A third round of megadungeon mechanics: mercenaries

 

I've been thinking a bit more about how adventuring parties will be structured in my episodic megadungeon campaign (see here and here for previous thoughts). 

In some ways, this campaign is going to be much more of a wargame than most of the games I run, though there will be ample opportunities for roleplaying. But the game will take the form of successive armed raids on a (largely) subterranean stronghold of great size, and so tactics and organisation will play a large part. 

Each party will consist of the PCs plus an equal number of non-combatant lantern-bearers (torch-bearers, porters, etc.) and the same number of pack animals (mules, donkeys, camels, whatever). These are 'free' in that they're assumed to have been hired or bought before the game starts. So a party of three adventurers will be accompanied by three lantern-bearers and three pack animals. The fixed ratio makes it simple, and there's no 'on-screen' cost to the players. 

A party with just three combatants will represent easy pickings for monsters, however. So PCs would be advised to bolster their numbers with mercenaries. This decision is down to the party's leader - the PC with the highest CHA - but individual PCs can also choose to hire their own bodyguards.

So, how does hiring work? Well, it's simple: hired fighters get a share of the loot: an equal share (with certain exceptions - see below). 

That introduces a nice risk/reward consideration from the get-go. Do you hire 10 archers to rain arrows on the orcs on the first level? It might work well - but then your party of three will have to split any loot 13 ways, assuming that everyone survives. That assumption might not be safe, of course, but most parties will balk at getting such a small fraction of any takings.

Now, if the party's leader decides not to hire mercenaries, party members can still opt to split their shares with hired hands. So, a cautious dwarf might not like the idea of going in with just three fighting adventurers and might opt to split his share with three of his kin. Those dwarves will answer to him, of course.

There's also potential to play on the idea of the Doppelsöldner and allow the PCs to hire higher-level fighters for a higher share of the loot. Dungeons & Dragon's level system provides an obvious way to do this. But there will be scarcity limits on high-level fighters: no more than one third-level or two second-level hirelings per PC. So, if our three-strong first-level party hires three third-level fighters, the loot will be divided into 12 shares, with each of the hirelings taking three of those and the PCs getting only a quarter of the spoils between them.

Non-divisible treasures (magical swords, amulets, etc.) will be chosen by combatants in turn, starting with the highest-level character, whether PC or NPC, and then rolling dice for priority. So if our first-level party hires three third-level fighters and then finds the Drinker in the dungeon, one of those hirelings is likely to make off with it (which might be just as well).

Note that hirelings are not potential PCs in the way that lantern-bearers are. If your character gets killed, you can roll up a new character and embody him or her in one of the lantern-bearers, who, when offered the gear of the slain adventurer, has just acquired a taste for adventure. But hired fighters don't become PCs in the same way. They can, of course, be run temporarily by players who've lost their characters if the party is down to its last lantern-bearer.

This means that players can't leapfrog to higher-level characters after PC deaths. It also means that hiring high-level fighters is always costly unless they're slain on the job. Your party doesn't get to keep the Drinker because you took over Ulav the Fearless mid-game; instead, you roll up a new PC when the expedition ends.

That's the main system for hiring fighters. But there will be an alternative available once the party has amassed a bit of cash. They will be able to hire fighters for a day rate,  paid in advance. This rate will be much higher than that in the Rules Cyclopedia, so that it forces the players to make tough choices about how they spend their loot: hire help, progress in experience or buy better equipment. And fighters hired in this way will also be subject to the classic Rules Cyclopedia morale rules. They've already been paid, so if things go badly, they're more likely to break and run. After all, if you think that the orcs are about to finish off the party, you're not going to be too concerned about breaking your contract with a corpse. 

I also like the idea of unscrupulous PCs hiring equally unscrupulous orcs. As in Rules Cyclopedia, this will be significantly cheaper than hiring human fighters. But it will also be riskier. First, orcs will be morale 6 rather than the morale 8 for human mercenaries. Second, their loyalty will be vulnerable to reaction rolls in encounters with certain creatures (powerful ones that can speak orcish, such as ogres). And third, you always have to worry about situations in which your orcish hirelings outnumber you and are not afraid of you. I might, though, allow orcs to fight for half-shares under the share system, in which case they would still be subject to morale rolls (unlike human mercenaries fighting for a share)  but with morale 8 rather than 6 (i.e. the share incentive acts as the equivalent of a strong leader as described in the Rules Cyclopedia).

The net effect of all this is to make orcish hirelings a high-risk proposition that could be tempting in certain circumstances. If you're going to storm the hobgoblin stronghold, a few dozen orcish mercenaries could be a cheap way to achieve overwhelming numbers. But you don't want things to go too badly for them (prompting morale rolls) - or too well (so that there are lots of them inside and in control of the stronghold before the party establishes control). 

Scratch-built brain collector

 

The party stumbled across a brain collector in the depths of Castle Amber as our last session of 2020 came to a close. For the first session of 2021, I knocked this fellow up out of Fimo, tin foil and mince-pie trays.

More megadungeon mechanisms

Happy New Year!

After yesterday's post on the last lantern-bearer (the one who always gets away), I've been thinking of a few more mechanisms for the episodic megadungeon campaign I plan to run this year. These are mostly fairly arbitrary-seeming rules that will - I hope - add tension, excitement and a bit of grit to the game.

I'll probably use some variant of the original D&D rules for this (possibly Whitehack). I want to strip things right back, so that hit points are low and deadliness is high. In our regular D&D campaign, I use STR in the Into the Odd style: with characters losing STR points after their hit points are gone and having to make a STR save each time they take STR losses. That works really well - but for this campaign, I might go for maximum deadliness, so that starting PCs may well just have 1 or 2 hit points each. That should amp up the risks nicely.

So here are some of these mechanisms.

1. Adventuring parties are always accompanied by an equal number of non-combatant porters/lantern-bearers and the same number of pack animals. There's no point going on a treasure-seeking expedition to the Underworld if you don't have the means of carrying off the loot. And - in meta-game terms - that gives us the pool of reserve PCs, the encumbrance and lighting solution, and the continuity mechanism that I outlined yesterday. The pack animals also carry plenty of food, water and fuel.

2. Party casualties are always replaced from the lantern-bearer pool, with a new character rolled up on the spot. Such replacements can be of any class (hitherto hidden talents) and are equipped from what can be salvaged from the dead or provided by the rest of the party. The pack animals are likely to carry a few spare spears and bow. I'll probably have hand-to-hand weapons do damage by class rather than type (fighters d8 or d10 for two-handed; clerics, elves, dwarves and thieves d6 or d8; magic-users d4 or d6), to avoid any class restrictions on weapons.

3. Expeditions always end when the session ends. This isn't an original idea, of course, but I think it'll provide a nice rhythm and aid continuity, especially as the players aren't likely to be exactly the same each time. I might provide some narrative cover for this ("You need to get out by nightfall - the place is crawling with monsters after dark"), or I might just leave it entirely arbitrary.

4. Escaping lantern-bearers don't bring party treasures or equipment with them. They are assumed to have fled as fast as their legs can carry them. But they do know where the loot was last seen - and are able to guide a new party back to that point. It's unlikely, of course, that the loot will still be lying around. But if Baldros the Bold and his men met their end at the hands of the Iron Hand hobgoblins, it's a fair bet that the hobgoblins now have the golden idol that Baldros stole from the troglodyte tribe.

5. Gold provides XP - but only when it's spent (on training, better equipment, magical research, etc.) Living costs are included in this it's assumed that the PCs pay for their upkeep during the course of their training or studies. I'll probably seriously revise whatever armour and weapon list I use so that better weapons (two-handed swords, etc.) and - especially - better armour is seriously expensive. That way, there should be a nice dilemma for expedition survivors: better gear or character advancement? And of course, this mechanism keeps the focus squarely on loot - which incentivises dungeon-crawling.

6. All parties have a nominal leader - the PC with the highest CHA. This is largely for "historical" atmosphere in the dungeon: "That's where they got Captain Juras and his lot. That's him there - turned to stone!" or "See the tarred head on the spike up there? That's Chardro. 'Prince of Thieves,' he called himself. But the orcs are no respecters of royalty". The leader also has total control of the lantern-bearers/porters and pack animals, however. They go where he tells them to (except when they flee, of course), which should help to keep the party together - especially in light of the following.

7. There is safety in numbers. In the dungeon, large groups are much safer than small ones. You might think that a couple of thieves could sneak off on their own, relying on stealth and guile to get in and out with choice items of loot. But the dungeon ecology is against you. Wandering monsters - dangerous vermin of all sorts, including kobolds (or equivalent) - are always ready to pick off the isolated. And these creatures can see in the dark and are ever watchful from the safety of their burrows. Stragglers or break-off groups incite regular wandering-monster checks - and those monsters are numerous and emboldened. This makes plenty of sense: small creatures like kobolds are unlikely to risk frontal attacks on large, well-equipped groups (the kobolds don't know that the lantern-bearers won't fight). But ambushing a couple of thieves in the darkness? It's a near certainty. 

The point of all of this is to create a game in which the dungeon, rather than the party, is the focus, and in which 'victories' over the dungeon are to be prized. A total-party kill should come as an exhilarating last stand - and a successful expedition should feel like a real achievement. So too should taking a character up to second or third level - gaining the chance of surviving a hit or two in combat.

I'll be running this with 1/72 miniatures, which offers more space for all those pack animals and lantern-bearers on the table - and especially over Zoom. That scale is also somewhat "depersonalised", with the miniatures being more generic and interchangeable - which I see as a good thing for RPGs. 

The key, though, will be creating a megadungeon with plenty of interesting features and perils beside its inhabitants. I started work on this last year, and I hope to make it a major focus in 2021.

The last lantern-bearer: a mechanism for megadungeon campaigns

He always gets away ...

One thing I want to do in 2021 is get an episodic megadungeon campaign going alongside our daily D&D game. That campaign is inching up into higher levels, with most of the PCs around level six. I envisage the megadungeon game as being dingier, dicier and deadlier - featuring low-level characters with a high chance of mortality. It'll serve as an occasional refresher, an option for when some players can't make it, and a default setting for games with my occasional adult group. Every expedition will be perilous - and players shouldn't expect every character to come back.

That threatens continuity, of course. But I think I've found a way to resolve it: the last lantern-bearer. No matter what happens, he or she gets away to tell the tale - and fall into the employ of the next party. 

A while ago, I mused on the failings of pretty much every RPG encumbrance system I've encountered. Our long Zoom campaign has borne this out. With most of the character sheets out of my sight, the party always seems to be carrying a remarkable amount of stuff. I offset this to some extent with environmental restrictions ("no one wears armour in town/on a ship/in the desert"), yet the sheer volume of items carried continues to thumb its nose at realism. 

The coin-based treasures in older modules makes this worse. Today, I walked a couple of miles into town to obtain £5 in pennies and tuppences: basing for the great many 1/72 miniatures that will feature in this megadungeon. The weight of a mere 400 copper coins was noticeable on the way back - and trudging through the snow with many thousands would have been a struggle, especially if other gear were involved.

All based up and ready for the party ...

That leads to a simple default for the megadungeon campaign. Players carry their own gear, whatever gems and jewellery they can pocket or wear, and about 100 gp (in various metals). Everything else - the looted idols, the stolen artworks, the exquisite temple carpets - goes on the mules. And who tends to those? Why, the lantern-bearers, of course.

Here's how it works. Every party is accompanied by a team of mules or camels, and those are tended by a team of lantern-bearers - probably five or six. They do not usually fight; they do often flee. And at least one of them always gets away.

That sounds arbitrary, and indeed it is. But the concept serves three useful functions. 

First, the lantern-bearers provide a pool of reserve characters. There's nothing new there, of course. But these aren't henchmen. The sole circumstances in which they fight are when PCs die and their gear becomes available (offering, in game terms, the opportunity for the lantern-bearers to become PCs). The assumption is that the lantern-bearers are impecunious local youths. "Well, I guess you'd better put his armour on, son. If you can hold that spear steady, you can earn a share of the loot."

Second, the lantern-bearers remove all the usual encumbrance and lighting concerns. Their main tasks are to steer the mules, which carry the loot, and provide plenty of light. Those concerns are thus lifted from the PCs, leaving them free to concentrate on exploration, larceny and murder: the stuff they really enjoy. Because lantern-bearers don't offer a threat, monsters are likely to deal with the PCs first - and that gives the lantern-bearers ample opportunity to hide or flee (grabbing some light loot, perhaps, placing their lantern on the floor and trusting to the auxiliary torches they generally carry).

Third, the lantern-bearers provide continuity between parties. The problem with really dangerous megadungeons is that the wiping out of a party makes a second foray a little artificial. The players have already been there even though the PCs have not. But a recurring lantern-bearer or two plugs this hole nicely. Now the new party can learn all about the woes of the last one from someone who was there - and lived to tell the tale. It's artificial, sure, this inevitable survival of at least one lantern-bearer (and his inevitable hiring by the next party), but it's much less artificial than having the party learn from their deceased forebears without any connection. And if sessions are intermittent, the meta-gaming conceit can lead to appropriate in-game reminders: "That door, sir! That's the door that swallowed Captain Juras last spring. Be careful, sir, I beg you ...". 

What this allows me to do is to use the mega-dungeon for a series of occasional one-offs that build on each other despite frequent total-party kills. And by making TPKs a very real danger, I'm hoping to keep the players keen for revisiting - and revenge!

Happy Hogmanay!

Zargons of differing dimensions

One of the nice twists in The Lost City module is the cursed scroll in Zargon's lair that turns the reader into a tiny version of the big nasty. Alas, such a fate befell one of the party, with the result that Aust the dashing elf is reduced to a somewhat less elegant form for the foreseeable future. 

My son had the bright idea of using a GW plaguebearer skull as the basis for this; dryad branches formed the basis of the tentacles, with a nineteenth-century British soldier providing the torso. 

The new Zargon has already allowed me to reuse the old one, by casting phantasmal force to intimidate some hobgoblins. No doubt we'll see more of that as the campaign progresses.

 

Scratch-built Zargon

As the party got deeper into the Lost City (or at least its above-and-below pyramid), I had to get Zargon ready for them. I knocked this fellow up from Fimo and tinfoil during Saturday's rugby, before adding a bit of Milliput and greenstuff in the evening. I then speed-painted him on Sunday morning while keeping the kids at bay. He made his surprise debut tonight - and we'll find out how the PCs handle him tomorrow ...

(He's also based as a god element for Hordes of the Things.)

 

Essex goblins and Reaper beasties

Here are a few more miniatures based up for D&D and 'square-base' wargames like Oathmark, Chaos Wars and Chainmail. First up are some antiquated Essex goblins, which I rather like. They remind me of The Princess and the Goblin - from which Tolkien derived his orcs (minus the toeless and sensitive feet). This range clearly owes a debt to Down in the Dungeon.

Next are a couple of Reaper Bones beasties: a werewolf and a yeti. These will serve as a wulver and buggane in Oathmark, and I fancy that our RPG sessions may eventually feature lycanthropes and giant subterranean apes.