The first thing to say about Big Hero 6 is that it’s a ton of fun wrapped in a beautiful aesthetic surrounding well-earned emotional heartaches and catharsis. If you’re the type of geek who’s likely to be reading this website, then you’re probably going to adore this film.

With that being said, I was interested in the way that Big Hero 6 failed to be an ensemble movie: It comes very, very close (featuring a diversity of interesting characters in supporting roles), but ultimately misses the opportunity. (And that’s not necessarily a bad thing for the film, which instead succeeds very well at being a film about its protagonist.)

I found myself making an easy comparison to The Incredibles, which is in many ways a completely different movie but which also features the formation of a team of superheroes. But whereas Big Hero 6 just misses being an ensemble piece, The Incredibles is a very successful ensemble piece.

The key distinction here is that all four main characters in The Incredibles are fully developed while each possessing a full narrative arc (which is also connected to the overall narrative arc of the ensemble). This is contrasted to Big Hero 6 where all five members of the team are given unique personalities and great dialogue… but notably lack fully developed arcs.

The reason I bring this up is that I noticed that a key difference between the films is that The Incredibles featured multiple sequences in which the main characters are separated from each other, whereas Big Hero 6 basically did not.

So what I’m saying here is:

SPLIT THE PARTY.

Because it’s a really effective way to allow individual characters to develop identities separate from the group identity. (Which will, ironically, enrich the group identity.)

(More on splitting the party over here.)

The problem with GURPS-style advantage/disadvantage character creation systems is that the actual impact of a given advantage or disadvantage is highly dependent on the circumstances of actual play: “Immune to psionic attacks” is totally amazing if your campaign is The War Against the Illithids; it’s completely wasted if your character never encounters a psion. Similarly, “Horrifically Claustrophobic” is a crippling disadvantage in a megadungeon campaign; it’s basically a non-factor if you’re playing Lawrence of Arabia.

So in order for these systems to work, the advantages and disadvantages need to be made equally relevant in actual play.

IME, however, there are two typical actual play dynamics in RPGs:

First, the players are given a free rein. Players will naturally seek to play to their advantages and play away from their disadvantages. This isn’t even really abusive play: It’s just a logical way of interacting with the world. (If I had no legs, I wouldn’t spend a lot of time buying ladders.)

Second, the GM is railroading the players. You might initially expect this to reverse the dynamic, but it typically doesn’t because (again, IME) most railroading GMs are more focused on achieving a predetermined goal: Their focus is an internal one. It might inadvertently force players into confronting their disadvantages, but often will not. (While the players will still be able to tactically exploit their advantages.)

In order for an advantage/disadvantage system to really work, IMO, you need a GM who’s willing to advocate as strongly for the inclusion of a PC’s disadvantage as the player is to advocate for the inclusion of the PC’s advantage.

The GMs most willing to do this are (in terms of the Threefold) dramatists and gamists. Simulationists are much less likely to put their thumb on the scale and “force” the inclusion of disadvantages.

This becomes a particular problem for GURPS because most the features in that system are heavily focused on supporting simulationists: So the people most likely to be running GURPS are the ones least likely to adopt the GMing techniques necessary to keep the advantage/disadvantage system balanced.

My general approach to handling “canon” when it comes to using fictional settings in an RPG generally follows the “World War II Doctrine”: Gaming in an established, fictional setting is no different than playing a game that’s set during World War II.

With that being said, there’s a broad spectrum of ways in which you can set a game in World War II at the gaming table:

A) The events of World War II as they happened historically can’t be changed, but primarily exist as a backdrop. You’ll hear about the events of the war, but you’ll never actually meet Hitler or change the outcome of the Battle of Midway.

B) You can meet Hitler, but you can’t shoot him. If you do shoot him, it will turn out you shot a double and history continues along unperturbed.

C) You can totally shoot Hitler.

There’s also the semi-tangential issue of the Alternative History Remix: This is the one where you decide that in your version of World War II, Germany is led by a guy name Hans Strauber and they’re fighting the White Alliance of Brittania and Charlegmania. (Or whatever.)

There’s also a second, rarer spectrum in which the PCs are actually canonical characters. Let’s call it the “Dragonlance Spectrum”:

A) You are playing the members of Hitler’s cabinet, but you’ll create an original character (replacing their historical analogs).

B) You are playing the actual, historical members of Hitler’s cabinet, but you’re free to take whatever actions you want (even if those contradict the historical reality of what the cabinet did).

C) You are playing the actual, historical members of Hitler’s cabinet and you’re going to be railroaded into experiencing World War II exactly the way that they did.

(Actually, this one is probably a little less of a clear spectrum. You could theoretically play non-canonical characters who are nonetheless being railroaded through the same events.)

Hack & Slash posted On the Visual History of the Illithid the other day and pointed out that, in the original Monster Manual, the portrait of the mind flayer was surrounded by an irregular octagon that was completely unique within that tome:

“Although several creatures in the monster manual have borders, most are square. Only two other creatures, the Bugbear and Type V demons have octagonal borders and both of their borders are more regular. Each pane of the mind flayer border is of a different length, no two matching.” Which feels oddly appropriate, given the dimension-rending origins of the mind flayer in many versions of their mythos.

I was struck by the idea that you might be able to take that octagonal border and turn it into an iconic symbol or badge. An Icon of the Flayer. A couple dozen minutes of fiddling around in Photoshop gave me this:

After the review I wrote, several people have asked me whether I’ll be doing a remix of Hoard of the Dragon Queen to “fix” it the same way that I did for Keep on the Shadowfell.

Short answer: Nope.

Why? Because nothing about Hoard of the Dragon Queen made me want to run it. Which means I’m not going to run it. Which means that I’m not going to put the necessary effort into revamping it.

With that being said, while discussing the campaign over the past few days I have had a few thoughts about the approach I would take to remixing the campaign if I were going to do it.

NODE-BASED DESIGN

As I mentioned in my original review, the basic back story of Hoard of the Dragon Queen kinda screams out for a node-based design: Multiple factions of a cult simultaneously pursuing multiple artifacts should lend itself pretty much instantly to the PCs being able to choose which threats they want to prioritize.

One thing to consider, however,  is that D&D characters increase in power level over time, so you can’t just have a wide open playing field without risking either crippling difficulty at the beginning of the campaign and/or push-overs at the end of the campaign. With that being said, my understanding of 5E is that the “bounded accuracy” design is specifically meant to increase the range of tolerance for this sort of thing and pre-4E had at least a 3-4 level range of tolerance.

So what you need to do is design around funnels that refocus the investigation. (Or, alternatively, layer cakes while accepting that occasionally the PCs will backtrack and roll over some easier material.)

Having a bulkier initiating node that the PCs can gain a couple of levels during also makes sense (to take the edge of fragility off their characters). So it makes sense to keep the general idea of “siege on Greenest, followed by investigations at the cult camp.” In the camp you’d want to seed clues to three different nodes:

• Leads to wherever they’re transporting the stuff.
• An envoy from another faction of the cult.
• Reports from agents who are currently spying on a third faction of the cult (that somehow threatens this faction’s interests).

This 1st Funnel is primarily focused on figuring out what the cult’s true agenda is. The second prong of clues within the scenarios of this funnel, therefore, would show their fascination with Tiamat, hint that they’re looking for Tiamat-themed artifacts, and also reveal the “five-headed” structure of the cult. The first prong is the structural branch in which clues point them to the conclusion of the 1st Funnel: An “all-faction” meeting of the cult. At this meeting, the PCs would discover (or verify) that the cult is specifically interested in the five dragon masks. Furthermore, they would get clues pointing them towards 2-4 more dragon masks. These might include:

• Ongoing expeditions being run by the cult.
• Expeditions that are about to begin. (Do the PCs sabotage the mission? Race to meet them to the site?)
• Fortresses where the cult is keeping masks they have already obtained.

And so forth. This 2nd Funnel would lead them to Tiamat’s Prison where the final ritual is being performed (or whatever). If I was invested in the idea of the cult getting all five masks and raising Tiamat, I’d probably arrange things so that the masks have already been shipping to the final site before the PCs ever arrive at the various expedition locations. Given my predilections, however, what I’d probably do is design the ritual in a way that the PCs holding a single mask won’t completely disrupt it. Maybe something like:

• Each mask allows the cult to summon one Aspect of Tiamat (i.e., a deity-infused dragon of matching color). Or maybe the ritual just involves an appropriate dragon wearing the mask and, thus, channeling a shard of Tiamat’s soul. Either way, the point is that if the PCs manage to hold onto one or more of the masks… great! They have substantially reduced (but not eliminated) the effectiveness of the plans and Tiamat’s manifestation on this plane.
• Also designing 2-3 proactive nodes of assassins or thieves or the like that the cult would send after the PCs in order to retrieve the masks they’ve “stolen”.

USING THE RAW MATERIAL

If I’m looking to preserve as much of Hoard of the Dragon Queen as possible, I’d probably look at something like this:

Node 1: This consists of Episodes 1-3 from the book.

1st Funnel:

• For tracking the looted goods, I’d use a possibly abbreviated version of Episodes 4-5 but have it conclude at the Roadhouse. (With records there pointing to the conclusion.)
• The envoy would be from the Hunting Lodge (Episode 7, with the same relationship to the Castle in the Clouds for the conclusion).
• The agents would be spying upon Castle Naerytar. (Preparations are being made to send their delegation to the conclusion.)

The conclusion of the 1st Funnel would be a meeting at the Castle in the Clouds (Episode 8).

Remember to include cross-node clues: So, for example, the Hunting Lodge is also shipping goods to the Roadhouse (providing a place where you might be able to use additional material from Episodes 4-5) and has a spy from Castle Naerytar. And so forth.

The 2nd Funnel would be a hypothetical remix of the material from Rise of Tiamat (if it proves to have anything usable upon release).

THE FIRST EPISODE

 The other thing you have to do if you’re going to run Hoard of the Dragon Queen is fix the opening scenario.

First, the hook of “you have some vague reason to be in Greenest, but when you get there you find that the town is being attacked by a dragon” is far too fragile. One option would be to drastically ramp up the importance of whatever they need to accomplish in Greenest, while also making it massively time-sensitive and also being of a nature that a dragon besieging the town doesn’t render it moot.

Nothing comes to mind that fits the bill, though, so I’m going to recommend an easier fix: The PCs are already in Greenest when the cult attacks.

The far more problematic aspect of the first episode, however, is the lengthy section with the World of Warcraft quest-giver standing atop his castle walls and ordering the PCs to venture forth over and over and over again. I suspect you could probably salvage this section of the adventure by having the players receive a complete tactical overview of the situation in town and then venturing forth once to accomplish their missions all at once. That would look something like this:

• Dragon Attack (the dragon assaults the wall shortly after the PCs arrive in the castle)
• Old Tunnel (after the PCs prove themselves against the dragon, Escobert immediately tells them about it)
• Sallying Forth (Save the Mill, Sanctuary, and Prisoners)
• Sally Port (as they return to the keep, the sally port buckles and they have to help drive the raiding parties back out)

They can then question the prisoner with Escobert and you can cut that interrogation short whenever it becomes boring by having the half-dragon champion issue his challenge.

BRINGING THE AWESOME

Pearce Shea summarizes the big problem with Hoard of the Dragon Queen eloquently at games with others:

What we learn about kobolds [in Hoard]: They are small and they like dragons. They comport themselves menacingly.

When Paizo released Rise of the Runelords they reimagined goblins with Wayne Reynolds, and Goblins lit themselves on fire by mistake, drowned in half-full barrels, feared and hated horses (horses are kind of like their dragons) and one eats a man’s face off (is eating it, through a hole in the wall, when you find it). They roast limbs for fun, carry molten tongs and try to shove adventurers into a furnace. There are optional feral goblin babies to kill (or to try to raise). They have a song (it is lame), and a druid that moves through their bramble walls as if the brambles were no obstacle at all, and a chief that rides a giant gecko. There will be a man encased in glass, an aasimar becoming a demon, a barghest, seduction, romance, betrayal, two patricides, a boat hunt, family squabbles, rangers giving reports about goblin activity, flirting, grave robbing, lost mega weapon-type defense systems, ancient temples and fonts of evil power, demons, a mutant goblin and an imp that imagines itself queen. That’s in 60 pages or so (the first of six chapters). Half the length of Hoard of the Dragon Queen. fuck.

So the biggest thing you’d have to do during a revamp of Hoard of the Dragon Queen is liberally inject the scenario with awesome stuff: The cult needs weird rituals. Strange Tiamat lore needs to be scrawled in living inks. Feel free to take advantage of the bassabal culture I created for kobolds in my Shadowfell remix. Yank open your fantasy spice rack and start using it liberally.

On that note: Check out the remix Hack & Slash is embarking upon.