Adversaries - Designing for Scope

Fantasy stories involve a wide variety of adversaries for the main characters. I like classifying them into two distinct categories by their agency. A "foe" exerts influence on the narrative for a single scene, challenging the PC’s interests at that moment and then fading into obscurity. On the other hand, a "villain" exerts influence over the course of a particular story - often times off camera and revealed through command over lesser characters. The bog-standard dungeon crawls of yore were populated entirely by foes. I came across my first glimpse of persistent adversaries on the gaming table in “Against the Slave Lords” with the Slave Lords themselves and the “Dragonlance” modules with the infamous Dragon Highlord, Verminaard.

 

Planning for a short shelf-life

I don't like to invest my limited time into elements that don’t apply to the given conflict with the PCs. In a skill challenge or political conflict I don’t need to kit a foe out with a combat stat block - I'll just assume a normal civilian default, maybe round it up to "above average" where necessary. Along the same vein, it seems silly to include negotiating skills and political connections into the profile of an enemy design for an obligatory thug attack. He's got a few ability scores and an attitude problem, and that should be more than sufficient. To run an encounter with foes I do need understand their motivations though. I generalize them for a logical group. "Why are these foes here? What would make quit the scene?" Just those two little questions help make a group of bandits play differently than a pack of mindless zombies. It makes the goblins distinct from their pet wolves. Having every “monster” mindlessly fight to the death regardless of its particular species and intellect always made a game less immersive to me as a player.

Playing the long game

The very act of recurring an adversary creates a story just as two points define a line - so I'd better make it a good one! The tabletop RPG medium is very different from passive, static media like movies, books, and video games. The players have control over a group of characters who monopolize the point of view of the "audience." While introducing an out-of-character glimpse at a vignette can spice up my campaign, it’s much more important (and challenging) to define a villain’s identity through the experiences of the Player Characters. Much of this comes indirectly - through lackeys clearly marked by circumstances, livery, or name-dropping. Confronting PCs face-to-face is very dicey. I've got to think like a villain and have a couple of fallback plans. Some combination of an evasion ability and the good sense to retreat well before outnumbered and surrounded are called for. I try to avoid the “and he vanishes …” mechanics even if the game system does provide for them with things like “Word of Recall” or “Contingency.” They will often just provoke an arms race with PCs for counter-measures. I prefer having another identity in my back pocket for a “man behind the man” reveal if the original would-be villain falls. My main guideline is to avoid repeating the same style of move in the same story-arc. That’s a key point both for plot AND action scenarios. A wizard the casts fireballs, teleports away, and shows up in another scene casting the same fireballs is boring. A villain ought to be many things, but never boring.

Evolving a roster

I like to have a significant number of intelligent adversaries in play, so it's not uncommon to have foes break ranks and flee if the tide turns against them. In addition to spreading word of the fearsome prowess of the protagonists, it also creates a great opportunity to promote a nameless, faceless antagonist into a proper villain. Sure, goblin flunkies don't usually become mastermind plotters, but a vengeful pack of goblin survivors could develop into a plot of their own. Routed foes could also take on a more comical tone as quirky mini-bosses, destined to jump in between the players and their objectives as an obnoxious foil. Taking down an enemy that has a history with your character - someone who's stuck their thumb in your PC's eye - gives a conflict real character. I have to remind myself periodically not to be afraid of handing out a fatal demotion to my presumptive Big Bad Evil Guys either. Sometimes a villain just doesn't click with the players as a long-term element. Maybe I played him too hammy or maybe her tactics are obnoxious. Is it time for a sudden but inevitable betrayal? Does the dark lord grow so weary of these impudent worms that he will see to them personally? The villainous show will go on, even if I have to make a casting-call in the middle of the story.

Assets - Wealth

I love loot. My characters tend to turn out the corpses of every hobgoblin they come across. I bring a mule with me to battle so I can carry the chain mail of dead hobgoblins back to town and resell it. However, I'm not collecting coins so I can swim in my money bin. I love the meaning of loot. The meaning of a Magic Item is pretty clear, but what about all those currency and fungible art objects? If it's just a running tally until my character can by the latest "power up" from a designated vendor, where's the added value from the table top experience as opposed to a video game? I'm not just greedy for coin - I'm greedy for the power of the purse!

Lifestyle Expenses

“Drive sports cars, date movie stars, buy things that are not for sale... who knows, Master Wayne? You start pretending to have fun, you might even have a little by accident.” – Alfred, Batman Begins

Different tiers of lifestyles are a fact of life. Some people are waited on hand-and-foot and others are begging in the street. "Meet at the Inn," type adventurers tend to start out counting every copper and pursuing life-threatening escapades for meager bounties. Then at some point that dynamic fades out while PCs are looting dragon hordes and destroying armies of undead. The idea of ditching the rustic tavern scene for something a bit more upscale has come up in Living Greyhawk and Dungeons and Dragons, 5th Edition but it's always come across as more of a tax than a benefit to me. The number-crunching gets absurd too - an adventurer idling or retiring in style after killing a couple of dragons is untenable due to constant drain while NPC expenses are hand-waved. I replace that paradigm with the idea of a sustainable lifestyle. Peasants, merchants, and sell-swords have the assets to keep up their lifestyle, and so should PCs. If a character has a sufficient Wealth rank his or her sustainable lifestyle automatically increases.

Operating Budget

"Some assets work for money, others believe in a cause. The most effective incentive though is a combination of the two." - Michael Westen, Burn Notice

One the advantages of Wealth is that it makes it easier to generate an income. While other assets provide more concrete models for estates and businesses (and adventure hooks), Wealth levels can be squeezed for a certain baseline of income per week. The part that overruns lifestyle expenses can provide a basic weekly budget for the adventurer out on the town. This might be used to cover a few non-incidental purchases, grease the right palms, or help the struggling poor. These are the kind of expenses that are constrained by a short-term budget, but aren't relevant to carry week-to-week or episode-to-episode. Just know your limits and you shouldn't need to muss up your character sheet.

Capital Expenses

"Pay a man enough and he'll walk barefoot into Hell." - David Xanatos, Gargoyles

These are the one-time expenses I'm the most familiar with in a swords-and-sorcery RPG. You pile up a bunch of GPs and you buy something with them. Most commonly it's a "power-up" like a scroll to scribe into your spell book or a magic sword. From time-to-time it might be a pricey service like a Restoration or Regeneration spell. However, with an Assets system there's a lot more than usual to buy. Money can buy a lot of things - land, buildings, and employees are pretty common. That's the core premise of things ranging from setting up a small shop to a huge castle and sprawling demesne. You could also spread around money to cultivate things like contacts, allies, favors, glory, or even buy a political office. These all represent large, one-time outlays of cash for value you can't easily convert back into coins. In a wealth system you can liquidate one of more ranks of Wealth to finance these sorts of expenses.

Spare Change

"Laws are a tedious business and counting coppers is worse." - Robert Baratheon, A Game of Thrones

There comes a time in every successful adventurer's career where keeping track of the extra silver pieces you tipped to loosen the bartender's tongue just isn't worth it. You want to buy a couple of vials of oil for your lantern? I (the DM) don't want to waste the precious seconds of game time marking down that gold piece. (You're a 9th level Wizard, Harry - why are you even using an oil lantern in the first place?) Rather than micromanage expenses that's are out of scope for your character's assets, certain Wealth ranks provide you the benefit of just waiving these petty expenses away for the rounding errors they've become. Come to think of it, you should probably let the peasant children loot the loose coins from your couch cushions on the holidays.

Rough Tiers - Wealth by Rank

So here is my rough draft of a Wealth tier system for Byzantine Age. Prices are given in Double-Denarius, a silver coin with the equivalent purchasing power of a Gold Piece in the standard D&D setting. I suppose you could even assign a negative value in this Asset to represent squalid poverty or crushing debt of some sort if a character's situation called for it.

• Rank 0: Sustain a Modest Lifestyle indefinitely 
• Rank 1: Ignore expenses less than 1dd (1GP D&D)
• Rank 2: Budget of 10dd/wk
• Rank 3: Sustain a Comfortable Lifestyle indefinitely
• Rank 4: Ignore expanses < 10dd (10GP D&D) 
• Rank 5: Budget of 100dd/wk 
• Rank 6: Sustain a Wealthy Lifestyle indefinitely 
• Rank 7: Ignore expenses < 50dd (50GP D&D) 
• Rank 8: Budget of 500dd/wk 
• Rank 9: Sustain an Aristocratic Lifestyle indefinitely 
• Rank 10: Ignore expanses < 100dd (100GP D&D) 

Ludus Siciliae - V

In the last session, the two rangers Arturo and Vinto had destroyed the Redbrand Ruffians and captured the group's leader, Glass Staff, forcing the wizard to confess his secrets before leaving him in the custody of the noble Sildaro. On the advice of a family of small-folk farmers, they set out for the ruins of Thundertree Village to find Reedloth the wood sage and gain knowledge of the goblin hideout, Cragmaw Castle, where they hoped to rescue their employer, Gundren Rockseeker.

The two woodsmen manage to surprise the druid when they find him in Thundertree. He agrees to help them in exchange for aiding him against a green dragon who has taken up residence in these cursed ruins. He insists calling in a legion to drive off the beast would cause more harm than good, since the battles that occurred nearby during the two great invasions in the previous century have left a stain of death that lead to the undead menace that overran the village. Still, he does not expect the two men to just walk in and slay the wyrm either. Upon observing their successful attempt at purge twig blights from the area the druid suggests that, upon their oath, they should return to pay their debt after their own urgent mission - bringing allies, plans, or tools that would help evict Venomfang.

(The young green had destroyed a colony of deadly giant spiders when it seized the ruined tower, giving Reedloth some notion of just how deadly it is.)

Having so sworn the Maretia 'Brothers' successfully retrieve the reward promised by the widow they had saved from the Redbrands, a valuable gold-and-emerald pendant left behind when the village was overrun. Putting on his most enterprising merchant's demeanor, Arturo approaches the entrenched dragon cultist on the edge of town and gains access to their leader attempting to sell them the item. It does seem like a suitable offering piece, but their leader isn't willing to offer a fair price. Seeing the travelers walking away from the deal, however, the cult-leader tries a new tactic - a wager over a game of skill. He wagers a magical potion worn around his neck against the jewelry as stakes in a game of Latrunculi. Unfortunately for him, he's challenged the best player in the entire province of Sicilia (Arturo's One Unique Thing). Eventually an innocuous move turns the tables on a seemingly won game and after a lot of hemming and hawing and stalling the cultist tosses the tiny vial at Arturo and declares that his win was nothing but fool's luck before stalking back to their safe-house.

(Vinto's used his own O.U.T. a couple of times, but this was the first opportunity to introduce Roman chess into what's largely been a wilderness adventure. It seemed like a dramatically appropriate time for a hustle, and Arturo's efforts to engage the cultists got positive reinforcement.)

By now the hour has grown late. The stalling and wriggling on the hook that Arturo's opponent had done wasn't just a futile effort. The two hurried to make their way back to Reedloth's house as night fell among this damned village. They are set upon by two massive spiders emerging from their nest to hunt. It's an ugly fight in a tight ally between buildings and overgrowth as Vinto tears himself from the spiderweb bonds and Arturo lodges one of his blades into a window frame. Rather than expose himself to unnecessary risk, he draws the masterwork blade he'd looted from the Redbrand hideout. As he lashes out with it, a small voice whispers in his mind, What shall we kill today, sir? It is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. In the end, one spider is slain and the other is grievously wounded and flees. However, Vinto is on the ground and unable to move, even after receiving healing. In fact, restoring him to consciousness just makes the experience of paralysis a bit more traumatic. Arturo quickly carries his brother to Reedloth, who assures him that the effect is only temporary.

(Just a single line hinting at a personality was enough to hook Arturo's player. His descriptions of sword-work and noteworthy hits with the weapon let it assert a distinct identity. He even ascribed a later fumble to the sword's resentment over him taking a turn to heal his ally instead of skewer a foe.)

The next morning the two warriors return to the scene of the assault to recover their dropped weapons and gear. They find the spiders' nest with a corpse inside. It turns out to be be an elf, recently fallen as prey - an usually sight in the backwoods of a Roman island so far from Hyboria. In his pouch he carries a note written in elvish script they can not read. They bury the unfortunate man before heading off for Cragmaw Castle. On their second day they happen upon a band of marauding Orcs patrolling from the Wyvern Tor camp and manage to slay them in a difficult battle. In a moment of dire need, when his brother's life seems grievously imperiled, Vinto awakens an unsettling ability honing his desire to slay the attacker. His vision seizes upon a single vital spot that seems to be crying out to his hunter's senses and sets an arrow right through an orc's neck, slaying him in a single mighty blow. After the battle Arturo shows Vinto a reflection of his left eye - now staring back with the appearance more fitting a wolf than a human. After a brief rest the effects subside, but it is still awkward and disturbing - though Vinto insists it's nowhere near as odd as these one-sided conversations Arturo's begun having with his "talking" sword that no one else can hear.

(The wolf's eye effect is an alternative take on a "Magic Item" reward. Rather than adding a random +1 longbow to the treasure somewhere we've introduced an innate magical ability. It draws from Vinto's hazy background, "a wild orphan boy who was adopted by the Maretia family," and adds a sense of mystery.)

Upon arrival at their destination, the adventures discover an ancient fortification that's suffered hard years. Of Carthaginian or Phoenician construction, the castle predates Christ and Caesar by at least three centuries. All in all it's in fair shape for perhaps 8 or 9 centuries of decay. The two wilderness scouts eschew the obvious entrances of the front and rear gates and instead find a hidden path leading to a concealed hole in the walls. They manage to ambush a pair of hobgoblin guards and silence them before an alarm can be raised. In a nearby room they overhear an argument between a female humanoid and the fierce goblinoid king, discussion of a dwarf and a map, and some evidence that their employer my be inside. They storm the chambers of King Grol and launch a vicious surprise assault. Arturo manages to lash out with a cascade of blades before Grol can even reach for his weapon and shield. In the meantime Vinto's arrow-shot rips the massive bugbear's ear clean off from his head. Howling in rage, Grol unleashes his wolf and grabs his arms. The lupine companion launches itself at Arturo's chest and begins mauling him on the ground. Grol uses his shield to block Vinto's arrows and attempts to smash the human. A female elf (presumable the one debating Grol earlier) attempts to sneak over to Gungren's unconscious form with knife in hand, only to be menaced by Vinto's loyal mastiff hound. Vinto and Arturo manage to dispatch their foes quickly thereafter and capture the woman at sword-point.

Upon reviving Gundren they are warmly praised and welcomed. He tears the chamber apart until he finds his map (and a stash of treasure for the party). However, Gundren has no love for their prisoner. He knows she's the emissary of someone called the Black Spider, who is likely responsible for the disappearance of his brothers. The elf trades her life for revealing the fate of Gundren's brothers - they are in the Lost Mine, seized by the Spider himself. She advises Gundren to surrender his map and barter for his brothers' lives since all hope is lost. Vinto then shoots an arrow past her face, cutting off a piece of her hair as his way of signalling that the conversation is over. On the way out to deliver Gundren to safety, Arturo makes it a point to scold his "little" brother for discouraging enemies from monologue.