DISCUSSING
In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 46B: Into the Asylum

Elestra reached out to the memories of Zairic’s corpse through the Spirit of the City. In a horrible, gurgling voice Zairic’s head spoke from it lay atop his corpse, attached by only a slim flap of flesh.

I love speak with dead almost as much as my players do. It’s an essential part of their toolkit whether they’re scouting a dungeon, unraveling a mystery, or probing the depths of a conspiracy. The In the Shadow of the Spire group actually keeps a “dead-icated bag” — a bag of holding for the important corpses they want to hold onto and question again after the one week waiting period has expired.

This means that I need to be prepared for all of their speak with dead antics, which is something I talk about in more detail in Random GM Tip: Speak With Dead Mysteries. (I also talk about how I keep track of the bodies in the dead-icated bag in Campaign Status Module: Trackers.)

But the fun part is figuring out all of the gruesome ways these mangled and half-rotten corpses speak under the influence of the spell.

Zairic, as seen here, is a fairly mundane example (although miming his head hanging on by a flap of skin had a pretty great effect on my players when combined with the gurgling voice), but I try to bring a little bit of flair to these, as seen with Silion back in Session 40:

“We can still ask her a few questions,” Elestra asked. “I can force her body’s memories to speak through the Spirit of the City. But we’ll only be allowed three questions, so we should choose them carefully.”

Tee nodded. “Let’s make sure we get it right.”

They debated the list of questions for the better part of half an hour and then Elestra wove her magic. Silion’s decapitated head rose into the air, its blood dripping in a sickly, coagulate gore down onto its own corpse below.

If speak with dead is a common part of your campaign, you could certainly prep a list of these to use as needed. Personally, I enjoy improvising them — taking into account the dead NPC, the circumstances of their death, their wounds, and even the surrounding scenery wherever the PCs are casting the spell.

A few things to think about in improvising your own speak with dead moments:

• How does their wound affect their voice?
• What unnatural position could the body be contorted into?
• How could the strangeness of the spell impact the surroundings (e.g., spattering blood, rattling bones, the corpse’s severed arm trying to crawl back to the torso from across the room)?
• Is there an overtly supernatural effect (e.g., the body floats into the air or an eery glow emanates from the corpse’s mouth)?

The goal is for the players to viscerally appreciate that what they’re doing is anything but natural or ordinary. (Is it evil? Morally grey? That depends on your morality. But, regardless, it shouldn’t be easy for them to feel comfortable about what they’re doing. It should feel like weird shit, and they probably wouldn’t want their mothers walking into the room while they’re doing it.)

There’s no need to overdo it, though. Just one or two key details are enough to bring the scene to vivid life. Less is more, and if you’ve got a really cool idea… well, there’s always the next corpse.

Campaign Journal: Session 47A – Running the Campaign: TBD
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

SESSION 46B: INTO THE ASYLUM

December 22nd, 2009
The 25th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

Elestra reached out to the memories of Zairic’s corpse through the Spirit of the City. In a horrible, gurgling voice Zairic’s head spoke from his own back.

“Where is Mahdoth?”

“In his chamber by the western cells.”

“Where are all the exits from the asylum?”

“Through the doors onto Childeyes Street. Down through the caverns. And through the walls.”

“Who is bringing the shipment?”

“The Children of Mrathrach.”

They looked at each other. “Math rack?” Elestra asked.

The question of who the Children of Mrathrach were ate away at them, but they needed to keep moving. Speaking with the corpse had taken ten minutes, and although that had afforded them the time to search the room and strip Zairic’s body (and, afterwards, stuff it into a bag of holding), they were now in enemy territory and the clock was ticking.

They proceeded cautiously through the rooms of the upper level to the staircase and then headed down. Convinced that dangers could lurk behind any door, Ranthir filled the air with arcane enhancements… only to find nothing but a storage closet behind the first door they tried.

When Ranthir tried casting another spell at the bottom of the stairs, he discovered that some active force was dampening his connection to the forces of magick. The spell was completely disrupted and lost. Experimenting, they discovered that effects that were conjured upstairs and then brought down into the field were fine, but any actual spellcasting on the lower levels seemed virtually impossible.

Faced with the decision of retracing the path they had taken with Danneth on their previous visit (which led east) and heading into unexplored territory through a southern door, their decision was informed by Zairic’s words: Mahdoth’s chambers lay near the western cells. They weren’t sure where those might be exactly, but they certainly weren’t to be found by going to the east.

So they headed south down a short hallway and into a comfortable, well-organized office with a pair of desks facing each other in the middle of the room and various filing shelves and the like arranged around the walls.

Tee quickly grabbed a stack of paper off one of the desks and quickly scanned it before handing it off to Elestra for further study.

SITUATIONAL REPORT ON DEREGALIS FINORIN

A series of correspondence, all attached under the title of A Situational Report on Deregalis Finorin.

Mahdoth—

The exacerbated excitations of Rinner Silverfind’s condition appear to be worsening rapidly. This in marked contrast to Tabaen and the other victims of the Oldtown event. I would urge you to prioritize his examination before the situation exceeds the limits of our control.

Danneth

Zairic—

Danneth brought this situation to my attention before his recent unpleasantness. Please conduct the appropriate observations to confirm his “urgings”.

Mahdoth

Master—

Although you are quite right not to trust anything to the word of that fool – and I am loath to do the same – in this matter I have found his suspicions to be quite correct, and beyond my personal measure of examination.

Zairic

Zairic—

My findings regarding the Silverfind case are quite alarming. There appears to be a sympathetic resonance between Silverfind’s excitations and the similar excitation of Deregalis.

Relocate Silverfind immediately to the antimagic containment cells. Increase the levels of sedation for Deregalis and immediately institute identical regimes for Silverfind.

Mahdoth

As Elestra read the situation report, Tee continued rifling the desks. Jimmying the lock on one of the drawers, she found detailed financial records. She thumbed through them long enough to notice that they went back about seven years. The first five years were all recorded in a single hand, but that changed about two years earlier. Then the handwriting changed again roughly a week ago (most likely because Zairic had replaced Danneth).

In the other desk, Tee found a hidden compartment. And inside that compartment she found Zairic’s spellbook. She took it over to Ranthir, who had been pouting over losing the spell he’d attempted to cast on Tor. “Does that make everything better?” she asked.

“It does!” he said, immediately looking immensely chipper.

The files lining the walls proved to be patient records. Following the paper trail from the situational report they had found on the desk, they pulled the patient records for Tabaen, Rinner, and Deregalis…

PATIENT RECORD FOR TABAEN FARSONG

This slim file contains the patient record for an elf named Tabaen Farsong. Tabaen was admitted on 9/15/790 and his record has been flagged as being “part of the Oldtown Incident”.

His condition is listed as “excitation of latent sorcery with a divinatory flavoring”. He is described as “non-dangerous”, but his condition is resulting in “psychological harm”.

On 09/19/790 there is an additional note: “Entered a comatose state.”

There has been no improvement in his condition since that date.

PATIENT RECORD FOR RINNER SILVERFIND

This slim file contains the patient record for a dwarf named Rinner Silverfind. Rinner was admitted on 09/15/790 and his record has been flagged as being “part of the Oldtown Incident”.

His condition is listed as “dangerous, uncontrollable excitation of latent sorcery with full-blown manifestation of arcane summonry”.

“The patient reportedly summoned a non-sortable variety of creatures at increasing rates of acclimation, but upon placement in the suppressive fields of the asylum the manifestations were brought under control. Unfortunately, the psychological trauma of the event has left the patient near-raving at all times – reporting voices, conspirators, and demons to be ‘locked in his cell’ with him.”

PATIENT RECORD FOR DEREGALIS FINORIN

This thick file contains the patient record for a human wizard named Deregalis Finorin. The file dates back almost twenty years, with an admission date of 04/28/771.

According to the records, Finorin suffers from an acute madness leading to the “perpetual casting and manifestation of powerful spells of arcane summoning”. The creatures resulting were both powerful and dangerous. Apparently the public believed him to have been executed years ago, but he was instead confined to Mahdoth’s.

Unfortunately, the “suppressive fields” of Mahdoth gradually “lost their effectiveness against this tumorous eruption of primal sorcery”, in ways that the asylum’s experts could not explain. Even moving Deregalis into an antimagic field had little effect: He continued to summon monsters.

Deregalis is now kept heavily sedated in a near-comatose state in a Special Isolation Spell to keep his powers from continually manifesting.

… and reading those gave them great cause for concern.

“The suppressive fields of Mahdoth?” Tee quoted.

“Does that mean that the suppressive fields down here emanate from him?”

“It’s possible,” Ranthir said.

Beyond the immediate danger of lowering those suppressive fields by killing Mahdoth, it served as a greater reminder that they were planning to wipe out the supervisory staff of an asylum full of mad arcanists.

“Who’s going to take over keeping them in line?” Tee asked. “Us? I don’t want that responsibility.”

Amidst much consternation they decided to pull back out of the complex. Instead of a scorched earth approach, they would severely limit the scope of their operation and content themselves with capturing the shipment before it could reach Wuntad’s hands.

“And kill Wuntad,” Elestra said.

“I don’t think he’ll be here,” Tee said.

“When you’re in charge of all the chaos cultists in Ptolus,” Tor said, “I think you can afford a few minions to pick up your mail.”

“Yeah,” Elestra said. “But he might be.”

“And then we kill him.” Tee agreed.

They briefly discussed the possibility of cleaning up the salon on the upper level so that Mahdoth would have no idea what happened to Zairic. But Ranthir didn’t have the proper spells prepared to make a quick magical job of it, so they decided it would cost them too much time to try to get the bloodstains out of the floor… and chair… and… well, everywhere.

They retreated through the windows, closed them behind them, and moved to the end of the Childseye Street dead-end loop to discuss their new plan of attack.

Running the Campaign: Speak with Dead SFX – Campaign Journal: Session 47A
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

DISCUSSING
In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 46A: Among Madmen

At the last possible moment, Zairic twisted aside so that the arrow lodged in his shoulder instead of his heart. Letting his book drop to the floor, Zairic vaulted over the high arm of his chair and jumped for cover. In mid-leap, he released a fireball through the window. Tee ducked down as the fiery inciting pellet passed over her head and avoided the brunt of it almost completely, but Elestra (standing in the open further down the alley) was caught by the edge of it.

Most of the others – clumped together across the street and still debating how they could (or would or should) use Elestra’s homunculi – missed the flash of the fireball. Fortunately, Ranthir – who was providing the daisy-chained camouflage near the mouth of the alley – recognized it for what it was. “Fireball!” he shouted, hurrying into the alley.

The fiction-mechanics cycle is arguably the heart of the roleplaying game experience: The ways in which we use mechanics to create fictional outcomes; declare fictional actions that are resolved mechanically; and use the outcome of either to feed back into the other form an intricate and interwoven dance at the gaming table.

A key component of this dance is how mechanical outcomes are explained in the fiction. For simple, straightforward intentions with unambiguous results, this is often so obvious that one can easily miss that something is actually happening: The player said they wanted to jump over the chasm; the dice said they succeeded; therefore, they land on the other side of the chasm.

Intriguingly, therefore, it is often true the failure requires more of an explanation than success: Success, after all, merely assumes that the stated intention which triggered the mechanical resolution was achieved. Failure, on the other hand, almost seems to demand an explanation for why the character wasn’t able to achieve their desired outcome.

(And this is before we even start considering advanced techniques like failing forward.)

There are a number of techniques you can use in creating these explanations, and different RPG rulesets will often help you in different ways. A universal technique I find useful is explicitly thinking about different factors in the game world that could affect outcome. It’s really useful for keeping things fresh and varied.

(One key insight from this is that you can often make the description of success more interesting by lightly spicing it with the same details and factors that we use to explain failure.)

Something else to consider is the often unexamined assumption of who at the table is responsible for providing these explanations. In my experience, this almost always falls on the GM in their role as adjudicator and world-describer. Every so often, though, the infectious spirit of communal improv will unleash itself and people all around the table will start collaborating on the answer. And another key insight is that, as the GM, you can prompt the players to get involved in explaining outcomes.

(Matthew Mercer, for example, has made, “How do you want to do this?” particularly famous.)

In fact, you can go further than that and create specific expectations for action resolution in which describing the fictional implications of mechanical results defaults to the players. (Storytelling games often do this because their mechanics revolve around determining which player is in control of a narrative outcome.)

But I digress.

What I’m particularly interested in talking about right now is a very specific slice of these table interactions: The moment where a mechanical outcome prompts a conversation between characters, which I’m going to refer to as ex post facto roleplaying. Here the character dialogue is being triggered by or being described as the key factor in an action’s resolution.

In this session, for example, most of the PCs failed a Spot check to notice the flash from a fireball spell going off around a corner.

Why call for this check at all? I mean, it’s a fireball spell, right? Shouldn’t it be really obvious? Well, to some extent this depends on how much noise you think a fireball creates — is it a huge detonation or a more ephemeral flash of flame? More importantly, what I was primarily concerned about here was how quickly they would react to the fireball: Would they be able to leap into action and immediately join the fight? Or get caught flat-footed and have to wait a round before being able to rush to Tee’s aid?

In this case, the players asked the same question in a breakdown that looked something like this:

• Why wouldn’t we immediately notice the fireball?
• We must have been distracted.
• What could we have been distracted by?
• We must have all been continuing our debate about using the homunculi!

And then they briefly acted out a few lines of that dialogue, giving Ranthir’s player (who had succeeded on his Spot check) an opportunity to interrupt by them by shouting, “Fireball!”

This is a good example of these ex post facto roleplaying moments, which are often played as kind of funny throw-away moments. But they can, of course, also be more protracted and/or take on a more serious tone, particularly if you make a more conscious effort to notice, prompt, and/or define these moments.

In fact, rather than just reacting to skill checks with dialogue, you can also deliberately frame skill checks to set up roleplaying interactions. Using mechanics as a roleplaying prompt like this is described in more detail in Rulings in Practice: Social Skills.

Campaign Journal: Session 46B – Running the Campaign: Speak with Dead SFX
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

SESSION 46A: AMONG MADMEN

December 22nd, 2009
The 25th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

It was mid-afternoon when they left the Necropolis.

“Should we head back to the Ghostly Minstrel or go straight to Mahdoth’s?” Elestra asked.

“Ghostly Minstrel,” Ranthir said. “We need to clean up. Besides, we still have several hours. And the Minstrel is on the way in any case.”

Agnarr grunted. “You need to clean up?”

Ranthir rolled his eyes. “Yes. I seem to be covered in some sort of black ooze. I wonder where it came from? Oh, right! My eyes and my mouth!”

THE BIG PLAN

Once they reached the Ghostly Minstrel they spent a few minutes cleaning up and then gathered back up for a planning session.

Their biggest concern was Mahdoth himself. They knew he was connected with both Wuntad and the Pactlords, which made him an obvious threat. And Ranthir knew enough about beholders from his studies in Isiltur to make them all worried: Eyestalks causing paralysis, searing pain, and even death, combined with a massive antimagic field emanating from its central eye that could unknit their strongest offensive weapons.

They laid out extensive contingency plans for dealing with the various eyestalks – restorative magicks, scrolls to re-enervate their flesh, various potions and enchantments to boost their natural resistances against its powers, and much more of the like. It would be expensive, but it was obviously a necessary expense.

“The ultimate problem, though,” Tor said, “Is that all of these precautions are magical. As soon as he puts the big eye on us, it all becomes useless.”

“We do have some non-magical solutions,” Ranthir said, pulling out the alchemical potions of questionable provenance they’d recovered from Ghul’s Labyrinth. “Who wants to go blind?”

“Do we know if his eyestalks will work in his own antimagic field?” Nasira asked.

“I don’t know,” Ranthir confessed.

“Then we should assume they do.” Tee grimaced.

“It doesn’t seem fair,” Elestra said.

From memory they sketched out a small map of the areas they had seen last time they had been at Mahdoth’s. But the truth was they had no idea how extensive the asylum complex was or how deep it might go beneath the streets of Ptolus.

To supplement their limited knowledge they considered using clairvoyance spells again, but they were concerned that defensive measures at the asylum might be triggered by their use.

Elestra tried to figure out how they could use her homunculi’s ability to pass seamlessly through earth and stone to scout out the complex, but since it was incapable of communicating anything of detail back to her that seemed for naught. Nasira, on the other hand, mentioned the possibility of scrying, but the limitations of the techniques available to her made it seem of little use, as well, until Ranthir combined the two plans: By affixing the scrying sensor to Elestra’s homunculi, Nasira would be able to watch the homunculi’s progress.

INFILTRATION BY FIRE

Eventually, feeling as prepared as they could perhaps hope for, they headed for Mahdoth’s around 9 pm.

On the way, however, they had time for further debate: Did they want to wait for the shipment to arrive and then ambush it? Or should they assault the compound immediately so that they wouldn’t have to fight both the asylum personnel and whoever came for the shipment at the same time?

“I think it’s six of one or half a dozen of the other,” Elestra said.

“I’ll take the six to one,” Agnarr said. “I like those odds.”

They all stared at him for a long moment.

“What?”

They settled on the immediate attack, which naturally opened the question of what their specific approach should be. They considered drilling down from street level into the staircase they knew led to the lower level (and which passed beneath the street). They also reopened the practicality of sending Elestra’s homunculi to scout (and, if so, where and when and how he should carry out the scouting).

Keeping the homunculi as an option, Elestra wrapped them in the camouflage of the city’s spirit. Keeping this camouflage-connection through physical proximity, they strung themselves out in a daisy-chain to allow Tee to get close enough to the building to scout the perimeter.

Through the simple expedient of looking through the windows, Tee confirmed that the street-level portion of the asylum (like the tip of the iceberg above its lower levels) was largely abandoned: Only Zairic – the halfling who had ratted them out to Mahdoth when they had come here at Danneth’s invitation – was to be found there, reading a book in a salon-like area towards the rear of the building.

Zairic looked like an easy target. Tee eased open a window at the opposite end of the room, carefully lowered her longbow into place, and… FIRED!

At the last possible moment, Zairic twisted aside so that the arrow lodged in his shoulder instead of his heart. Letting his book drop to the floor, Zairic vaulted over the high arm of his chair and jumped for cover. In mid-leap, he released a fireball through the window. Tee ducked down as the fiery inciting pellet passed over her head and avoided the brunt of it almost completely, but Elestra (standing in the open further down the alley) was caught by the edge of it.

Most of the others – clumped together across the street and still debating how they could (or would or should) use Elestra’s homunculi – missed the flash of the fireball. Fortunately, Ranthir – who was providing the daisy-chained camouflage near the mouth of the alley – recognized it for what it was. “Fireball!” he shouted, hurrying into the alley.

Zairic called out from behind the chair. “Who are you? Do you know who you anger tonight?!”

Tee didn’t bother to answer him. She vaulted herself through the window and skipped across the room, loosing another arrow that thumped into the high back of the chair.

Zairic wrenched her first arrow out of his shoulder, gulped down a healing potion, and made a break for the door. Elestra, cursing the burns from the fireball, threw open another window to the room and fired her dragon rifle at him. The blast missed narrowly, scorching the wall.

Zairic, in mid-stride, ripped a scroll from an inside pocket of his cloak and gestured through the window towards Elestra. The others were just arriving at her side, and they were all caught in a pounding, painful hail of dagger-like ice that plunged down from the sky.

Tee, deciding to fight ice with fire, dipped her hand into her bag of flames and hurled a fire elemental at the Halfling. Distracted by the fiery sprite, Zairic made an easy target for her as she plunged her dagger into his shoulder and re-opened the magically healed wound from her arrow.

Zairic cursed loudly. Wrenching himself free from her blade he cast another spell, sending his body into a rapid, cascading shift between reality and the Ethereal Plane. “You’ll die tonight!”

“You’re the only one dying tonight!” Tee shouted. “We’re happy to speak with the dead!” Her expert eyes were tracking his skittering, shifting, flickering form.

“I’ll speak with your corp—“

The halfling gurgled and collapsed. Tee’s arcing blade had ripped through half his neck. As his body fell forward, his head fell back upon a flap of flesh and landed upright on his back.

“That’s disgusting,” Elestra said, climbing through the window.

Running the Campaign: Ex Post Facto Roleplaying – Campaign Journal: Session 46B
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

DISCUSSING
In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 45C: Long Reign of the Sun

Ranthir was examining the magical guards laid upon the plug. Eventually he concluded that their initial suspicions had been correct: Only at night could the plug be opened. The spell was ancient, but still potent – only a powerful wish would remove the plug.

“So when we get the wish spell from Rehobath do we use it on the sealed door at the Banewarrens?” Elestra asked. “Or do we use it here?”

“I think we need to use it at the Banewarrens,” Tor said. “We know how to get through this plug. We just have to wait for dark. But there may not be any other way through the sealed door.”

“Except the key,” Tee said.

“A key that may not exist any more. Or that we may never find.”

They debated staying until nightfall and then going into the tomb. But there was trepidation about staying in the Necropolis after dark without proper preparations.

And then Tee realized that they couldn’t stay: The note they had discovered in the Temple of the Rat God describing some sort of shipment at Mahdoth’s Asylum was dated for midnight. They couldn’t afford to be trapped inside the Necropolis while that kind of known activity was happening.

A dynamic I’ve found it can be difficult to understand if you’re only familiar with linear forms of play is the mixture of pressure and opportunity created when the PCs are pursuing multiple agendas.

At the beginning of this session, for example, the PCs had just barely managed to escape from overwhelming opposition at Porphyry House. In a linear campaign or scenario, they would’ve needed to immediately turn around and attack Porphyry House again. If they were clever, they might find some new way of tackling the problem, but ultimately this would be the one and only thing available for them to do.

In this case, however, the PCs have a bunch of irons in the fire. To mix idioms a bit, they’re free to let Porphyry House simmer for a bit while they pull a different iron out of the fire. It’s a powerful dynamic because it prevents the campaign from slamming to a halt when it meets an unexpected roadblock. By exploring other options, maybe the PCs can find resources or opportunities that can remove the roadblock. Combined with something like node-based scenario design or xandered dungeons, the PCs might find some way of routing around the roadblock. When you’re playing in a system like D&D where the PCs can become much more powerful, they may just level up to a point where the roadblock ceases to be an impediment.

On the other hand, at the end of this session, the PCs are forced to put a pin in their plans to explore Alchestrin’s Tomb because they have other agendas that are demanding their attention. They need to prioritize their goals and figure out the most efficient way they can be pursued with the time and resources that they have.

Linear adventures and single-threaded campaigns, of course, can be designed to include some form of time pressure. (“You have to rescue the princess before the blood moon rises!”) What’s most notable about the multi-threaded campaign, though, is that the GM doesn’t actually have to plan this stuff. At no point in my prep, for example, did I ever say, “Ah! I’ll schedule the shipment to Mahdoth’s Asylum so that it arrives at the same time they’re checking out Alcehstrin’s Tomb!”

Because, among other reasons, I had no idea when the PCs might actually go and check out Alchestrin’s Tomb. There’s another version of reality where their assault on Porphyry House didn’t turn into a clusterfuck. In that other world, the PCs might have spent the whole afternoon burning through resources while clearing out the whorehouse, only to reach the evening and realize that they would need to deal with whatever was happening at Mahdoth’s while being severely depleted by the day’s events. Or maybe they’d realize they couldn’t shoot both barrels into Porphyry House and instead pull out early (puns intended) to conserve their resources for Mahdoth’s. Either way, those are also compelling strategic choices and consequences!

So if I’m not planning specific pressure points or forcing specific choices, what am I doing to make this happen?

1. Any time there’s an upcoming event in the campaign, whether the PCs know about it or not, I make sure to assign it a specific date and time.
2. I keep track of the passage of time.

That’s it.

When scheduling events, I notably don’t really think about how they interact with unrelated events in the campaign. I don’t need to. The various scheduled events and the actions of the PCs will naturally combine and interact with each other during play, and pressure will simply emerge organically from the mix.

This principle is a good example of how, in my experience, loosening your grip on the campaign, empowering the PCs, and actively playing the game world is actually a lot easier for the GM than trying to force a single-threaded chain of events. Partly because you don’t need to force it. Mostly because you’re no longer solely responsible for everything that happens.

The other effect of multi-threading like this, of course, is that stuff will tend to hang around. The PCs first learned of Alchestrin’s Tomb in Session 35. They tried to visit in Session 36, but got waylaid by a false crypt. Then they got waylaid by other pressing concerns for several days, only returning here in Session 45. And it won’t be until Session 48 that they can come back and actually get inside for the first time.

Can this be frustrating? Yes. But it’s a good frustration. It’s the frustration of solving a puzzle or plotting out the perfect turn in a board game. And, of course, it’s not like nothing was happening during those other sessions! During that time, the players were pursuing and achieving other goals that were important to them.

But even as they’re doing those other things, the sense of anticipation is building. Content isn’t being chewed up as soon as it’s introduced. It naturally endures, weaving its way into a more complicated narrative. It was a full year of time in the real world from when they heard about Alchestrin’s Tomb to when they actually entered into the tomb. Which meant that entering the tomb felt momentous.

Which, in turn means, that the feeling of reward when these long-lasting goals come to fruition is also greater.

This dynamic also has an interesting effect on things like the Principles of RPG Villainy. Extending the players’ relationships with villains over time just naturally gets them more deeply invested in that antagonism. The agenda pressure that naturally emerges from multi-threaded campaigns also means that truly memorable villains also just kind of naturally develop themselves. (As do relationships with faction, NPCs, and other facets of the campaign.)

Campaign Journal: Session 46A – Running the Campaign: Ex Post Facto Roleplaying
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index