Animistic Engine

Hey, so this is my tumblr, where I blog and re-blog things between existential crises.

Combat and Storytelling

totalpartythriller:

Oh, hi there! I assume you’re here to read my new post. First of all, thanks for waiting so long! Secondly, this post was written assuming your game is designed to have regular combat. If you’re playing a game where combat is unlikely, you’re probably going to find this article useless. You can go now, you darling little pacifist. The rest of you murder-hounds, read away!

I used to hate running combat. Halfway through every fight, my players would slowly disengage, particularly when they were waiting for their turn. I tried harder challenges, enemies, mixing in traps, homebrew rules, but nothing seemed to work. Even though I got further and further into narrative DMing, I could never quite reconcile that into combat.

When I started writing comics, and learned how to write fight scenes, the solution revealed itself to me. My approach to combat was wrong. I was looking at the fight as mechanics and trying to shove narrative in between the gears. All this did was pulverize the narrative and gum up the mechanics. (I guess in this metaphor narrative is like, fruit, or people. Gross and horrifying.)

If I’d just taken a step back and changed my approach to combat, I would have saved myself a lot of boredom & frustration. Now, I have one rule:

Combat is conflict. Narrative runs on conflict. Therefore, combat is a form of narrative.

Just like any other scene, combat functions best on a narrative structure. Understand that turns in combat can be seen as discreet narrative units, each one moving the fight towards its stab-happy climax.

At the most basic level, each combat turn can be seen as a narrative beat. Remember Robert McKee’s model of looking at each action taken by the protagonist(s) as a continual turn of the tension-screw? It’s not hard to see how it applies to combat. Each action taken by the PCs widens or narrows the gap between them and their desired outcome.

Let’s take this idea further: More than simply increasing the tension, you can build combat with a narrative structure in mind. The most important thing is to remember that change is key. If a scene doesn’t provoke change in your protagonist or the world around them, it’s not doing its job. So with that in mind, here are the steps to make each combat a genuine narrative:

1. BUILD-UP

The PCs start off not engaging in violence, but in a situation that is quickly deteriorating/escalating into violence. Like the beginning of a story, we get a sense of the status quo before the inciting incident, as well as what’s happening to upset this balance. It’s a good time to set up things you’re going to reveal later in the fight - powerful attacks, resistances and vulnerabilities, environmental hazards, etc.

Occasionally you’ll have a combat that begins with an ambush or surprise round. You can still foreshadow with an air of menace: describe dark shadows, sounds that could be interpreted as threatening, etc… Evoke the suspicion that enemies are lurking, without necessarily confirming it.

2. OBJECTIVE

Establishing a clear objective for your PCs gives the fight a shape, a goal to be achieved or lost. If all fights are simply about taking out all the enemies, it starts to become repetitive and players switch off.

In a fight, the most common objective is “Survive”, but combat can have varied goals - “Destroy the Golem” calls for different tactics than “Protect the Goblin King”. Switch up the objective often, and your fights will feel more real and varied.

Objectives can also change mid-fight, particularly in Step 5. Sometimes this happens without you intending it to. I recommend rolling with this change, especially if it’s initiated by your players. Watch them come alive at the fact that they completely turned combat upside down!

While not all combats should have a lethal outcome for your PCs, the objective should be important enough that they feel the need to actually engage. People don’t put themselves at risk of bodily harm without good reason.

In some situations, you won’t be able to clearly set the objective until after the fight begins. I believe that if you’ve done your preparation, these incidents are rare, because the narrative will have set up the fight clearly, but it does happen and you shouldn’t feel bad if it does. Try to establish a clear objective for your PCs as soon as you can.

3. ATTACK!

Consider this the equivalent of the “Inciting Incident” in most narrative structures. The PCs roll initiative, enter combat, and begin the fight. Here they take decisive action that puts them in opposition to the forces around them.

Often this is where the disconnect between narrative and mechanics begins. Rolling initiative is necessary, but very mechanical. My trick is to be ready to quickly take my players’ initiatives, then immediately shift into descriptions of the NPCs drawing weapons, getting into stances, puffing themselves up to look threatening, etc. If you can combine the two it keeps the flow strong.

Some enemies may have abilities that they activate at the very beginning of combat. These are mostly environmental, status, or buff effects that shift the battle in their favor. It’s good to foreshadow these kinds of things during steps 1 and 2 so your players don’t feel totally blindsided by them. In fact, really making sure your players are aware of the battlefield and all it offers is great, because it gets them thinking about how to turn it to their advantage.

4. FEINTS AND LUNGES

Both sides make their first attacks, searching for weakness in their opponents. Continue dropping hints about monster strengths, weaknesses, abilities, or attacks they may be holding back until the right moment. Don’t completely give away what they are - part of the tension is your players guessing at what might be coming - but make sure when they happen, the players are thinking “Ah, that makes sense”.

As the fight’s narrative progresses, the PCs become familiar with their enemies and adjust their tactics. Like the “trials” of a story, the PCs are learning the rules of this particular fight - what works, what doesn’t. Here is the place where my fights became narratively boring; My players would find a tactic that works, and stick to it in order to take down their foes as efficiently as possible. The dynamic action of questing heroes falls away and is replaced by a slug-fest. To keep this from happening, it’s time to bring out…

5. THE “BIG GUNS”/WHIFF OF DEATH

Hit your PCs with a narrative roundhouse. The classic example is the “Big Guns” - an enemy busts out with a powerful, limited-use attack, claiming your PCs’ hit points and confidence. Even if your NPCs don’t have something like this, a simple change in the dynamic of the fight can often do it. Reinforcements could arrive, ready to take on exhausted PCs. The battlefield itself could change, granting opponents an advantage. An NPC could get a Critical Hit and take down one of the PCs. It doesn’t even have to be mechanical. A friendly NPC could turn traitor or simply flee in panic.

This moment should drive home the danger the PCs are in. Deep in combat, players get caught up in minutia like hit points or attack damage. This moment brings them back into the bigger picture. The possibility of failure is a rallying point for PCs, reminding them of what’s at stake.

6. THE REVERSAL

In most combats, the PCs will survive, and will consider the outcome a success. This is where they  begin to see that success. This part often starts when a hostile NPC is taken out of the fight. It may not be the first NPC - often it’s when a heavy hitter who’s been plaguing the PCs with heart-stopping damage or irritating status effects. In a fight with a single, powerful NPC, it could simply be them showing fatigue or injury. The point is to give the PCs a light at the end of the tunnel.

Yes, there are fights where this moment doesn’t come. If the PCs are simply overwhelmed by foes who are powerful (or just got too many lucky rolls), the best thing to do is still give them a moment that feels like a reversal, even if it peters out. You could also call this a LAST GASP - where despite losing the battle, the heroes make their opponents pay. These are rare - “boss fights” and hard challenges that generally occur at story-based climaxes. You’ll generally know when your PCs are facing a tough opponent, so you can plan accordingly.

7. FINISH THEM!

At this point, the threat’s back is broken, and the PCs are mopping up. If your NPCs are the kind of attackers who will flee when they know they’re beaten, let ‘em hoof it. A chase scene could develop! If they’d keep fighting to the bitter end, try to make it interesting - have them shout threats, angrily drop info that give the PCs a post-fight objective or clue. Let your PCs be badasses here - they’ve won the fight, it’s time to clean up and look cool while doing it. (Or not cool, if that’s the aesthetic your players are going for).

Of course, there is the chance of the PCs losing the fight. Call it THE NAIL IN THE COFFIN. Whether this is all of the heroes being incapacitated, their charge being killed, or their objective being taken by the other side, this is a dark moment for the PCs.

Keep in mind that some players may disengage a bit here to protect their feelings. On the other hand, some players may become personally aggressive & start voicing their frustration. While you should never take abuse from your players, keep in mind that they might need to do this to protect their emotional attachment to your game. If things break down, take a break and talk to them out of character. Character death and loss is something DMs should treat with respect and care.

8. PEACE IN OUR TIME

The fight is ended. One side is vanquished, the other victorious. Most of the time, your PCs will be the latter. Now, they loot bodies, interrogate prisoners, or simply continue on their way.

Much like the ending of any other narrative, things may return to “status quo”, but something needs to have changed. The combat should have moved the narrative or characters forward in some way. This is where the PCs losing can actually be helpful - it gives them a clear objective to strive for immediately after the battle. (Chase the objective stolen by the NPCs,, escape captivity, resurrect a fallen ally, etc…)

When you build a combat encounter, ensure that it will result in some sort of change or revelation for the PCs. They’re a great way to nest exposition in narrative. So long as the PCs have a clear next objective after the battle, it’s generally going to be a success!


Like any good scene, each combat calls for different approaches to these steps, based on your system, narrative, and your group’s taste. Sometimes these steps will come on their own without effort from you, other times you’ll have to throw them out like a bomb. Start keeping track during combat. Watch your players’ reactions.

If you’re still not sure of how to apply this structure to your campaign, look to fiction for inspiration! Think of fight scenes from your favorite films, tv shows, books and comics. What were the stakes? What options did the heroes have to win the fight? How did the fight express character, both from the protagonists and antagonists? Superhero Comics, Action and Martial Arts films are particularly good at this. Check out your favorites and think about how you can make your combats as dynamic as theirs!

Now get out there and get that TPK, you crazy blood fiends you.

Wrote a fresh one! Hoping to do more REGULAR ARTICLES, like every month for now to keep myself to a schedule.

A Follow-Up to Last Week’s Post

totalpartythriller:

So, in last week’s post I included this chart:

image

However…

There is one structure format missing from this chart that I find very useful, and that’s from Robert McKee’s book Story. McKee’s book is specifically aimed at screenwriting, and contains a lot more than just structure (It goes into character, visuals, word choice, tons of stuff that’s useful to all writers), but he has an interesting approach to structure itself. This is a very simplified version that just hits the key points I find particularly relevant:

  • The protagonist wants something.
  • They try to get it, but opposing forces prevent it.
  • The protagonist then decides to risk something to get past these forces.
  • This causes the opposing forces to increase, creating more obstacles.
  • The protagonist adapts to each of these forces in turn, changing in the process.
  • The protagonist eventually risks the one thing they are truly afraid to risk, and in doing so, achieves (or sometimes fails to achieve) what they wanted. (If they fail to achieve what they want, they often find what they need. More on this in a future post.)

This model looks at each scene as another “challenge” that moves the story forward based on the decisons of the protagonist(s). Other structures do this too, but to a lesser degree. McKee’s method centers around increasing the stakes of the story based on each choices the protagonist makes. With roleplaying, you’ve got characters that aren’t under your control. However, you control the world’s reaction to their

This is a good thing to keep in mind when creating challenges for the PCs, whether they’re combat, puzzles, chases, social interactions, etc. McKee says each scene should be dynamic, reflecting a change in the status of the protagonist(s), either positive or negative. Encounters should do the same. If it doesn’t advance the PCs toward their next goal, re-work it so it does, or cut it and save it for when it will work.

IMPORTANT: McKee notes how a scene can change from positive to “double” positive or negative to “double” negative. You don’t constantly have to alternate between the PCs “succeeding” and “failing”. Often, a triumphant story climax is built around double or triple positives as the players gain momentum to push through the challenge. At the other end of the spectrum, as you reach the lowest point of the story, double or triple negatives are often what drive home the “darkness before the light” and really make the players wonder if they’ll see their goal fulfilled.

The point is that encounters and scenes should be dynamic, always propelling your story and your characters toward change, either physical or emotional. Even the quietest, simplest of scenes need to mean something.

So propel yourself into your next gaming session!

Peace out.

Story Structure as a Model for RPG Sessions

totalpartythriller:

Have you ever had a session that felt a bit aimless? Like thing after thing just happened without any reason to tie it all together?

Maybe it felt… un-structured?

Structure forms the bones of a narrative. As you may have guessed by the title, this post is all about ham sandwiches using that structure in your game sessions. (I shouldn’t write opening paragraphs before lunch.)

What is this structure? Well, there are a lot of different “methods” for defining narrative structure. It never hurts to familiarize yourself with a couple, but they all more or less say the same thing. I mainly use Dan Harmon’s Story Circle, which is just a boiled-down version of Joseph Campbell’s “Hero’s Journey”(Outlined pretty well by Chrisopher Vogler here) There are a bunch more models, many of which are included in this slick chart:

image

CREDIT

I encourage you to seek some of these out and learn them in detail.

BUT HOW DO I APPLY THIS TO GM-ING?

Narrative Structure gives you a frame to build around, points to hit without needing to stay on a track, or an outline to fill in with zany colours and shapes! It also lets you give your PCs clear objectives so it never feels like they’re just sitting around, trying to figure out what to do next.

Simplest version:

A (lazy wizard/impoverished village/vampire prince) (needs a magical item/had their crops destroyed/wants their rival embarrassed.) They ask the pcs to help them. The PCs accept. On the way, they face (a deadly dungeon/vengeful elementals/sexy, pretentious vampires.) They learn things about the problem from them. Eventually, new information about the (cursed item/self-inflicted crop blight/werewolf ex-boyfriend) comes to light. This changes their (target/methods/vampire orgy planning.) They readjust and use their newfound knowledge to take out the threat. They return to their (patron/charge/blood bank) and get their (reward/praise/double-cross).

There are a thousand variations on this. The details don’t matter here, because that’s where each group will differ. What every game that uses these tools will have in common is:

  • Something’s Wrong.
  • The PCs try to right it.
  • They put themselves at risk doing so.
  • They face trials that give them a greater understanding of the situation.
  • They come to find not all is as it seems/face death
  • Find what they need to Make It Right.
  • Face the Final Challenge (Using what they learned from the trials)
  • Make It Right and/or Worse.

These challenges don’t require any kind of violence. (Though they don’t not require it either) They need not involve anything more than a 3-hour argument between players and NPCs. It could be infiltration, a hard journey, or a fancy-ass party. Whatever jangles your keys, man.

BUT MY PLAYERS AREN’T MY PUPPETS, WAAAAAHHH

The main difference between story in fiction and RPG sessions: THE PLAYERS DRIVE THE NARRATIVE. You don’t know exactly what choices they will make. They may not do what you think they will for each step. That’s cool. This is why, unlike writing a novel or screenplay, you’ll find that you DON’T want to clearly flesh out every scene, but rather use the structure tentpoles as goals or objectives for the PCs to hit.

BUT WHAT IF MY PLAYERS AREN’T INTERESTED IN MY HOOKS?

First off, if there’s a clear objective the PCs are invested in, you’ll find that the players want to see it through. This is where all that work you did in the Character Pitch Session will come in handy. If you know your players, and the characters they’re playing, you can tailor your sessions to the characters and their goals. You… did do that, right?

Oh, you didn’t? Well, time to get good at ad-libbing! Take some improv classes! If it’s getting really bad, losing whatever they’re chasing is a good point for the supreme ordeal/darkest hour/paying the price. Try to find a way for the PCs to call upon someone or something that will give them what they need… in exchange for a blank check-style favor.

Second, you know this shit. You and everyone at your table knows it because every time you intake a story

“Get used to the idea that stories follow that pattern of descent and return, diving and emerging. Demystify it. See it everywhere. Realize that it’s hardwired into your nervous system, and trust that in a vacuum, raised by wolves, your stories would follow this pattern.”

- Dan Harmon

You and your players know the rhythm of story. Given the chance, you will fall into these patterns naturally without much effort. People recognize when a good story is being told, and they want to help tell it. Trust your players, your instincts, & your creativity.

If Iron Man can do it, so can you!

BUT I’M TOO PUNK ROCK FOR THIS “STRUCTURE” STUFF/I DON’T LIKE TO BE PREDICTABLE/I HATE STORIES, I LIKE IT WHEN EXPLOSION/CONVERSATION/NOTHING IMPORTANT HAPPENS

Look, you can totally not do this. You can have your PCs going from dungeon room to tower keep, kicking down doors and getting kobold blood all over the place. You can spend 3 hours spending your gold on Equipment and making inside jokes about something that happened last session. If it’s fun for you, who am I to judge? I find that shit tedious, and I probably wouldn’t play with a group like that. I like my players invested in the story we’re telling, and this is a great way to achieve that.

Also, explosions, conversation, and nothing important happening can still follow the structure. See Mad Max: Fury Road, My Dinner With Andre, Most Coen Brothers Films

Yeah, the first couple times you do this, it’s gonna feel a little “paint by numbers”. That’s because you’re not good at putting meat over the bones yet. That takes time, and some levels in necromancer storyteller. But your players will forgive you if they have a clear sense of where they can take the session. Plus, they will push the boundaries of your story if they bump up against them. That’s what players do.

The point of this isn’t to make you follow the steps the same way every time. Sometimes your “road of trials/tree on fire” will be the PCs asking a bunch of questions, or arguing with each other. Sometimes your “turning point/darkest hour” will be a PC being reduced to 0 HP for 1 round.  What’s important is that you tailor these to both the story you want to tell, and what will engage your players.

BUT BUT BUT… ONGOING CAMPAIGNS! SERIALIZATION! I KNOW WORDS!

Look, “Fixing the Problem” doesn’t mean “Fixing ALL the problems.” You can solve this a few ways. #1 is Dan Harmon’s addendum, How TV Is Different. Now, the issue with this being applied with 100% rigour is it limits a type of player agency - being able to change the world. However, you can still have a LARGER status quo (The vampire prince is always in charge) while still seeing consequences of players’ actions (The players now have incriminating evidence to blackmail him into giving them sweet perks, like invites to a werewolf swinger’s party)

Ideally, the resolution should still have loose threads - either that couldn’t be addressed because of the flow of the action, or that were created by the PC’s actions. These threads can be tied onto hooks for future adventures. Look at comic books, movie trilogies, and serialized TV shows. Comic books in particular use something known as the Levitz Paradigm, named after DC Editor Paul Levitz, where once the most prevalent plot is resolved, the secondary plot gets a promotion, and a new plot is hired as an unpaid intern, for exposure.

I’M SCARED I’LL MESS THIS UP!

Yeah, you probably will. That’s ok though. Your players probably won’t care if they got some fun moments in and feel like they reached a goal. And we have the ability to learn from our mistakes, and do better next time! So, read some of those links, think about how you might structure your next session, and try it out. I’d love to hear all about it!

Now go, little one! Tell your story!

*Shoves you out the window*

Rebloggin’ my secondary as a test…

Rolled a 1 on my INT(Scheduling) Check

totalpartythriller:

Hello dear reader,

Unfortunately, I’ve overtaxed myself in the projects department and haven’t been able to show this blog the TLC it deserves. I promise I’ll come out with a new post in the next couple weeks, but til then here’s a little piece of worldbuilding from an old D&D campaign of mine:


Moradin and Erathis

Many years ago, when the world was young, Moradin was tending his forge when a star fell from the night sky and crashed nearby. Moradin, feeling this was a sign, sent his apprentices to search out the star and bring it to him. 

When they did, he saw it was made of a strange metal, much stronger and yet much lighter than Iron, about the size of an Ox. 

Moradin gathered all his strength, and struck the metal with his most powerful hammer. After 9 blows, the metal cracked and split open, and out tumbled Erathis. This is why 9 is a holy number to the Chosen of Erathis. 

While a child, Erathis spoke and behaved like an adult. Moradin took her in and raised her, and watched as she grew. She learned quickly in his forge, and soon she was fully grown. But she did not want to stay, and tend to the forge. She dreamed of building, not hammering and shaping. Moradin did not want her to leave, for he had grown fond of her. He asked her to show him what she would build, and to use the metal from her birthing-comet. Then, he left her in his workshop with all of his apprentices and tools.

Erathis closed and bolted all the doors, a radiant smile on her face. For 9 days and 9 nights, the sounds of work did not stop, not even for 1 minute. All the other Gods came by to see what was going on, but Moradin simply told them to wait.

On the 10th morning, Erathis opened the doors and let all the Gods in. When they beheld what she had built, the Gods all marveled. Erathis had built a model city that was so beautiful, they all knew it must come to be. Moradin built her a set of tools as fine as his, and the Gods sent Erathis out into the Astral Sea. There, she built The Great Celestial City, the largest bridge between The Astral Sea and the Material World. 

She ruled there for a while, but her need to ever-expand and change took her away from the city, so she left the Daeva as capable administrators. On the 99th year of each century, she returns to the city to oversee the Daeva’s planning for the next hundred years. For a full month, there is a festival in her honor.


The Blessed Storms of Melora

They say that back when the world was young, Corellon, the God of the Elves and the Feywild, became enchanted with the Goddess Melora, for sje was wild, unpredictable, and chaotic - all traits Corellon admired. But Melora refused to stay, and Corellon chased her across the Earth as she laughed and danced. Corellon was no stranger to travel or change, but even he could not keep up with Melora. She was too energetic, and Corellon knew she needed to release that energy constantly. So he made a gift for her – a massive release of energy and power. These were called storms, and gave them to her. Melora was delighted, and accepted the gift. From that day forward, it was said that children born during a storm were blessed by both Corellon and Melora.


Sargen No-Servant

Before Io became Bahamut and Tiamat, some say the Dragonborn served all Dragons. Some older dragons still believe this, until they meet Sargen No-Servant.

Sargen was a Dragonborn Paladin, strong and upright. He was Anointed by Bahamut, and believed it was his duty to protect all dragonkind. However, in his travels he made several non-dragonborn friends: The Human Sword-maiden Kan Ro Kan, The Eladrin Enchanter Rotharion and the Halfling Trapsmith Dregs.

Their adventures once took them to a deep dark cave, where they came upon an elder dragon by the name of Gormagon. Gormagon was so ancient that his scales had scales. 

When Gormagon saw Sargen and his friends, he said “Are you not my servant?” Sargen, always remembering his courtesies, knelt before Gormagon.

“As my faithful servant, I ask you to stand aside so I might feed on these interlopers.” Sargen stood then, drawing his axe and presenting his shield, emblazoned with the symbol of Bahamut. 

“Perhaps you did not hear me.” Said Gormagon. “Leave me to my meal.” Sargen did not move, so Gormagon tried to move past him. Wherever he went, Sargen stood in his way. Gormagon tried to bite Sargen, who stuck his shield in Gormagon’s mouth. No matter how hard the dragon but down, the shield would not buckle or bend.

“Are you deaf?” Gormagon hissed. “My servant, I command you, stand aside so that I may feed!” He widened his jaws again, this time to breathe fire onto Sargen. The heat was so intense it melted part of Gormagon’s hoard, but Sargen put up his shield, which turned all the flames aside. At this Gormagon grew fearful.

“I am not deaf,” Sargen said “And I am no servant of yours.” And his shield shone with a silver light, and he opened his mouth. Silver fire poured out, engulfing Gormagon. When Sargen was finished, nothing was left but scales and ash.

And from that day he was known as Sargen No-Servant.

shacky87: Since I asked you about what a deck based on the Torqletones, I've been trying to come up with another nerdy question. Since you've been posting a few things about Exalted on there: What would the class & race (I don't know much about exalted) for each of the past and present Torqletones be in Exalted?
magicturtle:

I think the last time someone asked me this I told them they’d all be Dawn castes because of the huge emphasis D&D places on fighting. That may have come across as jerky, so I apologize for that. That said, the concepts don’t translate well since at least one of the current members would be a dream-eating space monstrosity and another would be… half-space monstrosity? Instead how about I pitch you some Exalted Characters I think those guys would enjoy playing.

THUNDERSHARK - Dawn Caste Wrestler

Matthew

“I’M GONNA TAKE YOU DOWN SO HARD YOU’RE GOING TO REINCARNATE WITH A LIMP!”

Nobody knows the true identity of Thundershark, once the most electrifying sports-entertainer in the south’s network of illegal pit fights. He has left the ring, for no mortal opponent could hope to challenge him. Now he travels from village to village clotheslining gods and suplexing monsters.

Relevant Stats: Supernal Brawl, Brawl Specialty: Finishing Move, Influence***: Adoring Fans, 

It would be great to give Matthew a character that can make constant wrestling references without conflicting with the narrative. If you can’t beat ‘em, join them.

THE NAMELESS STRANGER - Zenith Kung Fu Cowboy

Stephen

“…” *BANG!*

Ping’s monastery, centered in an ancient oasis was attacked by a hoard of marauding zombies. In defending it he exalted into the Zenith Caste. Exaltation brought more than just power, now he has begun to “remember“ the heretical martial arts of the righteous devil. This desperado of the sands has abandoned his name and former life, and now combines fist and flamepiece to bring the guilty to justice.

Relevant Stats: Supernal Presence, Martial Artist Merit, Matched Artifact Flamepieces and nothing else because that would eat up all his merits.

If you listen to The Major Spoilers Podcast you know why this concept is perfect for Stephen.

NELLENS DII - Twilight Caste Wonderworker

Sam

“Get me a ladder, All the ribbons off your banners, and exactly six ceramic plates, I’m busting us into that keep!”

Once a siege engineer for the imperial legions, Dii’s exaltation has, to understate it drastically, put her at odds with her family. Still, Dii is a dreamer and hopes that some day she can prove to them that she is not, in fact, a horrifying sun-devil monster. Dii is the sort of character that can always craft  an item to overcome a problem (a catapult, a bomb, a boat), but frequently not in the most direct way (launch a boat full of bombs to fell a tree to change the course of a river).

Relevant Stats: Supernal Craft, Craft: Munitions, Craft: Siege Weapons, Craft: Food.

In my experience with Exalted, you really need your twilight caste to be solid on the setting, since the others tend to rely on them for knowledge. Sam’s played more games of Exalted than the rest of us, so she can pull it off. Also I want someone to play the little craft minigame.

CHIRP-WARK - Night Caste Wild Boy Raised by Raptors

Rob 

“Chirp-Wark Smell Trouble!”

A young boy was abandoned in the rainforest; but rather than perish he was adopted by a pack of clawstriders and raised as their own. Now with the mystical blessings of the Night Caste he leads his raptor family against those that imperil his jungles.

Relevant Stats: Familiar **, Familiar **, Familiar **, Survival specialty: While Surrounded by clawstriders.

Rob needs a break from talky characters, also a character that leads a battle group AND is stealthy AND can customize multiple familiars is bound to create enough sliders and levers for Rob to stay entertained.

SHARD OF ENIGMATIC CHALCEDONY - Eclipse Caste Demon Bureaucrat

Brian

“A lot of people assume I’m evil because I surround myself with demons and mercenaries… Anyway, it’s getting late, we should make camp.”

Once vizier for a powerful sorcerer, Shard saw the power of demons first hand; Overcome first with ambition, and then with the power of the Eclipse Caste, he struck out on his own! Now he has carved out a small enclave for himself protected by mercenaries, sorcerously bound demons and local spirits he’s made deals with.

Relevant Stats: Supernal Occult, Bureaucracy Specialty: Blackmail, Sorcery, Demon of the First Circle, Influence, Followers, Resources.

Somebody needs to be the influence monkey in the game, and Brian’s done well with both talky characters and alternate morality characters before. 

Flex Your Creative Muscles

totalpartythriller:

Encouraging an open and fearless roleplaying environment is pretty hard. The biggest thing I hear when players are scared of roleplaying is - “I’m just not creative”. Sadly, underlying that statement is a shitty assumption: creativity is a talent that you either have or you don’t. Sure, some people are naturally creative, but it’s not like making your tongue a w or tasting soap when you eat cilantro. Creativity ain’t some genetic fluke. Creativity is a muscle. The more you flex it, the stronger it will get.

Start small - get your players comfortable with describing things dramatically. At the start of every session, have them describe their character’s current appearance and demeanour. If there’s combat, ask them to describe their actions in combat beyond “I attack with my sword” or “I cast magic missile.” What’s their fighting style? What does their magic missile look like? What happens when a Barbarian enters his rage, or a Ventrue uses their Dominate Discipline?

Is there a detail in one of the PCs’ backstory you need more detail on? Why make it up yourself when you can ask your player about it? This is particularly good when you’re coming up with NPCs that have history with the players - it makes them feel connected.

If your players are more mechanically minded, try to play systems that mechanically reward description & roleplay - Stunt Dice in Exalted, Drama Dice in Seventh Sea, Aspects in FATE Core. If you feel like you can do it without breaking the game, you could adopt some mechanical rewards for roleplay into D&D - Critical Hit DM Rodrigo Lopez has a great set of house rules for his skill challenges.

Of course, as the DM and de facto head of your gaming group, you should really lead by example. Provide description, stay in character while Playing NPCs, and encourage your players. When they see you flexing your creative muscles, they’ll feel comfortable enough to flex theirs.