace in a pointcrawl fairly easily. I recommend simplifying/fudging the normal travel distances:

• Slow Pace: 1 interval per watch
• Normal Pace: 2 intervals per watch
• Fast Pace: 3 intervals per watch

(You can replace “watch” with whatever timespan is most useful for the pointcrawl.)

ALTERNATIVE 1: Indicate the connection length in standard intervals, but then separately indicate interval duration for normal, slow (¾), and fast (x1.5) travel paces.

You may also want to reduce the chance of a random encounter for fast travel paces. (Slow travel paces would theoretically result in more checks, but in 5^th Edition this is usually cancelled out by the reduced encounter chance due to the extra caution being taken.)

ALTERNATIVE 2: Reference the pointcrawl’s strata and calculate the actual distance (and terrain modifiers). Then simply use the standard rules for travel pace to calculate time, making encounter checks per watch. (The disadvantage here is that you’re adding a lot of unnecessary complexity to your pointcrawl procedure.)

ADDENDUM
Depthcrawls

Pointcrawls are a pretty straightforward scenario structure: You create a map with locations which are connected with paths, forming a node map. If you want to get more clinical in your descriptions, you can also refer to the locations as points (hence the first half of the name) and the paths as connectors. During play, PCs in a location can choose one of the paths connected to that location and travel along it to another location. They can thus crawl (there’s the other half of the name) through the pointmap.

The concept of the pointcrawl was first formalized by Chris Kutalik on his Hill Cantons blog in 2014, although antecedents can be found. For example, Dragons of Hope, the third Dragonlance Chronicles module, features a proto-pointcrawl of linked regions. Even the famous, multicolored tube map of the London Underground first designed by Harry Beck (and seen above) displays similar properties.

THE MANY-HEADED POINT

What makes the pointcrawl so versatile as a scenario structure is that each “point” can be literally any point of interest. It might be extremely specific, like “that strange red rock outside of town.” Or it could be very large, like “the city of Warnock” or “the Kingdom of Catalac.” The structure can even be adapted to other milieus entirely, with points like “the VR server of Thunderdome, MLC.”

The structure is quite flexible, with points of different “scale” easily coexisting. (For example, “that strange red rock outside of town” and “the city of Warnock” could easily both appear on the same pointmap.) It can also be trivially fractal, with the point on one pointmap being an entirely self-contained pointcrawl in its own right.

LITERAL vs. ABSTRACT PATHS

A pointcrawl exists within a strata, and to truly understand, design, and run the pointcrawl, you need to have an understanding of that underlying reality. For example, the city of Warnock and our strange red rock aren’t just floating nebulously in a hypothetical node map: The red rock lies east of Warnock in the Forest of Arden. Or maybe it instead lies to the west on the far side of the Daggerpoint Mountains.

Understanding this will allow you to answer questions like:

• Which connections exist (and don’t exist) in the first place?
• How long does it take to travel from point to another?
• How should you describe the journey along the path?

And so forth.

The most literal application of a pointcrawl system is to model wilderness travel along a trail system (i.e., the connections between points are literally wilderness trails or roads running between those locations). These are examples of literal paths, and are almost always a player-known structure: The pointmap has a one-to-one correspondence with the game world, and the characters can see the trails or roads that they’re following.

But pointcrawls can also work with abstract paths, which seek to capture the conceptual navigation of an environment in a way that allows you to focus prep and structure play. An example of this is an urban pointcrawl, where a pointcrawl would not for example, include every single street and building in the city. Instead, the connections of an urban pointcrawl represent the way we think about traveling through a city.

This can be a bit harder to get your hands around than literal paths, so how does it actually work?

When the players indicate a navigational intention, the GM basically acts as an “interpreter” who translates that intention into the pointcrawl system, uses the pointcrawl system to resolve it, and then describes the outcome to the players in terms of the fiction.

This works because we naturally think of navigating a city in broad terms. “We need to head west to Lyndale Avenue and then take that south into Edina.” What was the exact route we took to get to Lyndale? Did we take 36^th or 38^th or 42^nd or 46^th? We don’t really care. Particularly in a pre-GPS era, navigation was even more likely to funnel into landmarks and major thoroughfares: Cross the river at such-and-such bridge, head east to the cathedral, and then cut south through Littlehut… and so forth.

The points of the pointcrawl match the mental model we use to navigate through a city.

For example, consider this map of the hellish city of Elturel from the Alexandrian Remix of Descent Into Avernus:

You can see how this navigation works most clearly at Torm’s Bridges (Area 9). Here the conceptual and literal geographical navigation of the city are basically unified; the funnel effect is as literal as possible: If you want to cross the gorge between the western and eastern halves of the city, you’re going to have to cross those bridges.

But this conceptually remains true even when the literal geographical funnel is not so precise: If the PCs decide to head south Area 1, for example, they’re going to pass through Shiarra’s Market (Area 2). Yes, it’s technically possible to take a different route that narrowly avoids the market, but in the absence of intentionality the point-map represents the general “flow” of the city.

You can also see from this example how literal and abstract paths can coexist in the same pointmap: Torm’s Bridges are quite literal; “you’ll pass through Shiarra’s Market on your way to the Docks” is more abstract. The same thing could hold true in our hypothetical wilderness pointcrawl from before (“you can follow all these literal roads, but if you try to cut through the Forest of Arden you’ll bump into the weird red rock”).

So you can really think of this as more of a spectrum options than a hard choice.

EXPLORATION vs. ROUTE-PLANNING

Another finesse to consider here is whether the PCs are exploring the pointmap (i.e., they don’t know what points are available and/or what paths they can take until they discover them) or if they have some sort of map or comparable knowledge which allows them to plan their journeys.

This may or may not be related to whether or not the pointcrawl is a player-known structure. (For example, the PCs might have a diegetic map of Elturel even if the players don’t know that the GM is using a pointcrawl.) Hybrid approaches are also quite common, with some routes or points being known while others remain secrets to be discovered. And, of course, an exploration model will naturally turn into route-planning as the PCs make their discoveries and create their own maps.

THINGS YOU’RE LIKELY TO SAY

Things you’re likely to say while running a pointcrawl include:

• “Crossing Waterloo Bridge, you head south past the London Eye to Lambeth Palace.” (The PCs are leaving a vampire den somewhere near Covent Garden. Waterloo Bridge, the London Eye, and Lambeth Palace are all locations on the pointmap. In this case, the players already have some familiarity — or perhaps a great deal of familiarity — with the city, recognizing these locations without the GM needing to elaborately describe them.
• “Following the bonsai turtles, you pass through an arch in the hedgerow and find yourselves standing at the top of an ancient amphitheater. Benches of worn stone descend to a circular area where three of the bonsai turtles have already gathered. On the far side of the amphitheater you can see two other arches like the one you’ve just come through, leading to other paths through the Maze.” (The amphitheater is a location the PCs have just discovered. The GM is indicating the existence of two other paths, leading to other locations, that the PCs could follow.)
• “You’ve been following the deer path for a couple of hours when Lavid hears the distinctive hooting call of the local goblin tribe. It sounds like they’re coming down the path from the opposite direction.” (The PCs are currently traveling along a connection and a random encounter has been triggered.)
• “You take Nephranter’s Street through the Court of the White Bull and then south to the Caravan Court.” (The nodes here are the Court of the White Bull and Caravan Court. “Nephranter Street” is a way of contextualizing the journey; it’s pulled from the strata of the Waterdeep city map to describe the abstract path. The GM could just as easily say “…passing through the bustling crowds of River Street before reaching Caravan Court” or simply “…you cross the Trade Ward to Caravan Court.”)
• “You’ve reached the weird red rock. Do you want to head north towards the Trollfens or south towards the Black Bog?” (The weird red rock, Trollfens, and Black Bog are obviously all points which the PCs are familiar with.)

Although the examples vary, in each case the basic structure of connection-point-connection-point becomes a comfortable framework for the GM to describe the journey, and for the players to understand it and make choices during it.

BASIC POINTCRAWL PROCEDURES

The basic procedures for a pointcrawl are very simple.

STEP 1 – FOLLOW A PATH. The PCs choose one of the paths connected to their current point and follow it.

Time: The length of time it takes to follow a path may be standardized for an entire pointcrawl. (For example, you may assume it always takes 10-15 minutes to move from point to another in an urban setting.) Alternatively, different connections may take different amounts of time. If so, this can be indicated directly on the map using either small numbers or dots (with each dot representing one standard interval of time). In setting these times, you’ll most likely be taking the strata of the pointcrawl into account (e.g., traveling one mile down an open road will take less time than traveling ten miles through the tangled bracken of a wild forest).

STEP 2 – RANDOM ENCOUNTER. Check for a random encounter.

Procedure: Any number of random encounter procedures could be employed here. I discuss these options in more detail in Part 5 of the 5E Hexcrawls series. If you are using standard time intervals for your connections, you might consider making one check per interval.

STEP 3 – ARRIVAL. The PCs arrive at the next point.

If the PCs are in a point on the pointmap, you can simply follow this procedure. If for some reason they’ve slipped “off” the pointmap, simply funnel them logically into the pointmap and continue from there. (You might be able to assume they’re “at” the nearest point on the map; e.g., they may not be at the cathedral, but they’re close enough that they’re basically “coming from the cathedral” as far as other points are concerned. Alternatively, if you want to get all formal with it, you can think of their current location as a “temporary point” and think about how it would attach to the pointmap.)

Go to Part 2: Advanced Pointcrawl Procedures

DISCUSSING
In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 30B: Golems & Ghouls

As Agnarr leapt into their midst, he could see one of them peeling flesh from its own arm and chewing on it.

“They’re eating themselves?!” Agnarr could hear Elestra’s horrified gasp from behind him, but he paid it little heed as he hacked his way through the ghouls.

For a moment it seemed as if Agnarr would dispatch them all – his flaming blade tore easily through their frail frames. But then the last of them leapt suddenly upon him and got its teeth into him.

This might be a little early to talk about this, but over the rest of this session and the next few sessions you’re going to see a lot of horrific beasties and strange curses get unleashed in the Banewarrens, by both the PCs and NPCs.

Something you’ll notice (albeit not with these ghouls), that most of these banes will either (a) attempt to flee after engaging the PCs or (b) target someone other than the PCs as their first (or subsequent) action. This, of course, creates long-running problems for the PCs, as they deal with the consequences of these ancient evils breaking loose into Ptolus or just wreaking havoc on their allies.

This is, of course, thematically appropriate for the Banewarrens, which were originally built to lock all of these banes away from the world; sealing them in a prison from which they were never meant to escape. Whether you agree with the Banelord’s belief that there’s a Principle of the Conservation of Evil that the universe abides by or not, there’s little question that mucking around down there not only risks releasing a whole bunch of evil stuff, but also a whole armada of ethical questions about your responsibility for having done so.

But this also reflects a broader GMing tenet I believe in: Spray your bullets.

What I mean by this is that when we think about releasing something into our campaign, we have a tendency to think about it strictly in terms of how it might intersect and affect the PCs: There’s a phase-shifting troll loose in the Banewarrens, when will it attack the party?

In other words, we aim it very precisely at the PCs.

This makes a lot of sense, because, of course, the other players are sitting at the table with us. Our entire focus is on continually generating and communicating the fictional game space for them to take their actions in. So there’s an obvious predilection, whenever something might happen in the game world, for us to aim it at the PCs. It’s target fixation.

What I’m suggesting is that, when we shoot stuff into the campaign, we should get a little sloppier with our aim: Don’t just hit the PCs. Start hitting stuff all around them. Their friends, their allies, innocent bystanders, even their enemies. To continue our metaphor, let stuff ricochet around a little bit and see what happens.

The ricochet is actually quite important, though, because if stuff happens and the players never learn about it (or its consequences), then it’s probably wasted prep. So you want to have stuff impact things around the PCs, but then you want the consequences of that to ricochet into the PCs: they read the newspaper headlines, they find the body, their friend calls them for help.

The benefit, of course, is that this makes the game feel more dynamic and believable: The PCs aren’t the only people who exist, moving through a world of shadow puppets. Instead, the world is filled with people who seem to be living lives of their own.

And this will also mean, when the bullets in question are being shot in response to the PCs’ actions, that their choices will become even more meaningful.

Campaign Journal: Session 30C – Running the Campaign: Honor Choice with Judo
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

SESSION 30B: GOLEMS & GHOULS

September 20th, 2008
The 16th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

The rest of the group returned to the Banewarrens. They had not yet finished exploring the farthest reaches of the complex and, since they had nothing better to do while guarding the door, they decided to finish their sweep.

Opening the last of the unopened doors leading out of the generator room, they looked into a wide hall leading to another of the rune-encrusted and warded doors. In the center of the hall, a 12-foot-tall statue of a helmed warrior, made out of interlocking metal plates, stood like a vigilant guard. Patches of rust could be seen on it here and there.

Fearing that it might be a golem or, failing that, some other sort of trap, Tee entered the hall cautiously. Unfortunately, her caution was in vain. Scarcely had she crossed the threshold before the statue suddenly leapt into motion, charging down the length of the hall and slamming its heavy iron fists into her chest.

Tee was thrown back by the ferocious blow. Her head smashed against the wall and she slid to the ground, slumping into unconsciousness.

In some ways, however, this proved fortunate for her. No sooner had the iron golem delivered its tremendous blow than it was seized with a violent vibration which shuddered through its iron plates. A moment later a pulse of magical force burst from it – catching Agnarr in mid-stride as he rushed towards it with his sword drawn and throwing him backwards with a muscle-rending jolt.

And then it simply fell apart. From the seams of its broken form a strange substance poured like thick syrup, glowing with a strange blue light that seemed to sear the retina.

Dominic, with a rush of concern, dashed to Tee’s side. But she hadn’t been badly hurt. In fact, he was able to rouse her easily.

Agnarr had scrambled back to his feet and backed cautiously away from the oozing heap of misjointed metal. Tee, in frustration, gave the heap a spiteful kick and—

It exploded in a hail of semi-molten metal. Shards of the former golem embedded themselves deeply into the walls of the chamber.

Tee spent the next several minutes with Dominic prying shards of metal from her arms and legs.

THE TALE OF A TRAITOR KNIGHT

“What?” Tor gaped.

“It’s true. Kabel and several other traitorous knights attacked the Cathedral. They were driven back and the Godskeep was shut against them.”

“What happened to Kabel? Was he killed?”

“No. He and several of the other traitors managed to escape. Sir Gemmell is pursuing them now.”

The knights loyal to Rehobath and Sir Gemmell were wearing red sashes to identify themselves. (“Red for the novarch’s robes,” the knight explained.) Kalerecent took one and Tor, keeping his private reservations to himself, did as well.

Kalerecent was uncertain what they should do: The Godskeep had been ordered shut until Sir Gemmell’s return, which meant that Rasnir’s body couldn’t be brought into the chapel. “Nor do I want him to lay here on this common field where his blood might mix with the blood of traitors.”

Tor explained that Rehobath himself was interested in the Banewarrens. He felt that they should report directly to him.

But when they tried to reach him, they found themselves stymied by the bureaucracy of the Cathedral. They were eventually escorted to a small antechamber within the Cathedral by one of the priests and told to wait.

They did so patiently and, in due time, Brother Heth Neferul arrived. Tor and Kalerecent quickly told their tales of the Banewarrens. When Heth was satisfied, he asked them to wait again and turned to leave.

“A moment, please,” Tor said.

Heth turned back to him. “Yes?”

Tor chose his words carefully. “We were told of Sir Kabel’s betrayal. I have reason to believe that he may have been… compelled in this treachery by the recent chaotic events that have been happening throughout Ptolus.”

“You believe he may not have been in his right mind?”

“It’s a possibility,” Tor said. “I have found Kabel to be a loyal and honorable man. There would need to be some reason for him to do what he has done.”

“I see.” Heth nodded. “I will mention this to Sir Gemmell.”

He turned and left them alone.

THE FLESH-FEASTING GHOULS

Tee broke the seal on the door that the malfunctioning golem had been guarding. Then she stepped back and waved Agnarr into position.

Agnarr opened the door. Beyond it he saw a long chamber of dust-ridden stone. Near the center of the chamber, also covered in thick, choking dust, crouched four corpse-like ghouls, their skin blackened with bruises of dead, coagulated blood. At the sudden motion of the door in their ancient prison, the ghouls turned with creaking suddenness – staring hungrily with their black, pulsing eyes; their dry, parched mouths hanging open to reveal countless, needle-like teeth.

The moment hung for an instant, and then the ghouls burst into motion with horrible speed – their ancient limbs casting up clouds of dust as they bounded towards the open door.

Agnarr slammed it in their faces.

They took a moment to gather themselves. Agnarr could hear the ghouls snuffling around on the opposite side of the door, but he waited until he had met the eyes of his companions and made sure that they were ready.

Then he smashed the door open again. The heavy iron caved in the skull of one of the ghouls. As Agnarr leapt into their midst, he could see one of them peeling flesh from its own arm and chewing on it.

“They’re eating themselves?!” Agnarr could hear Elestra’s horrified gasp from behind him, but he paid it little heed as he hacked his way through the ghouls.

For a moment it seemed as if Agnarr would dispatch them all – his flaming blade tore easily through their frail frames. But then the last of them leapt suddenly upon him and got its teeth into him.

The thing’s poison rushed into the barbarian’s veins. Agnarr felt his joints lock almost instantly and he fell with a heavy thud to the floor. The ghoul was upon him in an instant, tearing gouges of flesh out of his back and feasting upon them.

The ghoul was so lost in its blood-lust that it scarcely seemed to notice when Dominic caved in its skull with his mace.

Dominic managed to get Agnarr back on his feet and used his holy powers to purge any remnants of disease from the wounds on his back.

They decided that it would be better to wait for Tor to return before continuing their explorations. There had been a moment of true fear when they had seen Agnarr felled. Having Tor’s blade would make them all feel safer.

They retreated back to the room that Kalerecent had been holed up in, thinking it to be fairly defensible, and settled down to wait.

THE AFFAIRS OF THE CHURCH

Brother Heth Neferul returned with Rehobath, Sister Mara, and Brother Thad.

Thad quickly crossed to Tor and shook his hand enthusiastically. “Master Tor! Such an honor to see you again! Whenever I think of the important work you’re doing… And to travel with the Chosen of Vehthyl! It must be such an hon—“

“Brother Thad.” Rehobath’s cold voice sliced through the young priest’s ebullience. “Sir Kalerecent and Master Tor. I am glad to see you both. Brother Neferul has told me all that you have told him. I am sorry to be so brief with you, but – as you know – there are other affairs demanding my time.”

“Yes, of course,” Tor said.

“Brother Thad believes he may be of some help,” Heth said.

Thad nodded eagerly. “Yes. Of course. While the known lore of the Banewarrens is quite limited – even within the Archives of the Church – and divinations have proven quite limited, now that you have access to the actual contents of at least part of the Banewarrens its possible that certain rituals might prove useful.”

He pulled a scroll from his robes. “This scroll describes an arcane ritual. If Master Ranthir were to perform it in front of the sealed door, it should reveal its secrets. It might even reveal how such a door could be opened.”

“Do we want to open the door?” Tor asked.

“It’s more important than ever that we recover the Sword of Crissa,” Rehobath said. “The troubles of today reveal the deep schism within our faith. With the Sword in our hand we would have a powerful symbol to unify those who have lost faith in the Gods.”

“I’m still worried by these reports of the others seeking to gain access to the Banewarrens,” Sister Mara said. “I think we need to use the Order of the Dawn to secure the entrance.”

“That’s a mistake,” Heth said. “We don’t want to draw undue attention to the site. Besides, Master Tor and his friends have already taken care of those responsible.”

“There may be others.”

“There may be,” Rehobath said. “But in light of our… recent troubles, I think it would be unwise to divide the strength of our Order until certain dangers have been properly dealt with.”

“I will return to that place and stand guard,” Kalerecent said. “I swore an oath by the side of my squire that I would not rest until that evil had been laid to rest. I ask only that I be given an hour to stand vigil by the side of Rasnir’s body. It waits not far from here.”

Rehobath nodded. “So it shall be. And I shall see to it that leave is given for Rasnir’s body to rest in the chapel of the Godskeep.”

Kalerecent knelt and kissed the ring of the novarch.

When the church leaders had left, Tor returned with Kalerecent to the carriage where they had left Rasnir’s body. They carried it to the chapel in the Godskeep and Tor left Kalerecent there, praying over Rasnir’s body.

Running the Campaign: Spray Your Bullets  – Campaign Journal: Session 30C
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

Go to Campaign Status Documents

In any setting prior to the wide adoption of e-mail (and even moreso before readily affordable long-distance phone calls), correspondence with various NPCs is an incredibly natural form of bluebooking: When the PC writes to a correspondent during the session, you can encourage the player to write the actual letter (or telegram or trans-spectral synaptic encoding or whatever) before the next session. And then you can both reward the player, develop that thread of the campaign world, and encourage further correspondence by writing an actual response and giving it to them as a prop.

The great thing about correspondence — like any form of bluebooking — is that it allows the player to remain engaged with the game even when they’re not physically sitting at the table (or participating in the video call). It also affords them an opportunity to engage with their character in a different way, a more introspective and considered way, than they normally would. The benefits of this will often reflect back into how they play their character at the table, too, resulting in richer and deeper roleplaying.

Some games lend themselves particularly well to this dynamic. In Trail of Cthulhu, for example, the players are specifically required to create Sources of Stability during character creation — NPCs who are particularly important to their character and help them retain their grasp on sanity. Mechanically, the PCs must have meaningful interactions with their Sources of Stability in order to recover their Stability score between scenarios. For the globe-hopping Eternal Lies campaign, which naturally took the PCs far away from their Sources of Stability, I allowed the PCs to count each meaningful act of correspondence to count as an interaction.

The result was a rich set of correspondence which kept the PCs connected to a wider world, while also giving the campaign a rich multi-dimensionality that extended beyond the immediate circumstances of the current adventure.

CORRESPONDENCE TRACKER

From the GM’s side of things, however, it can be non-trivial to keep on top of all this correspondence. Particularly if you get a group who is eager and willing to really lean into things, starting up multiple missive chains with a wide cast of characters.

Keeping track of stuff is, of course, exactly what the campaign status document is for. So even if you hadn’t noticed which series this post belongs to, it probably won’t comes as a surprise that I often include a correspondence tracker as a module in my campaign status document.

Here’s what that can look like, taking an actual example from the campaign status document of my first Eternal Lies campaign:

LETTERS AND TELEGRAMS

• 11/17/1934: Robert to Julian (Session 4); response sent to St. Paul (arrives 12/1/1934)
• 1/3/1935 : Robert to Julian (Session 9), mailed from Athens around 1/23/1935, response sent to Allaghmore House on 2/20/1935 (arrives 3/15/1935)
• 1/15/1935: Robert to Rose (Session 9), mailed from Prague around 1/25/1935, response sent to Allaghmore House on 2/22/1935 (arrives 3/15/1935)
• 1/21/1935: Alice to Margaret (Session 9), mailed from Cairo, telegram sent to Allaghmore House on 3/1/1935 – Margaret was given a list of people to investigate
• 1/21/1935: Alice to Cora (Session 9), mailed from Cairo, response sent to Allaghmore House on 2/24/1935 (arrives 3/16/1935) – asked for news from home
• 1/21/1935: Jason to Kitty/Rachel, multiple letters from Cairo (including gifts of turban, Bast statue, and a racist doll)
• 1/21/1935: Jason to Rachel telegram [NEED DRAFT]
• 2/1/1935: Jason to William Dalton (attorney) , telegram sent in response 2/28/1935 – people have been making inquiries about Frankly Aviation
• 2/1/1935: Jason to National Geographic, telegram sent in response 3/5/1935 – National Geographic very interested, would also be interested in McCandalass’ accounts

RESPONSE SCHEDULE

• 12/1/1934: Julian to Robert (waiting in St. Paul)
• 2/28/1935: Telegram from William Dalton to Jason
• 3/1/1935: Telegram from Margaret to Alice
• 3/5/1935: Telegram from National Geographic to Jason
• 3/15/1935: Julian to Robert
• 3/15/1935: Rose to Robert
• 3/16/1935: Cora to Alice
• 3/16/1935: Kitty to Jason [NEEDS DRAFT]

There are a few things to note here.

First, of course, there are dates for correspondence. The utility here seems pretty self-explanatory. I was also indicating what session the correspondence was sent during, but you’ll notice I ended up dropping this. I think this was primarily because, when one of our players got a new job and was leaving town, we ran marathon sessions for two straight weeks in order to wrap up the campaign, so the sessions were really blending together at that point. The intention, though, was that it was easier to find my original notes on the correspondence (when necessary) if I told my future self where those notes were located.

Second, I used the [NEEDS DRAFT] tag to indicate a piece of correspondence which had happened in the campaign, but for which the player had not yet provided me the actual text.

Third, I track the NPC responses in a separate Response Schedule. This indicates when NPC letters would arrive. (Or, more accurately, when they would be available. With the PCs globetrotting and going on weird expeditions into strange corners of the Earth, it often take some time for their mail to catch up with them.) Although I refer to it as a “response” schedule, this list also includes NPC-initiated correspondence, and it would also act as a To Do list for my own letter writing.

Which, it should be noted, is another advantage of correspondence-based play: It also gives you, as the GM, the opportunity to explore your NPCs in a different way, often adding depth to their presentation in countless ways.

Next: Trackers