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Thursday, February 6, 2020

Building tension in your game, part 5


It was a long and winding road that took us from the objective of these articles to where we are now, but the drilling-down process is now done.  We have identified all of the time elements in a location based exploration, and can now apply them to our Mummy’s Mask example (discussed in part 3 of this series).  To review, we have identified:


  • ·        Time needed to travel to and from the location.

  • ·        Any time element specified in the published adventure

  • ·        Time spent moving from room to room in the location.

  • ·        Time required to complete combat encounters, traps or hazards.

  • ·        Time required to search rooms, either with a cursory or thorough search.

All that remains now is to estimate the total amount of time the characters spend in a location before resting, measure that against the percentage chance of a random encounter as stated in the Adventure Path and decide if the risk potential drives the characters to make meaningful choices.  Let’s do some math! 


1. Time needed to travel to and from the location: 22 minutes
2. Any time element specified in the published adventure: 1 hour
3. Time spent moving from room to room in the location: 1 minute
4.      Time required for combats, traps and hazards: 5 minutes
5.      Time required to search rooms with thorough search: 15.5 minutes


Total time spent on location-based exploration = 1 hour, 43.5 minutes.

As a reminder, the random encounter chart at the back of The Half-Dead City says that there is a 35% chance per hour that the characters encounter a wandering monster.  Using the times determined above, this means that there is only one chance of a random encounter during their outing, and the chance of that happening is only about 1 in 3.  Even if the characters decided to do cursory searches in the entire location instead of thorough searches, it would only reduce the time spent to 1 hour and 28 minutes, so the chance of a random encounter remains the same.  In this setup, the characters have no meaningful way to change their chances of a random encounter.  There is no tension, nor is there any way to change the chances through player action.  This will not work for our purposes.

If we accept the premise that the party will face 5 APL-equivalent encounters before they need to rest (as with the Mummy’s Mask example), then we can infer that each location-based excursion will consume between one and two hours.  If the unit of measurement for random encounters is per hour, the chance of a random encounter is pretty small.  In order to ratchet up the tension, we will see if the tension pool (discussed in part 2 of this series) can make this more interesting and dramatic.  Since using hours as a time frame doesn’t get us where we want to go, let’s reduce our unit of measurement to 10-minute intervals.  Now, we add a d6 to the tension pool after every ten minutes.  When the pool contains 6d6, we empty the pool and roll the dice.  A result of a 1 means we get a complication.
At first glance, this looks no different than the original system.  We still get only one chance for a complication, rolled at the 1-hour mark.  By rolling 6d6 and looking for at least one 1, we’ve increased the probability of a complication from 35% to 66.5%, almost doubling the chance.  This gets us part of the way to our goal.  By doubling the chances of a complication, we changed the probability from unlikely to likely.  This is an important change because the players will begin to expect a complication instead of considering it an unlikely possibility.  Their choices may change with this change in expectation. Time adds pressure.

But there are additional differences that will add tension: Each time that the characters do something that takes a long time to accomplish, like search a huge or larger room or cavern, read a journal, decipher foreign writings or have a lengthy debate, add a d6 to the tension pool.  If the pool has 6d6 in it, roll the pool immediately.  This allows us to add a consequence for lengthy activities and forces the characters to weigh the benefits of the activity against the increased chance of a complication.  Risk versus reward.  I sense a theme here…

Furthermore, if the party engages in any reckless or noisy activity, such as breaking down a door, smashing a chest, setting something on fire, triggering a trap, having a loud conversation or argument, triggering a rockfall, etc., roll the tension pool immediately, regardless of how many d6’s it contains.  A result of 1 on any die indicates a complication.  Then add 1d6 to the pool.  The group of players should start noticing how many dice are in the tension pool before being reckless or noisy; the more numerous the dice, the greater the chance of a complication.

All that remains is to discuss the nature of complications.  Let’s recall that complications should always be bad, never good.  Naturally, a random encounter with a wandering monster is a great candidate for a complication.  We can use the random encounter tables provided in the adventure, or we can craft our own; regardless, random encounters should take up the bulk of possible complications.  We can brainstorm for different types of complications but we need to consider the details of the location to make them sensible.  For example, characters exploring a tomb in Mummy’s Mask would be unlikely to encounter a volcanic eruption or a flood.  A collapsing corridor could be a possibility, as could a build-up of toxic gases.  Opponents in the next encounter could overhear the PCs, and lay an ambush for them.  Whatever you can dream up, be sure that it is appropriate for the location, and always bad for the characters.  If you wanted to raise the stakes, you could use the number of 1’s rolled as a scaling severity mechanic.  Two 1’s is worse than one 1, three worse than two, etc.  Increase the CR of the random encounter by a corresponding amount, or the DCs for saving throws or ability/skill checks. 

I guess I’ve explored (ha, get it?) this topic long enough.  Next time, we’ll take a look at wilderness exploration, how this mode of play changes the measurement of time, and how we can make it interesting, dramatic and meaningful.

Building tension in your game, part 4


Introductory note: This post was originally uploaded about three weeks ago.  I just noticed that the formatting on the web page was all screwed up, so I deleted the post, and reformatted it today.  Just in case you thought that you read this already.  You probably did.

I apologize.  I seem to have fallen down a rabbit hole.  This series of articles is supposed to be talking about how to add tension to your d20 game.  I intended to start from the micro and build outward to the macro, but somehow I ended up doing the opposite.  The following article should probably have been my first in the series.  But it’s part 4, so we’ll just have to deal with it.  Again, my apologies. I’m new at this blogging thing, and planning articles now is on my radar for “important things to consider when writing a blog.”

The dreaded skill gangbang
GM’s, how many times in your games does this happen?

GM: “You’ve defeated the grumkins, what do you do next?”
Player 1: “I search the room for hidden treasure.”
GM: “Please give me a Perception check.”
Player 1: “I get a 16”
Player 2: “I get a 12”
Player 3: “I get a 7”
Player 4: “I get a 19”
Player 5: “I get a 22.”
GM: “Okay, Player 5 beats the DC of 20, and finds the hidden stash.”

The first thing to notice is that the GM asked Player 1 for a Perception check, but every player at the table jumped in and provided the results of their check as well.  As a GM, I don’t want to deny players the chance to use their character’s skills, so I shrug and give the characters the loot they earned. 

The second thing to notice is that the risk involved is fairly small.  I don’t want to get all mathy in this post, so let’s just say that the probability of at least one character getting 20 or higher is more than 80%.  Lots of variables affect this, but it’s a pretty good number to base the rest of our discussion upon.  Deciding to have each character search the room is a solid bet.  Most of the time, it will result in success.  The chances of failure, therefore, are less than 20%.  What game-player wouldn’t take those odds?

Here’s the thing: If the results of a roll are a nigh-foregone conclusion, why are we rolling?  As long as at least one character says they’re searching the room, just assume that everyone else helps out, and the loot gets found.  Why roll if the outcome is predetermined?  Why not just give ‘em the treasure and move on?

Here’s why: By allowing every character to make Perception checks, we remove any risk from the decision, rendering it meaningless.  And that’s boring.  There’s very little risk to this tactic, and no risk means no tension, which means no drama.  No drama equals boring story.  And who wants to listen to (no less play in) a boring story?  Not I, rabbi!

We can fix the Perception issue with the resource of time. 

Changing our perception of Perception
The Pathfinder RPG Core Rulebook states that a Perception check, “when intentionally searching for stimulus is a move action.”  So, to search a 10’ x 10’ room takes a move action.  Searching a 200’ x 150’ cavern takes, umm, a move action?  WTF?  Nowhere in the 1st edition Core Rulebook does it state how much area can be searched during a measured unit of time.  And that sucks, because this means that anyone can search any size area with nary a glance, and anyone and everyone can make Perception checks.  There’s no cost of time, and therefore no risk.  We gotta change that if we want risk and reward to be considered.

Looking at some later iterations of D20 systems does provide a little insight.  Dungeons & Dragons 4th Edition has this to say about searching using the Perception Skill “Searching: When actively searching an area or looking for something specific, assume you’re searching each adjacent square. The DM might allow you to do this as a standard action, but usually searching requires at least 1 minute. So, “each adjacent square” is either 8 or 9 five ft. squares, depending on if you count the square your character currently stands in.  And searching these 8 or 9 squares requires a minimum 1 minute of searching.

Moving to 5th Edition D&D, there isn’t anything that specifically governs how much area can be searched in how much time, but this clue is offered: “Finding a hidden object: In most cases, you need to describe where you are looking in order for the DM to determine your chance of success. For example, a key is hidden beneath a set of folded clothes in the top drawer of a bureau. If you tell the DM that you pace around the room, looking at the walls and furniture for clues, you have no chance of finding the key, regardless of your Wisdom (Perception) check result. You would have to specify that you were opening the drawers or searching the bureau in order to have any chance of success.”  While we aren’t given any specific measurement, we do know that an area about the size of a bureau is an example of an area.  That helps a little, but requires interpretation, which can differ from GM to player.

Pathfinder 2nd Edition replaces the Perception skill with the Seek action, and describes the action as follows: “If you’re using Seek to search for objects (including secret doors and hazards), you search up to a 10-foot square adjacent to you. The GM might determine you need to Seek as an activity, taking more actions or even minutes or hours if you’re searching a particularly cluttered area.”  A 10-foot square is 4 squares, and as far as I can tell, this is defined as a Basic action, and therefore consumes 1 of your 3 actions in the standard game economy.  If the GM decides, it could be classified as an Activity, taking 2 or 3 actions, or even more if searching a cluttered area.  In a single round, you can potentially search 4, 8 or 12 squares.  Not super helpful, but at least gives us a range to work with.

The times they are a’changin’
In a previous post, I calculated that it would take about two and a half minutes to search a 50 ft. by 50 ft. room.  But my previous calculation of the area to be searched only accounted for the square footage of the floor.  For a thorough search, the characters would probably also search the walls.  If the height of the room is 10 ft., this would add another 200 square feet of area to search.  Again, assuming that it takes one character six seconds to search a 5-ft. square, the floor and walls could be searched in four and a half minutes if all characters searched concurrently.  Add another two minutes if the ceiling is to be included in the search.

So what?  We searched, we found, we moved on.  Vidimus, invenimus, exivimus.  What is missing from this equation is the cost of the time spent performing the search.  If the entire group makes perception rolls, that means that everyone’s attention is focused on the search, and not on anything else.  No one is standing guard.  No one is listening for wandering monsters.  And with good reason!  Wandering monsters are stupid, right?  We all agree on that, right?

Maybe the designers of the game had a reason for including wandering monsters since the first incarnation of fantasy roleplaying games.  For every X units of time, there exists the chance to encounter a wandering monster.  That entire game element becomes irrelevant if the time spent performing any activity is ignored.  Time spent performing activities such as searching for treasure becomes the risk involved in the decision.  In order for the decision to be meaningful, each time a group commits to searching a room, there should be a significant increase in the chances of a random encounter. 

How can we codify this in a simple but impactful set of rules?  One approach would be to take a measurement of how much time it costs to search a room, based on its approximate surface area (but excluding the ceiling).
Size of room
Equivalent number of 5’ x 5’ squares
Time required (rounds)
Time required (minutes)
10’ x 10’
12
12
1.2
15’ x 10’
16
16
1.6
15’ x 15’
21
21
2.1
20’ x 20’
32
32
3.2
30’ x 30’
60
60
6
50’ x 50’
140
140
14
100’ x 100’
480
480
48

A group of 6 characters searching a 100’ x 100’ room would need 8 minutes (48/6) to complete a thorough search.  This would enable each of the characters to make a Perception check against the stated DC, and will probably result in a roughly 80% chance of success. For me, that solution would be fine.  I would studiously measure each room, and make a note of how long it would take 1 character to thoroughly search it.  But I like complexity.  Not everyone does.  How about we try to make this a little simpler, hmm?

First, we should clarify some definitions.  Most hidden things have a listed Perception DC to find them.  This DC requires a thorough search.  Going with a conservative choice, a character can thoroughly search a 10 ft. x 10 ft. area in a round (this seems to be the Pathfinder 2 default).  It seems reasonable to me, but let me know if you disagree.

Next, we should identify a different kind of search, one that aligns with PF1.  I dub this the cursory search.  A cursory search takes a single round to perform, but increases the DC of the Perception check based on how large the room is.  We could use the size categories from Pathfinder to classify various room size ranges.  Try this out for a first pass:

Dimensions 
Room size 
Cursory search DC modifier 
Time required in rounds for 1 character
5 x 5 
Tiny
+0
1
Up to 10 x 10 
Small
+5
5
Up to 20 x 20 
Medium
+10
10
Up to 50 x 50 
Large
+15
20
Up to 100 x 100 
Huge
+20
100
Up to 200 x 200 
Gargantuan
+25
300
>200 x 200 
Colossal
+30 or more
600 or more

The GM can be as accurate or as approximate as they wish.  You can measure the square footage of every room in your dungeon, and note the equivalent room sizes, or you can just eyeball it and say “that looks like a Large room.”  I put a spreadsheet together that has more detail on how I arrived at the numbers above, but I’ll put that in the footnotes so I don’t bore everyone to tears.

An example from our hypothetical group that just killed ogres, and wants to search the room for hidden treasure: the group consists of 4 characters, and the ogre’s lair is 200 x 150 feet.  Using the chart above, we can reasonably conclude that this room is a Gargantuan room.  The group can choose to make a cursory search, but doing so increases the Perception DC of any hidden objects by 25!  They’re not likely to find anything that way!

If they choose to make a thorough search of the lair, it will take one character 300 rounds (30 minutes) to complete.  The group could decide to have three characters search while one stands guard at the entrance to the lair, reducing the time required to only 10 minutes.

If only one character is searching the lair, that player rolls their Perception check against the stated DC.  However, it becomes a little more complicated if two or more characters are splitting up the search area.  It becomes important to know where each character is searching.  If there is hidden loot, or a secret door or a trap, only the character that is searching the square where it is located makes a Perception roll that matters.  Sure, everyone else gets to make Perception rolls as well, but if they’re searching an area that contains no hidden treasure or hazards, the results of their rolls don’t matter.  The only Perception roll that matters is the one made by the character who is searching the area where the hidden thingy is.

Why does this matter?
Adding these layers of complexity may seem like a lot of extra work for little payoff, but give some thought to the choices that they create for the characters:
·        Make a cursory search of the room to save time, or a thorough search to allow best chance to find hidden stuff.
·        Allow your best searcher to thoroughly search the entire room by themselves, or split it up to save time.
Each of these decisions involve risk (increased chance of random encounter, miss out on hidden loot) and reward (avoid random encounter, find the hidden stuff).  What this also does is fill in the last blank to determine how much time is spent in an encounter area.  At the very least, it gives us a way to approximate it.  

Next time, we’ll add up all of the times we’ve identified, reference the random encounter percentage and see if it provides an adequate risk (spoiler alert: it doesn’t).

Footnote: The full spreadsheet was too big to fit in the blog without messing up the formatting.  If you REALLY want to see it, leave a comment.