Hello! Do You Have Any Advice For Scaling Enemies? Im Trying To Create A Somewhat Epic Campaign For My

Hello! Do you have any advice for scaling enemies? I’m trying to create a somewhat epic campaign for my players to draw them into the game, but don’t want them to get squished, y’know? Thanks! =]

Alright, this one has been sitting in my inbox for WEEKS and I forgot about it.

You have my sincerest apologies. 

Shame upon me. Bad blog. Baaaad.

Now, the likelihood is that you are playing some variation of D&D, which is good. It gives me some groundwork to build off of with my attempts at advice.

The bad thing going for you is that, if you believe the books, D&D difficulty is entirely mathematical.

The good thing going for you is that this is almost entirely wrong.

There are three pillars of combat that will affect difficulty in a combat encounter and none of them are percentile adjustments or mathematical algorithms. 

These are: Damage, Duration, and Disruption 

(watch this video, it is great and will explain things rather well.)

Damage is raw HP reduction and threat. High damage is near insta-lethal one-hits, whereas low is not much, maybe even none at all.

Duration is not how long a fight takes, but how much you control how long it takes. High duration is an explicit control over when an encounter can end, such as an enemy being invincible until an enchantment is dispelled, whereas low is just letting things happen as they do without any control, such as letting a boss get one-shotted by a lucky crit.

Disruption is how difficult it is to achieve success. High disruption could be magical storms blinding everyone unless they make a high saving throw, whereas low Disruption is a breezeless football field in the middle of Idaho on a Wednesday afternoon in August.

If you want to make an encounter with lower-level monsters more dangerous, then experiment with increasing any of these three things, even all three.

eg;

Three goblins and a hobgoblin are not much of a threat to a higher level party. Perhaps more of an annoyance, like mosquitoes or party balloons - swat ‘em or kick ‘em and, nine times out of ten, they’ll go away.

However, let’s go through each pillar and crank things up a notch.

Damage: Imagine if the goblins had gotten their hands on some powerful, uncontrollable wands and were torching a village with them. Fireballs, Lightning Bolts, Acid Arrows - the party may want to treat these pests with some respect and approach a little smarter.

Duration: Could it be that the goblins are life-linked in some absurd, shamanistic ritual to the hobgoblin, meaning that he can only be wounded once all of the goblins are dead?

Disruption: Perhaps the goblins have released a poisonous gas through the area that can paralyze everyone except goblinoids? Players have to skirt about these small clouds of paralysis that float about the battlefield, and if anyone gets caught in them, the goblins all pounce at once and go for the kill.

I’d recommend experimenting with ideas, and you can easily get weaker monsters up to higher-play level of difficulty. Just be wary of making things too tough. Also, it never hurts to give a boss-monster a decent amount of HP aswell as a little higher AC and some attack bonuses if you want them to fare a little better.

Remember though, the objective is to make your players think, because then they are acting, and then they are playing and are having fun. That is the one, true objective for being a DM.

Enjoy

Pixie x

Just an update; the record with Tango is 11 natural 1′s in a single session, with 3 of them happening in a row.

Just so People Know ...

I do have a special d20 that I exclusively use for bosses in D&D. It is a transparent and orange one with white lettering and I call him Tango and I love him.

…

He may or may not have single-handedly killed at least three of my major villains through critical failures, however.

I have a suspicion that he might not love me back.

Good shout out. For what Dungeon World lacks in crunchy gameplay, it more than makes up for with a complex understanding of player psychology and human mechanics. 

Worth reading up on if you want to learn some ways to improve, and adapt for, your tabletop game. The system is very rules-lite and supremely comprehensible as it focuses on the people playing rather than the game as a concept.

Monday Night Dungeon Mastering - The Surrender Fallacy

Writers can find themselves itching with an idea. This singular concept of story and narrative sits sluggishly on their minds and teases them with a feather between the shoulder blades. The writer sees their idea as a defining moment of ultimate action that must be realised to be itched. It is where the story comes to climax and the reader is struck in their seat with the awe of it. It is so pure and divinely emotional that it rattles the nerves to even contemplate it, but, if only the writer could wrangle their story into getting there.

This obsession over one moment trivialises the story as it ducks and weaves through itself. The world and characters begin bending and straining to the point of collapse to somehow allow this one moment to take centre stage. It’s the ego talking. We believe our own hype, and consequences be damned. Resultantly, the narrative suffers to propagate this flawed ideal.

This issue is prevalent enough within an environment where the writer controls all input. In a novel or script the writer has sole authority over characters and their agency. The world buckles and bends to their command and reshapes as they see fit. Now, imagine a narrative setting where you,as the writer, don’t control the characters …

… not even close.

Spoilers: you don’t have to. The answer is being a Dungeon Master. Big surprise.

As a Dungeon Master (and trust me, I sympathise) you will have these grandiose concepts for story and player character narrative. You want the game to be exciting. You want your players to have fun. But … 

but.

You kinda, maybe, also might want to show off a little. Just once or twice. Y'know, put your best foot forward and give yourself something to be proud of once the session ends. You can’t let them have all the fun. Maybe its your world, or an NPC or villain you are particularly proud of. So you write that in, and you build the scene in your head. You will beautifully narrate the importance of the heroes’ quest, terrify them with the danger of your irredeemable - yet morally complex - villain, and show the best of the world you have poured countless hours over in your study. You have perfected every encounter, named every tavern and drink, statted every character down to the skill points and pettiest of equipment, and you are ready to blow your player’s minds.

BUT THEY WON’T

SIT

STILL.

The illusionist rogue kicks away from his seat and hurries to harass your chieftain-warlord of grotesque, inhuman rage. The barbarian flips her table and rushes your undercover, double-agent assassin with a maul without an inkling of provocation. The wizard casts a counter-spell on your sorcerer as he tries to dramatically teleport away, leaving him stuck in a sad, little cloud of expended, magical smog. The bard just WON’T STOP SEDUCING THINGS. 

So you snap.

You take your player characters, sit them down, tie them up, and force them to listen. For once. You become one of those nightmarish preschool teacher who duct tapes his students to their chairs.

You set your players up for defeat, stacking the odds against them to such an insane degree that they simply have no other choice but to surrender, or maybe you don’t even give them the chance to surrender and kidnap them as they sleep. Every action is batted down, every interruption silenced. You take a breath, and begin to tell your story in peace to your captives.

Do not do this. Please. It is unhealthy and can damage trust.

If you want a passive and silent audience, write a book. This just has the players feeling as if the DM has reached across the table and stolen their character sheet so she can play by themselves.

It manifests in many ways. Overbearing cut-scenes, NPC plot-armour, save-or-die mechanics, vetoed player actions, forced mulligans or redo’s. (Note how these are different from narrative or gameplay effects, like simply being taken prisoner, or getting knocked unconscious / paralysed in combat . The Surrender Fallacy is when the DM refuses player agency and does what he wants without allowing their input)

These are your players - your friends: people who have put aside their time and work to come to your game to play and have fun, not sit by and watch.

For one, they will hate it. They may behave like they accept it at the time, but their resentment will be immediate and sorely bitter. This is not a dynamic you want between your players and your game. If they have no control over their characters or their actions, then they will stop playing and do something else: play with their phones, talk about other things aside from the game. They will not be enjoying their time, no matter how happy you are, and eventually may just choose to not turn up.

To avoid this deathly circumstance you must do one, painful thing: you have to let go of your pride.

Your story will not be perfect - especially with players at the helm of it; it will be disastrous, chaotic, and downright sinister or even unheroic at times. But it will be their story. They will be in control of themselves. They will be acting. they will be playing, and they will be having fun in your world.

Learn to react to their shenanigans rather than demand something of them. Be happy with taking it slow, and do not get antsy when they are not chasing the plot about at breakneck pace. Don’t abandon narrative altogether; continue to keep things tense and the consequences real, but understand that a memorable story is always based off of character choice, rather than having none -  understanding that taking one road of a branching path makes their character unique with the knowledge that noone else would have done that same thing.

Respect your players and their agency, and they shall respect you, and your game.

And, most importantly,

Enjoy

Pixie x

Also ...

eBook will be released later today on ISSUU.com

Do you like fantasy, and big, magical birds? Then it might just interest you enough to check out my eBook; Crow Eater.

Monday Night Dungeon Mastering - The Surrender Fallacy

Writers can find themselves itching with an idea. This singular concept of story and narrative sits sluggishly on their minds and teases them with a feather between the shoulder blades. The writer sees their idea as a defining moment of ultimate action that must be realised to be itched. It is where the story comes to climax and the reader is struck in their seat with the awe of it. It is so pure and divinely emotional that it rattles the nerves to even contemplate it, but, if only the writer could wrangle their story into getting there.

This obsession over one moment trivialises the story as it ducks and weaves through itself. The world and characters begin bending and straining to the point of collapse to somehow allow this one moment to take centre stage. It's the ego talking. We believe our own hype, and consequences be damned. Resultantly, the narrative suffers to propagate this flawed ideal.

This issue is prevalent enough within an environment where the writer controls all input. In a novel or script the writer has sole authority over characters and their agency. The world buckles and bends to their command and reshapes as they see fit. Now, imagine a narrative setting where you,as the writer, don't control the characters ...

... not even close.

Spoilers: you don't have to. The answer is being a Dungeon Master. Big surprise.

As a Dungeon Master (and trust me, I sympathise) you will have these grandiose concepts for story and player character narrative. You want the game to be exciting. You want your players to have fun. But ... 

but.

You kinda, maybe, also might want to show off a little. Just once or twice. Y'know, put your best foot forward and give yourself something to be proud of once the session ends. You can't let them have all the fun. Maybe its your world, or an NPC or villain you are particularly proud of. So you write that in, and you build the scene in your head. You will beautifully narrate the importance of the heroes' quest, terrify them with the danger of your irredeemable - yet morally complex - villain, and show the best of the world you have poured countless hours over in your study. You have perfected every encounter, named every tavern and drink, statted every character down to the skill points and pettiest of equipment, and you are ready to blow your player's minds.

BUT THEY WON'T

SIT

STILL.

The illusionist rogue kicks away from his seat and hurries to harass your chieftain-warlord of grotesque, inhuman rage. The barbarian flips her table and rushes your undercover, double-agent assassin with a maul without an inkling of provocation. The wizard casts a counter-spell on your sorcerer as he tries to dramatically teleport away, leaving him stuck in a sad, little cloud of expended, magical smog. The bard just WON'T STOP SEDUCING THINGS. 

So you snap.

You take your player characters, sit them down, tie them up, and force them to listen. For once. You become one of those nightmarish preschool teacher who duct tapes his students to their chairs.

You set your players up for defeat, stacking the odds against them to such an insane degree that they simply have no other choice but to surrender, or maybe you don't even give them the chance to surrender and kidnap them as they sleep. Every action is batted down, every interruption silenced. You take a breath, and begin to tell your story in peace to your captives.

Do not do this. Please. It is unhealthy and can damage trust.

If you want a passive and silent audience, write a book. This just has the players feeling as if the DM has reached across the table and stolen their character sheet so she can play by themselves.

It manifests in many ways. Overbearing cut-scenes, NPC plot-armour, DM controlled Party Members, save-or-die mechanics, vetoed player actions, forced mulligans or redo’s. (Note how these are different from narrative or gameplay effects, like simply being taken prisoner, or getting knocked unconscious / paralysed in combat . The Surrender Fallacy is when the DM refuses player agency and does what he wants without allowing their input)

These are your players - your friends: people who have put aside their time and work to come to your game to play and have fun, not sit by and watch.

For one, they will hate it. They may behave like they accept it at the time, but their resentment will be immediate and sorely bitter. This is not a dynamic you want between your players and your game. If they have no control over their characters or their actions, then they will stop playing and do something else: play with their phones, talk about other things aside from the game. They will not be enjoying their time, no matter how happy you are, and eventually may just choose to not turn up.

To avoid this deathly circumstance you must do one, painful thing: you have to let go of your pride.

Your story will not be perfect - especially with players at the helm of it; it will be disastrous, chaotic, and downright sinister or even unheroic at times. But it will be their story. They will be in control of themselves. They will be acting. they will be playing, and they will be having fun in your world.

Learn to react to their shenanigans rather than demand something of them. Be happy with taking it slow, and do not get antsy when they are not chasing the plot about at breakneck pace. Don't abandon narrative altogether; continue to keep things tense and the consequences real, but understand that a memorable story is always based off of character choice, rather than having none -  understanding that taking one road of a branching path makes their character unique with the knowledge that noone else would have done that same thing.

Respect your players and their agency, and they shall respect you, and your game.

And, most importantly,

Enjoy

Pixie x

What’s your favorite role playing system.(I’m making a blog that’ll mainly be pregenerated characters so I wanna find what systems big successful blogs like)

Good question. A simple Question, but a good question.

Well, firstly, I hope you have good fortunes with your blog. It’s a good creative outlet nowadays. We need more of them.

My favourite RPG system was always Pathfinder. Always, ever since 2012 when I first got it. I adore the classes, the mechanics, the books, and the visceral, almost geometric fantasy artwork of Wayne Reynolds.

However, I must admit that over recent years, my tastes have explored a few other things within the tabletop RPG circuit.

I now realise, in the infinite wisdom of a something-year-old person, that there is no better setting for a game than Shadowrun 5e. The books are gorgeous to read through, with bustling, intense chapters almost entirely devoted to lore and customisation. Combat is slow and Deckers are always a pain for game-flow, but I can forgive its flaws for what its done for me and my character designs. However, this is all from a player’s perspective, (which is uber rare for me) so, you know, maybe don’t trust everything that I say. I am just a blog after all. A nice blog, but opinions are opinions.

But, I can always speak highly of any edition of D&D (particularly AD&D, 5th, and even bits of 4th), as well as the utter ludicrous nature of Savage Worlds - quick paced, violent, great for a narrative-combat mix (more to come on that later, hint-hint.)

Regardless, I hope this has helped shed some insight things.

Enjoy

Pixie x