You Are Brave Enough To Burn

Jan 30, 2012 14:05

I have been lax about doing this, which is no great surprise given my blogging track record. But on to matters of making kings.

The biggest thing that happened was my very first PC perma-kill. The priestess noted a type of mushroom that she could identify, but about which she couldn't recall any details. (Not quite enough on the Knowledge: nature check and they hadn't gotten around to talking to the Old Beldame yet.) After some waffling among the party members, the exasperated baron - presuming a paladin's Fort save would keep mushroom spores from doing anything awful to him - got down from his horse and kicked the mushrooms. Then a trendriculos ate him. The player will never live this down. I try not to let incidental monsters kill party members, but I will not save you from your own silliness. So they did the political shuffle and now the gnome is the new baron and Oleg has been fired as the treasurer to make way for an elven wizard.

Aside from the player they inadvertently killed, the mushrooms highlight a problem I noted before about the first two books. It's a false sandbox. The PCs can go where they like, yes, but if they don't go about it in a particular order, they are going to miss clues. Had they already talked to the Beldame then the name "rattlecap" would have rung bells. They probably still would have triggered the attack, but not in the way it happened. As it was, I dropped the Beldame's request. All of the mushrooms were squashed (and roasted) in the battle. It just seemed mean to have her say, "By the way, if you come across any rattlecaps..." The same goes for the spear in the hodag. They had not gotten the rumor about Stas when they killed the critter, so I just ditched it. (In that case, at least, there was absolutely no effect to outcome.) Lily Teskerton had made contact with the party, but events kept her from actually asking her favor until after the party had been to the Dancing Lady's Tower. This I could have dealt with, but other events mean that Lily will never ask for that statuette. I ended up moving Melianse and the loggers because my party was just never going through that hex again - or so it felt. I am getting rather sick of this.

I have also delved into a bit of adventure rewrite for the first time. First of all, I hate will-o'-wisps. They are fantastic, I suppose, if you approach GMing as an adversarial relationship with the players. Muahahahaha! Imma kill somebody! And you can't do a damn thing about it at 5th level. Magic immunity. A touch attack at +16 for 2d8 electricity. Natural invisibility as a move action plus fly - 50 feet and perfect, by the way. Oh, and fast healing if when they get someone into the negatives. (Did somebody order underwater ninja tigers?) The only thing that would be worse would be... an advanced will-o'-wisp. Aw, hell no. Candlemere sucked, but the advanced version in the lizardfolk village promised to be horrid. I decided it had to go.

But that was fine, because when I read through the lizardfolk storyline, I started having flashbacks to Book One anyway. Scaly people? With a masquerading something or other taking control of the community? Using magic to enhance the illusion? Starting wars just for the fear and trouble it caused? Oh hai, Tartuk! Same story, just... taller, really. I'll not get into my rewrite here yet, as my players are probably on their way to take care of that next session.

I do appreciate certain aspects of the adventure path, sometimes even because it's left details open. Sometimes, though, the writer's assumptions make for goofiness. For instance, let's talk about Tig, the brat. He's supposed to somehow make his way near enough to the lizardfolk village that they capture him. On his own and through environs that challenge 4th to 6th level PCs. Let's recall that the furthest south the PCs should have established their city is the Stag Lord's Fort - and some might have built farther north! There are two hexes between that one and the one that contains the lizardfolk, so more than 24 miles which includes a river crossing. My player tried to swim across the river and didn't quite make his 15 DC. Even a really capable eight-year-old is probably not going to make this trek. I had him steal a horse from a local fisherman, which helps a bit, but still. My husband points out that if the kingdom has expanded south from the Stag Lord's Fort at all then the numbers get a little more realistic. If the kingdom has expanded north instead, into the previously explored hexes, then the story stretches a little thin. If they started their town at the temple of Erastil or Oleg's, it just falls apart. Nothing that can't be dealt with, though. If you have to, you can just replace the side quest and have the party come head-to-head with the lizards over something else entirely. I suppose part of my concern is that the players are going to catch one of these oversights when I've missed it and am therefore unprepared to cope when they say, "Wait... how did that even happen?"

Let's see... I discovered that the errors permeating Book Two are not limited to silly typos. (Poor "wangering giant"...) Vesket is written with the Vital Strike feat. Vesket does not qualify for the Vital Strike feat. He needs another level and the second attack to sacrifice in order to get that double damage. I replaced the feat, but it's aggravating. If I had reason to believe that it was an isolated oversight, I would probably just let it go. But the wangering giant and a bunch of other mistakes, minor though they may be, make me doubt every stat block now. ::shakes tiny fist at the sky:: Hero Lab helps some, though. I'm halfway to convincing myself to just gist the stat blocks and then build an equivalent for every NPC and leveled monster, based on their monsters but not beholden to them.

I have also instituted a new requirement for my players: backup characters. In many adventuring games integrating a new character after a PC death causes minor role-playing issues. "Hello, Dude We Just Met In A Tavern! We think you're pretty. Come share our blood and treasure!" And that's if you're in town. In a dungeon that no one has entered for centuries, the new guy might have to be a decorative koi (Oops! Runelords spoiler!). In Kingmaker, it gets bloody ridiculous. "Hello, Dude Who Just Walked Into Town! Have you ever considered politics? Have we got a job for you!" So the idea is that the backups are already in town and known to the PCs. If someone suffers a character death, it is then somewhat easier in character to bring in a new party member.

In other news, I invited a fifth player to the table. This should help them a bit on the infamously difficult Adventure Path encounters as the levels go up. Although, those trolls are still going to be an issue without some tactical planning. (Also, it was very brave of me and you should all be proud. People are scary. GMing is nerve-wracking. I frequently feel like a moron and want to apologize to my players for being slow and stupid. I am convinced all players will hate me and never want to play again. ... I am an emotional mess, obviously. Heh.)

kingmaker, gaming

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