Tips & Tricks: Using Tools

When I first began role-playing, I did not even know what a role-playing game was. I was just a young kid pretending sticks my cousins, siblings, and friends and I would pickup were various weapons and implements of wizardry. We were knights, warlocks, demons, and all of our favorite heroes from pop-culture like The Ninja Turtles and G.I. Joe. We did not have, nor need any codified rules, miniatures to represent us, or maps to explore. We could just play and imagine and that was enough at first.

But somewhere along the way we began wanting a more consistent world to interact in, with characters that had definitive abilities and means of both taking and dealing damage. I still had barely heard of D&D at the time, and so I simply invented means of codifying our games. I would draw elaborate maps on huge sheets of construction paper, and we would use several decks of cards, often times modified based on the character to simulate attacks and defenses of varying strengths. 1 card was a basic attack or defense, whereas several cards would be used for more advanced techniques. It was a very crude game at best, but it worked for our purposes and that was enough.

“In order to keep up with the growing complexity of my games, I began using more and more tools…”

We would continue playing games using basic homemade rules like that for years until I inherited the red and blue boxes when my grandfather passed away. Everything changed after that day. I instantly began reading through the books cover to cover. I finished the solo quest my grandfather had started. I was hooked instantly. I finally had a system that was robust (compared to my simple games) and had detailed illustrations and stats for dozens of creatures and different characters to be. I ran my first session shortly after that (read about that HERE) and my games have grown ever more and more complex. In order to keep up with the growing complexity of my games, I began using more and more tools to help me create the most polished and immersive game possible. What began with simple sticks had grown to a collection of dice, books, miniatures, maps, and even a few props.

Entering the Digital Age

The dawn of the virtual tabletop was a game changer for DMs like myself. Whereas I had always wanted to create elaborate scenes using modelling and sculpture, I never had the space, money, or even the skills to do so. Sure I could roll out my 8′ x 4′ battle mat and plop down my Colossal Red Dragon miniature if I wanted to, but I could never have the full-fledged castle siege with full scenery like I desired. But VTTs gave me the ability to setup all of the worlds and scenarios I could possibly imagine. Now my players could instantly be transported from traversing sandy desert dunes, to being thrown into mountain top battles. From lost cities of legend, to outer space, or beyond! I could throw monsters at them that could never be realized with mere miniatures. From the fantastical creatures that are too niche or difficult to create as a sculpt, to those times when you need something that would simply be far too large to be cast in any medium.

Learning how to use these tools to their fullest extent has been extremely rewarding both to my games and players, as well as myself personally. Now when my players encounter a glowing demon from the realms of chaos, it actually glows! When I describe that my players cannot see but a few feet in front of them due to the extreme darkness, they can literally only see what I am describing on their screens! With a little more work you can even add in effects such as blood trails from wounded opponents, and flashy effects whenever someone casts a spell. The possibilities are becoming more and more endless, and for a game like ours, that is the goal!

Good Gaming!

Tales from a professional DM Part 1

I have been a Dungeon Master, or DM, for a long time. The entire time I have been playing role-playing games in fact. I have only ever been on the other side of the screen a very few times, and it never felt as comfortable as being the DM. I like creating worlds, setting scenes, and watching the simulation unfold once the players are added to the mix. I began writing up adventures, and before long I had more people wanting to play than I had time for. So I made a deal with the group that was not my friends and family; I would DM for them once a week, for $25. That was only $5 a person for them and they readily accepted. That was the first time I DM’d “professionally.”

Now I run a group once a week on Roll20, and things could not be going better. We were going to only play every other week, but they insisted on wanting to play more even though it cost more money. Right about now you are probably asking yourself why anyone would pay to play D&D. The answer is simple. You get what you pay for in this world. Many adults do not have time to waste waiting for other players to show up, or for them to take their turn for 30 minutes because they were on their phones the entire time everyone else was going, including the DM! So for them, it is worth paying to play in a group hosted by a DM who are all equally invested in maintaining a fun gaming experience for all. People tend to show up on time when they have paid to be there, and they respect each other’s characters and their own more as well. As a DM, knowing that I am being compensated for my time, at least a little, makes all the prep work so much more enjoyable and less of a headache to go through. It also allows me to invest in things like a Pro subscription to Roll20, allowing for many advanced features that make the game far more enjoyable for all.

“Many adults do not have time to waste waiting for other players to show up, or for them to take their turn for 30 minutes…”

If you are going to DM professionally, try to keep a few things in mind though.

1. The Players are expecting QUALITY
2. The Players are expecting PROFESSIONALISM
3. The Players are expecting FUN

QUALITY

This one is the hardest to objectively measure for yourself. You need feedback from your players, and often times years of practice before you are going to be good enough to DM professionally. That is okay though. Like everything in life, practice makes perfect. If you find that you are having a hard time coming up with creative ideas, just remember that the entire game of D&D is based on pre-written works, and most of the adventures rely heavily on all the same tropes that you see over and over again in fiction. If you are good at doing voices, that can often make for a richer experience, but remember that there is more to a character than a wacky voice. Even if you cannot do voices (I am no Seth MacFarlance myself) you can still bring NPCs to life through vivid descriptions and living personalities that adapt and change with the interactions the PCs provide. Lastly, use as many props, maps, miniatures and everything else available to make the world come alive as much as possible. The overall quality of a game can increase dramatically with a few well-built models or handout props.

PROFESSIONALISM

It is imperative when running a game for money that you do so with the highest standards of professionalism. Whether online or in person, all players should be helped to get completely setup, whether it is Session 0, or every time if need be. Some of the players are new, and would rather pay to be walked through it than feel awkward as their cousin’s roommate gets frustrated because they have not figured out their character sheet yet. All of your players should be aware of the etiquette at your table when it comes to talking during other players turns, cellphone usage/volume, out of character chatter, etc. You should make sure that everyone is respecting the other players as well. This includes showing up on time, giving timely notice of needing to miss a game, refraining from inappropriate conversations, etc. It is your job, as a professional DM to provide a professional environment for your group to play in.

FUN

Sounds simple right? Have fun. What could be easier? I mean you are playing a game after-all. But fun is objectively hard to quantify, and everyone’s definition varies to some degree. That is why we have so many variations on role-playing games today. Some people like a lot of crunchy mechanics, gritty realism, and accurate weapon and armor simulations in combat. Others prefer fluffy worlds rich in flavor and depth, with extremely simplified rules for character creation and interaction. Once everyone has agreed on a system, you still need to make sure that the setting is one that everyone is on board with. Someone hoping to play a classic Dragon Slaying Knight in shinning armor is going to be sorely dissapointed with a wild west styled game. Or someone hoping to play a Gnome only to learn that all the Gnomes were eradicated in the Great Gnome Gonening. This is where constant feedback from your players can really help once again. If someone is dissatisfied with something, finding out sooner rather than later can be the difference between someone having fun, or deciding that maybe D&D wasn’t their thing.

 

Good Gaming!

DMPCs: A Tale of Two Characters

An Artist’s Rendition of Atirakis. Art by Mat Andre.

In my first two official campaigns of Dungeons & Dragons, I was not only the DM, but I had drawn up a character of my own as well, a PC, controlled by the Dungeon Master, also called a DMPC. I drew up the same character both times; an Elf magic-user. Both times I named him the same name. He was my character.

The first incarnation did not last long, and was mainly there so that there was at least one character that my friend would be forced to interact with. My friend quickly turned him into a friendly rival of sorts, and for awhile, I was able to play it off like the characters did not like each other, but were forced to work together in order to accomplish similar goals. They became competing protagonists, after the friendly rivalry  broke down. My friend wanted to expand his territory into lands that my character controlled, and playing my character accurately, I told him that would cost him something that he treasured. I would make him give me a macguffin that I had given him and he had become attached to. It was a simple mirror, that when looked into, would show the viewer the future. Not the near future mind you, the very distant future. He would see airplanes and cars and microwaves when he looked into it, and would never understand what any of it meant; but he was convinced that there was something special about this mirror, so he refused to give it up.  What followed was a bloody civil war in the land that weakened our two pseudo-kingdoms so much that I had no choice but to accept that either my character or his would have to go. I decided that I would send my magic-user away. He secured a temporary treaty, and went off to explore an ancient land, and was never heard from again (at least, not anymore in that campaign!)

” I felt like I was playing a game of battleship against myself. I knew were every ship was, so I would either hit anytime I wanted to, or miss on purpose. “

The second incarnation of the character was a multi-class Elven Cleric/Wizard. He was the primary healer of the group, but also had plenty of arcane power to boost the party’s overall firepower and crowd control. Since multi-class characters often fell behind the curve, I did not think  that it would be a problem to run a character with the party. I was completely unprepared for what happened to prove me wrong. Instead of feeling outshined by my character, or resenting him getting a share of the experience points and treasure, my party decided that since my character was controlled by the Dungeon Master, that it was best if he was the party leader. I tried to take a backseat, and force the other players at the table to take the reigns, but every time we were faced with a decision to make, they would turn to my character. They knew that I would never completely screw them over, and that I always designed my character to be intelligent and wise. It was a fool proof plan, and it made me miserable. I felt like I was playing a game of battleship against myself. I knew where every ship was, so I would either hit anytime I wanted to, or miss on purpose.

The solution was once again to send my character away. I had another player who had drawn up a Monk (in the style of Dragonball Z) and, well let’s just say that it was time for that character to go too. So we embarked on a quest that would be remembered to this day as the mightiest, most epic quest of all time (so far anyways.) We were going to storm The Nine Hells, kill Asmodeus, and end the war between The Seven Heavens and The Nine Hells forever. Along the way, we battled devils, their minions, The Lords of Hell, rebel angels, and The Lord of The Nine himself, Asmodeus. Afterwards, we were allowed to take his formerly angelic spark, and cleanse it, allowing us each to become demigods, and ascend into the heavens, and realms beyond.

That was the last time I ever drew up that character as a DMPC. He is now an NPC who I use as one of the main protagonist/antagonists in all of my campaigns, depending on which side of the coin of good and evil the party decides to land on…

Sandbox vs Railroad

Going back now to the first campaign I ever ran; I remember that I drew up about 18 or more interconnected maps on construction paper. I had made detailed lists of the populations of various humanoids and monsters in each area (complete with Random Encounter Tables!) I had an extensive history of the world written up in timeline form that I had typed-up on my mother’s typewriter (this was a long time ago.) I even had a litany of NPCs ready to interact with and shape the world around them. As I covered in my first blog, my friend did almost nothing that I had anticipated, and we ended up using about 10% or less of the stuff that I had prepared ahead of time. Most of our sessions involved me having to make up an NPC or plot hook on the spot, or ad hocking rules for mass combat with siege weapons, castles, and dragons.

I was panicked at first. We were not only doing things that I had not prepared for ahead of time, but we were completely ignoring the massive pile of prepared material that I had, and wanted to actually run for someone! Then, my friend wanted to build a castle of his own on a newly conquered patch of land. I had an adventure drawn up that involved clearing a highway of Orcish bandits, and figured here was the perfect chance to get him to take up one of my quests. I told my friend that the quarry that mined the rock that he would need to build his fortress was many miles away, and that he would have to travel there in order to secure a contract with both the quarry, and the caravans that would carry his stone to him.

My friend foiled my first attempt to get him to take the plot bait by deciding that he would not have to go at all if he sent his NPC companion to settle the terms. I rolled some dice, and informed him that his companion had indeed made all of the necessary arrangements, however his first shipment has been delayed for an unknown reason. I figured that now the quest could begin, however, instead of investigating (as I assumed he would) he told me that he was simply going to continue to wait. I rolled some more dice, and  I informed him that his second shipment was now also late. He gave the order to send some of his scouts down the highway to see if the caravans were coming, or if they were missing, or what was going on. I rolled some dice, again, and I proclaimed that his scouts had returned with a caravan guard, who had been badly wounded in battle, and was clearly dying. When asked what had happened, the guard claimed that the wagons were set upon by Orcish bandits wearing black cloaks with an angry red eye painted on the back.

“[The world] could be a dynamic and interactive simulation, rather than a series of adventures to be played in order.”

Now at last my hook was set, (or so I thought). My friend would have no choice but to go and confront these bandits, and eventually discover that they were actually outcasts from a local tribe that had been taken over by a bloodthirsty chief who exiled anyone unwilling to slaughter human villagers during raids. But he never went after the Orcs. Instead, he once again thwarted my attempts to get him involved in one of my adventures. He had my wizard character cast stone shape everyday until my character had built his castle for him using his magic. I was utterly defeated. Not only had he evaded my adventure, but he had accomplished his goal in spite of my attempts to make completing the adventure a necessary component of achieving that goal.

That is when it occurred to me that the world did not have to be run from Point A to Point B, like a fantasy novel, or a role-playing video game; instead it could be run from Point A to Point Q and back to Point A. It could be a dynamic and interactive simulation, rather than a series of adventures to be played in order. So I sat down and thought about what the consequences would be of my friend’s character not finding out about the bloodthirsty Orc Warlord in his backyard. I plotted out that the Warlord would eventually unite all of the other Orc tribes under his banner, and lead them in a single massive glorious assault against my friend. And that is exactly what happened. It was an amazing epic campaign. It was one of the best battles I ever had in any game. It was easily one of my most memorable adventures ever too, even if he never did find out that this all stemmed from a low level plot hook that he never took…

Good Gaming my friends!

– The Dungeon Master

NEXT TOPIC: DMPCs

Critical Moments

My first steady group of players started playing with me around the time 2nd Edition D&D was dying. My older brother, and two friends of ours, joined me (as the Dungeon Master,  of course) in my first real group campaign. My brother had rolled up a Centaur with a Dire Tiger companion. One of our friends was a Half-Elf Wizard, while the other one was a Human Monk (well sort-of, but that is another story for another time.) I was still in the habit of drawing up a character with everyone else, so I drew up, you guessed it, another Elven Wizard, but this time he was a Wizard/Cleric.

We were all exploring the ruins of the old empire, when suddenly, we were plunged deep underground by a collapsing street. We could barely see anything from the dim light shining down from above, so my friend’s Wizard cast a Light spell. We were in  yet another ruined city, this one much more ancient and dilapidated than the first. Among the crumbling buildings, we saw several statues of brave warriors. Some of them had their faces twisted in grotesque masks of fear, or anguish, others were frozen, mid-swing or charge, almost as if their own personal battle was stuck forever in that moment in time.

Just then, the Dire Tiger’s ears shot forward, alerting us of coming danger. We all rushed and took up defensive positions, hiding behind the statues, or crouching by sections of crumbling wall. Out of the shadows a form came slithering towards our positions. It had a huge snake-like body, with a woman’s torso, arms, and head. Her hair was made of dozens of venomous snakes. In her hands she held a battle-bow. Across her back was strapped a quiver of deadly poisoned and barbed arrows. It was the legendary Medusa we faced, and we were doomed! We had no protection against her petrifying gaze, and no way to restore our allies should they succumb to it.

We spent the next several rounds simply trying to avoid her petrifying gaze and move around to a better tactical position. Unfortunately, we were in her home, and she outmaneuvered us to gain the high ground and a sniper’s perch on us. We were trapped in a corner, desperately attempting to avoid the poisonous tips of her arrows, when suddenly I rolled a natural “1” for her ranged attack against us. What was I going to do about this? There are no official Critical Hit or Fumble charts in Dungeons & Dragons. It is left to each of us, as DMs, to decide what the rules are for rolling a natural 1, or a “fumble”; or for rolling a natural 20, or a “critical hit”, or “crit” for short.

I ruled that Medusa slipped on the edge of her perch while attempting to get a better shot at us. She was given a Dexterity check to see if she could grab the ledge in time, or if she would fall to the ground below. She rolled a 3, and came crashing down. We seized our opportunity, and fled while she was recovering. We were so intent on getting away from Medusa, that we did not even care which way we were running, or what we were running into. That changed when we felt the swamp water begin to seep into our boots. We had found ourselves ankle deep in murky, algae ridden water. We began to argue amongst ourselves as to what we were going to do now. We had no idea where we were, we had no idea how to get back to the surface, and we were now wet as well. Suffice it to say, we were caught completely off-guard when the green dragon’s head came up from the deeper parts of the swampy water.

My brother’s Dire Tiger companion leaped into action, pouncing on the dragon, and attempting to rake him with his deadly claws. My brother rolls. It’s a natural 20, a Crit! Everyone starts shouting. Now, you have to understand, back then we had a rule; one 20 was an automatic hit, but two 20s in a row was a chance for an automatic kill. So he rolls again. It’s another natural 20. Everyone is freaking out, jumping out of their seats, high-fiving each other, thinking that they were about to automatically kill an impossible foe with a lucky roll. My brother rolled his d20 a third and final time. All he had to do to kill the dragon was not miss this roll. The Dire Tiger had an amazing attack, so I believe that he just had to roll above a 6 to succeed.

“…we found a way to make the roll of the dice change, in a drastic way, the outcome of the adventure, and the character’s lives.”

As the dice left his hand, we all had a feeling that something amazing was about to happen, we just did not realize what it would be. The dice hit the table and bounced, once, twice, three times. It started to come to a stop. Now, anyone who has played D&D (or any rpg) long enough can tell you, there is a moment sometimes when you can see the dice almost decide to roll just one more time. To flip that one last side. We all watched, as that dice took an eternity, before finally tipping one last time, and landing on the “1” side. Everyone went as silent as the grave. What did that 1 mean? What was going to happen now? Clearly the Dire Tiger had hit the dragon, so what had changed from him almost killing the dragon?

Again, there is nothing to cover these situations in the books. They are something that you have to deal with on your own, usually as they come up in the game as a surprise for everyone! I decided that the Dire Tiger’s claws had become embedded in the Dragon’s thick scales, and that when he went to rake the dragon, he ripped his own claws out. It was a brutal moment, for everyone involved, but one that we will never forget.

We have rolled a million d20s over the years. More natural 1s, and 20s than I can remember. So what makes those stand out so much? Why are those more special than others? Because we found a way to make the roll of the dice change, in a drastic way, the outcome of the adventure, and the character’s lives. We knew that we were dead when we stumbled into the lair of Medusa, until she rolled a 1 and allowed us the time we needed to escape. The Dire Tiger was about to rip the Black Dragon’s head off because of the two natural 20s he rolled in a row, until the natural 1 altered that moment, and my brother’s character forever…

Good Gaming my friends!

– The Dungeon Master

NEXT TOPIC: Railroad vs Sandbox

Role vs Roll: Ending the Debate

When I first started playing D&D, I was not only a new player, but also a new Dungeon Master. I had never played D&D with anyone before as a player, and therefor I had never actually seen a game of Dungeons & Dragons being played, ever. I had seen a couple of movies like Mazes and Monsters, and I extrapolated the rest of what I thought I knew about role-playing from societal stereotypes and preconceptions. For me, at the time, I thought that the game had to be completely immersive, as realistic as possible, and tell the greatest stories anyone had ever heard. No out of character talking would be allowed in my games. I even envisioned getting a hooded cloak and staff and dressing the part of a so-called real Dungeon Master one day.

That was exactly what I thought was going to happen. But, then my first campaign began. My only steady player was my best friend. We were just starting High School, so a couple of guys would play here and there, but most of them either lost interest or were too busy to play with any regularity. My friend had drawn up a Human Druid, and since I was pretty much running a solo campaign, I also drew up a character. I drew up another Elven Magic-User, the exact same as my first character. We had our characters drawn up, my world was about halfway done being drawn out on maps, and we were ready to play. But instead of wanting to play by talking in-character and describing the actions that we undertook, my friend was more into the mass combat and conquest scenarios that were intended to be merely the backdrop for my campaign. He simply was not interested in role-playing anything. Not the interactions with his lieutenants and their underlings, not the heated negotiations with rival kings and lords, not even the meeting of his wife or the raising of his children. He only wanted to command his armies on the field of battle and be told about everything else that happened off-screen, so to speak.

That first campaign of mine went on for about a year or so. My friend’s Druid ended up conquering the entire starting continent, and we decided that that was as good a place as any to stop and regroup. I never once got to speak to him in-character as any of the NPCs, or even as my Elf. But regardless of everything else, that was my first real campaign, and I loved every second of it. Nothing went the way that I thought it would. We did not even play the way that I thought we were required to play. Instead we just made-up a bunch of stuff, rolled some dice, told a few jokes, and had the most amazing time learning how to play D&D ever.

Years later, I got the opportunity to play a game of White Wolf’s, Vampire: The Masquerade with my cousin. She had played it a bunch with her group, and was willing to run a solo campaign for me. I was super excited. Not only was I going to get to see how someone else ran a game, but I loved vampires and was looking forward to playing out the story of my character. I drew up a Toreador and decided that he had been sired by one of the Antediluvians. She ran that game as a pure role-playing experience. In fact, there was no need for me to have taken the time to fill out my character sheet, because no dice were ever rolled. I had built a character that  was a combat machine, with proficiency in both small arms and melee combat, but instead of getting to try out any of the mechanics for combat, I spent my entire first session talking to other vampires at a fancy party. I even attempted to force the issue at one point, by specifically looking for a fight, but there was no derailing this train. Now, I am sure that her group enjoyed hundreds of hours playing their particular style of role-play, but I never played another session after that. In fact, I never played any of the World of Darkness games after that. I still love their stories and world concepts, but the game had been forever ruined for me.

“As long as you can communicate what it is that you want, and are comfortable with, there should not be any issues.

Does that mean that I did not, or do not like role-play? No, not at all. I have always had a love for acting (I was involved in my local theater company since I was a small child), and I enjoy the deep level of immersion that my current campaign has taken on. However, the fact remains that one of my favorite campaigns ever involved no role-play at all, whereas one of the worst gaming experiences I have had was nothing but role-playing. So what is the answer? Which is better?

Neither is better. Both are better. It simply depends on who is playing, who is running the game, and whether or not those styles can be blended into a fun and exciting campaign. Some players would not feel comfortable playing with a DM, or fellow players, who spoke in-character using accents and voices, while wearing costumes and holding replica weapons. Some players feel superior to others and refuse to play with anyone that they feel is not up to their level of role-playing ability. As long as you can communicate what it is that you want, and are comfortable with, there should not be any issues. If Player A wants to talk in-character as Rathar the Unkillable to Player B’s character, whom Player B is more comfortable talking as in the 3rd person, that is okay! Remember, the goal is to have fun, not to prove who is the best actor…

Good Gaming my friends!

– The Dungeon Master

NEXT TOPIC: Critical Moments

I am The Dungeon Master!

I am The Dungeon Master, and I would like to welcome you to my blog. We are going to be discussing many topics that Dungeon Masters face in preparing and running sessions of D&D and other Role-Playing Games. From how to get started, to how to deal with problems that arise, and everything in-between.  So without further ado, let’s begin by discussing how I got started as a new DM…

Before I ever owned a D&D book, I only ever played generic, homemade rpgs using decks of cards, hand drawn boards, or just our imaginations (and perhaps a few sticks to swing at each other lol.) All of that changed though when I was 12. My Grandfather passed away and left me the now infamous Red and Blue Boxes of D&D and AD&D, respectively. I opened them up and saw that my Grandfather had started the solo adventure contained in the Red Box. I attempted to run it for myself, but quickly lost interest. For me, it was like playing chess against myself, I just did not feel challenged enough to maintain interest.

Flash forward a few months and I have now convinced my younger Step-Brother to roll-up a Human Fighter to accompany my Elf (magic-user) on a adventure that I had written. We were supposed to travel through the woods, into the hills, find a cave, and “liberate” some treasure from some goblins that had taken up residence there. Our first encounter was with three wolves. The Fighter moved forward to protect my Elf, since I had rolled poorly on my 1d4 and had only 1 Hit Point after subtracting 1 for my low Constitution Score. I cast Magic Missile at the lead wolf, damaging him, but not putting him down. The wolves charged in, and the first one bit the Fighter, and then tripped him, leaving him on the ground, prone. Things went south quickly from there. The next wolf charged in and bit the Fighter, leaving him with 0 HP, and the last wolf finished me off with a single bite. My first official session of D&D ended with a Total Party Kill in the first (and only) round of a warm-up encounter with three ordinary wolves… I was devastated. I thought that I was the worst DM in the world, and that I had failed miserably at my first, and what would probably end up being my last, chance at running a session of actual Dungeons & Dragons.

“It doesn’t matter what happens, as long as everyone has fun at the end of the day. A Total Party Kill can be the most fun and memorable session ever, it all depends on the DM and the Players.”

But then something unexpected happened. My Step-Brother laughed, and said “Well… that was fun. Want to try it again?” I was absolutely dumbfounded. I didn’t understand. How could that have been so much fun that he wanted to try it again? I didn’t want to waste time overthinking it, so I said yes, and we reset the encounter. This time I had us encounter only a single lone wolf, and it still almost finished us!  We never did make it all the way to the Goblin cave, but we had fun playing, and that was the greatest lesson I could have learned as a new DM. It doesn’t matter what happens, as long as everyone has fun at the end of the day. A Total Party Kill can be the most fun and memorable session ever, it all depends on the DM and the Players. Whether you are writing up an original adventure, or using a pre-written module, remember that at the end of the day the goal is not, and has never been, to complete the dungeon, rescue the princess, save the world, or kill the party. The goal is, and has always been, to have fun…

Good Gaming my friends!

– The Dungeon Master

NEXT TOPIC: Role-Play vs Roll-Play