A Simple Mass Combat System

In part 2 of my four-part series on adding War to your campaign (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4), I discussed running battles on the tabletop, including how to involve your players and keep their interest. One of the points I made in that post was that, when running mass combat as part of a roleplaying game battle, it is imperative to “find a good mass combat system that works quickly, smoothly, and integrates with your game’s system.” Over the years, many different mass combat systems have been developed for different roleplaying games, especially for the most popular of them all, Dungeons and Dragons. There are plenty of good ones out there, but most of them involve some permutation of standard D&D combat, where there are individual units with attacks with attack bonuses, some version of armor class, and hit points, and you roll for attacks against each other. In the end, this boils down to some form of wargaming, with a series of rolls for individual units, and there is nothing wrong with that. In fact, I enjoy mass combat systems like that. Part of that, however, is because of the type of person and player I am; my wife and I both enjoy playing wargames, so a system where combat is similar to baseline D&D mechanics for individual units isn’t very bothersome.

On the other hand, running different units is essentially running multiple more NPCs in a combat system that can already stretch on and bog down when there are many participants. With higher-level players (and suitably higher-level challenges), adding units to a mass combat where they all maneuver individually and make their own attacks can double the amount of time the battle or session is supposed to take. If you have a three-hour battle session planned, this can spiral out of control into a six-hour session if you’re not careful. Again, maybe that’s fine and maybe you and your players will love that. Not everyone will, however.

With that in mind, I set out to create a mass combat system that could be resolved in a single contested roll, plus some quick math, each turn, while still retaining some individual attributes for units to make armies feel unique and interesting based on the types of troops they have. To my knowledge, there aren’t many (or any) single-roll mass combat systems for Dungeons and Dragons that don’t oversimplify combat to a meaningless level or wipe out the difference in troop types. The difficulty with trying to make a system that is both simple and detailed is that often the two things are mutually exclusive in gaming, particularly when it comes to simulating battles. For example, I love the mass combat system in Fantasy Flight Games’ Star Wars RPG system, and it fits perfectly for that kind of roleplaying game and the system they have built. A single roll each turn, with some modifiers based on what is going on or types of troops, decides what happens with the mass combat each turn. There are tables to reference using the narrative system to help interpret the results. However, I’ve had to house rule and modify it a bit to give the level of detail that makes things interesting when large numbers of troops of differing qualities and equipment smash against each other.

I started with a simple contested D20 roll: the GM would roll for the enemy army, while a player would roll for the allied army. This would occur each turn, at an easily-definable point. Most similar things in D&D occur on Initiative Count 20, so I went with that, specifically after all other Initiative Count 20 events occurred. There also had to be modifiers for each army which would represent the different training, expertise, and equipment the armies brought to the battlefield, I wanted leaders to have an impact, and there needed to be some sort of hit point system that could help define who was winning and losing. I sat down and banged out some quick outlines for how I wanted combat to work, and then created some sample units with which I could run quick playtests. The rules went through three permutations until I was satisfied that the rules worked, made sense, and could last a session.

One important decision I made very early on was that I wanted both ranged and melee fighting to have a chance to shine, so things like the peerless archery of Wood Elves or the staunch melee defenses of Dwarves could stand out, while their comparative weakness in other areas could also be pointed out and exploited. I also did not want to make anything require more than one contested roll per turn. My solution to this was to have combat alternate each turn between a Ranged fight and a Melee fight. On the first turn, the armies would trade Ranged blows, while on the second turn, it would swap to Melee, and so on and so forth until the end of the encounter. The system is flexible enough, however, so that if DMs and players wanted to have Melee and Ranged occur every round and do two rolls, they could easily do so.

I next decided that armies would be built of units. Units combine their statistics together to create the army’s statistics, allowing for the combined arms approach where one type of unit, such as archers, could complement for another type of unit, such as knights, each unit covering the statistical weaknesses of the other. I gave each unit six statistics: Ranged Attack, Ranged Defense, Melee Attack, Melee Defense, Morale, and Strength. The Ranged and Melee stats are the modifiers that the armies apply in the appropriate Ranged and Melee rounds, and satisfy my requirement that different types of units can stand out based on their experience. The Attack and Defense versions of those stats are not, in fact, a sort of “Attack/Armor Class” or any kind of comparative stat. Instead, they represent tactics which the army chooses to adopt. If an army fights defensively, such as defending a castle or forming up on a hill and allowing the enemy come to them, that is represented by that army using the Defense version of their stat in the Melee and Ranged rounds. If an army decides to fight offensively, such as besieging a castle or taking the fight to the enemy by charging, they will use the Attack version of their stats. For example, Dwarves are usually renowned for defensive fighting, but heavy armor and bulky weapons do not normally translate well to attacking. I therefore gave Dwarven units higher Defense stats and lower Attack stats. Orcs, on the other hand, are aggressive creatures who are not disposed to standing around waiting for the enemy, so they have higher Attack stats and lower Defense stats. Morale is a catch-all stat encompassing, yes, the Morale of the unit, but also its armor, general toughness, resilience, etc. It is, essentially, the staying power or the resistance of the unit to damage, both physical damage and damage to the psyche of the unit from casualties. Morale reduces the damage that a unit or army will take. Of note, I decided Morale would be an average across the army, not a sum like the other stats, in order to allow casualties to still occur. Finally, Strength is the health of the unit, its Hit Points. Losing these do not affect any of the other stats, but represent the ability of the army to keep fighting. If Strength hits zero, that army has been defeated. It does not necessarily mean every soldier is dead, but instead that the army has lost the battle. It could mean that the army is wiped out, but just as easily that the army’s morale as broken and they have fled, or that the general has decided to retreat.

The resolution of mass combat each turn is a simple affair. The army building should occur prior to the session, giving both the DM and the players their starting army statistics at the beginning of the session. Each turn, a contested D20 roll occurs, and each side adds the appropriate statistic (Melee Attack, Melee Defense, Ranged Attack, or Ranged Defense) to give them their mass combat Score. The two sides compare their Scores to determine which side has won and lost the mass combat that round. The resulting Difference is the base “damage” that will be dealt to the loser’s Strength. Morale reduces this damage, and the resulting final Difference is how much the loser’s Strength is reduced by. And…that’s it. A single roll, some quick math, a single note of bookkeeping, and the mass combat is decided for the round. The DM can then narratively describe the results of the mass combat to the players, and then everyone can move on to the main event: whatever the players are actually doing.

You can find my Simple Mass Combat rules here, on the Dungeon Master’s Guild. They are Pay What You Want, so feel free to download them for free and try them out. Drop a review or a rating, I’d love to hear your feedback. Also, these rules are easily transferable to any other roleplaying system, not just a D20 or fantasy system. It is very easy to create your own units, so you could quickly draw up some science fiction or modern units and still use the same statistics and rules to resolve your battles.

As always, good luck and happy gaming.


Unique Rewards for Players

I have said many times on this blog that I believe players’ satisfaction at the table should be the primary goal of any Game Master/Dungeon Master. After all, we are simply the facilitator for a group of our friends, and ultimately are the minority, sometimes greatly so in large groups. I’ve spoken before on different ways to focus on your players, and today I’m going to add another one to the list in my never-ending quest to help anyone who may be looking for inspiration or guidance in running their roleplaying game campaigns.

People who Game Master or Dungeon Master do so for many reasons, but one common theme is that we like to create. Whether it’s worldbuilding, designing monsters, making custom classes, creating magical items, or thinking up interesting NPCs and villains, we like the process of coming up with something and sharing it with our friends and players for them to enjoy. Our creations will often serve the advancement of the plot and the fleshing out of the story, but there is an easy way to direct those creative energies towards making your players feel special: coming up with unique rewards for them in your campaign.

Many of the most roleplaying games are chock full of rules covering all manner of different things, and have been extensively playtested to ensure everything is generally balanced against each other and that everything is fun to play. After all, nobody will want to play a wizard if sorcerers are obviously and continuously proven to be more powerful spellcasters in every way. Roleplaying games should absolutely be designed that way for those reasons, but it sometimes leaves little room for players to feel like their character is truly unique. They know that, somewhere out there, someone else is basically playing the exact same half-orc battlemaster fighter with a sword and shield wearing plate armor. Sure, backstory and roleplaying may be different, but mechanics-wise, everything they can do is found in a book where any other person can do the exact same thing, and probably has.

So, I advocate that you make a determined effort to think of things to give your players that will make their characters feel special, like they are the only character anywhere in the world that can do something or has something. The easiest way to do this, and the one you can do most often (sometimes repeatedly) is with items. Plenty of GMs/DMs, myself included, will roll on random loot tables occasionally to provide some spice and excitement to the end of encounters, and there is nothing wrong with that. Likewise, many will dream up magic items to pepper throughout their world for the players to find, and that is good and fun as well; it makes the world feel lived in, like it has an organic history. A lot of created items, however, are built from a worldbuilding perspective. For example, “This ancient elven king had a super-powerful blade which was fine-tuned for killing dragons,” and so you make a powerful dragon-slaying sword of elven design. I suggest that instead of focusing on worldbuilding first, focus on player first.

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Players will carve out a niche for themselves, mechanically-speaking, within the party fairly early on, sometimes in the first session. They may choose to be a ranged combat specialist, or focus on healing, or focus on supporting their allies with buffs. Identify those things that players deem are most important to them mechanically and start creating magic items with those in mind. If a player builds an archery ranger who enjoys striking from the shadows, design a magical bow that has an increased chance to score a critical hit if the player is hidden when they use it. If a player creates a combat medic, you could come up with a set of advanced medical diagnostic devices which grant them bonuses when they perform medicine checks on other players. Once you’ve designed the items, ensure that the players gain access to them relatively easily. Don’t lock them behind high prices or secret puzzles that the players may choose or fail to pursue. You want the players to get these items, so make sure they can. The most important thing about all of this is to make the item; don’t look through the rulebook and find one that you think is appropriate. You want the players to also know that this item is new, not in the book, something that essentially was made for their character. Other people in the game world might have it, but knowing that no one else’s home game in the real world has this item has a certain special quality to it. With items, I suggest you give out several over the course of a campaign, so that players can end up with gear that they actually want and that they feel is special.

A second way which I would say is far more impactful, but of a more limited number of uses, is to grant a player’s character a unique ability that you have designed specifically for them. In most roleplaying games, characters are set apart from each other by their abilities granted by their class, if there are classes in the game, or the abilities the players choose. While players often enjoy customizing their character when they are given the chance to do so with free-form character construction in games like Fantasy Flight Games’ Star Wars RPG, or with Feats in Dungeons and Dragons or Pathfinder, they are still necessarily restricted by the rules to a locked set of choices. Creating a custom ability for a player can provide not only the feeling of being special for having something no one else has, but also excitement about being able to do something that is not available anywhere in the rules as written. I cannot recommend this type of unique reward strongly enough.

It is important to put lots of thought into the unique abilities you create for your players; it can be a complicated process. Of course, each player in the game must get one at some point if you give one to one player. They need not be given at the same time, but do not give one to one player at level three and then wait until level fifteen to give one to another player, or the last player. Just as important as making a player feel special is ensuring that no player feels left out. When you go about making the abilities, ensure that none will completely overshadow any of the others. They don’t need to be as finely balanced as the base rules, but again, do not give one player an amazing ability and leave the others with merely middling ones. When the time comes to begin creating the abilities, take into consideration the same concepts as when creating unique magical items for them. Think about what the player has made their focus or role within the party and try to enhance or complement that role.

We can look at the two examples above, the archer-focused ranger and the combat medic, and think about what abilities we may give them. The ranger has decided that they like to attack from cover, and received the magical bow that crits on a 19 or 20 when they attack while hidden. So, how can we play to that playstyle? We should help the ranger get into a hidden position, and then provide an increase to the chance to roll that 19 or 20 when attacking from hidden. The ability could read something like this: “You have made a concerted effort to take advantage of any distraction on the battlefield to slip into hiding and line up the perfect shot. You gain advantage on Stealth rolls while in combat. While making a ranged attack while hidden, you gain advantage on the attack roll.” We take something that the player has been doing throughout the entire campaign, trying to get into stealth and then attacking, even if just for flavor, and reward them for it with a unique ability. Likewise with the player who has been playing a combat medic. If using Fantasy Flight Games’ Star Wars or Genesys rules, we can give them an ability which reads as such: “You have become a master of calming your hands while you work in dangerous situations where another’s life literally rests in your hands. You may decrease the difficulty of any Medicine check you make in structured time. When making a Medicine check in structured time, you may spend three Advantages to also cure a Critical Injury or cure an additional Critical Injury, rather than a Triumph as normal.” Again, we make the player feel special, like they are becoming an unparalleled master at what they have chosen to focus on, and reward them for their playstyle.

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I will leave you with some thoughts on balance. Roleplaying games, like most other forms of tabletop gaming, are playtested early and often in order to ensure they are balanced. When creating custom rewards for your players, you do not have the time or resources to playtest the items, abilities, or other things you plan on giving your players. You will try to make something fair and balanced while you’re making it. Despite your best efforts and intentions, you may find that something you give them is either underwhelming or far too powerful when compared to the game you’re running or the other players in the party. This is not a failure of you as a GM/DM, but it also should not remain the way it is. There are three ways you can go about solving this problem. The first is to speak with the player out-of-game and discuss a way to either boost or nerf the ability or item in question; they may feel the same way, or they may have a different opinion which can inform your future action on the matter. If they agree, you two can work on a new version of the ability together, and then have it ready in time for the next session. The second option is to address the other players’ abilities and items, improving them or nerfing them as appropriate given the issue with the one player’s ability. In all circumstances, I advocate boosting everyone’s to meet one player’s powerful item or ability rather than nerfing everyone’s. Last, you could adjust the game you’re running on the GM/DM side. For example, if you give everyone powerful abilities and your players are running through every combat encounter you put up against them, increase the difficulty of the combat encounters, with more or tougher enemies. It will require constantly tweaking and adjustments, but I find I am always doing that anyways in my roleplaying campaigns, so about par for the course. At the end of the day, the most important thing is that your players are having fun, and better for them to feel a bit overpowered than for them to feel like they are constantly struggling.

I hope this article provided some good thoughts for how you can improve your game and give your players some exciting new items or abilities. If you want more content, you can follow me on Instagram and check out my stuff on the DM’s Guild.

As always, good luck and happy gaming!

New 5E Class – Shugenja

About a week ago, I wrote a blog post about some custom Fighter Archetypes I had developed for use in my homebrew campaign setting, specifically in the land of Teikoku. As I continue to expand that nation, I will continue to release content for it. My most recent addition is a full-fledged custom class, the Shugenja.

The Shugenja is a divine spell-caster, and serves as the priest of Teikoku’s religion, based around worship of the kami, or divine spirits which they believe inhabit every aspect of the world around us. The idea of kami has its root in the Shinto religion, the ethnic religion of Japan. Kami are believed to be the spirits of everything in the natural world and beyond, from rocks and trees to thunder strikes and raindrops, from the fire of a torch or a blowing wind to an animal’s soul and the spirit of an ancestor; all things have kami spirits. For creating the class, I focused on the idea of kami being divided into the four basic elements that make up the universe: air, earth, fire, and water. Many things in ancient cultures believed these four elements were fundamental forces in nature, and Dungeons and Dragons has always held such. It made sense to me that when worshiping the kami, the people of Teikoku would divide them into elemental categories.

I initially set out to make the Shugenja a Cleric Domain, a simple subclass, but as I continued to work on it and think about Shugenja’s place in Teikoku, I realized that the Shugenja of different clans would be as different as I had made their Samurai. While I still proceeded with them as a single Domain, the idea that clans would be different continued to tug at me until I decided to make an entirely new class. The clans would be subclasses, titled Schools as they instructed the Shugenja of the clan in their own way. The Shugenja would not only pick a School to hail from, though, they would also pick to devote themselves to a single group of elemental Kami at 1st level. This would be the Shugenja’s form of picking a god to worship, with the added twist that picking an element would lock the Shugenja out of its opposing element: water and fire or earth and air.

As a caster class, one of the first steps was to think about the spell list for the class. Since they were initially a Cleric derivative, and since they served as the priests for Teikoku, the Cleric spell list was a good starting point. However, two main factors pushed me to expand it: first, most of the “elemental” or “nature” spells fell within the Druid spell list, and second, my ideas for elemental devotion to the Kami would necessarily cut down the spell list by approximately 25%. So, I went into the Druid spell list and pulled about half of the spells from there to put into the Shugenja spell list. The overall spell list is therefore larger than either the Cleric or the Druid spell lists, but the number of spells most Shugenja will have access to is 25% less than that, and the devotion mechanic further cuts down what is feasible to prepare with another feature: if the Shugenja takes at least 50% of their spells from the elemental list of the element they are devoted to, they gain a 1d4 increase to their maximum hit points. This bonus also scales every 4 levels, providing an incentive for the Shugenja to try to stay within their elemental discipline, while also limiting the spell list even further.

The second step was to come up with a major class feature that really drove home the role of the Shugenja as a conduit between mortals and the Kami. That came easily as the Summon Kami ability. At 2nd level, the Shugenja gained the ability to summon a Kami forth into the mortal world to request something of them. At first, it is merely the ability to ask the Kami questions, with guidelines given to the DM about how those interactions will go based on the attitude of the player and their elemental alignment compared to the Kami’s. As they increase in level, however, they gain additional abilities, namely the ability to change the damage type of one of their prepared spells, and the ability to summon a powerful Kami in the form of an elemental to fight with them. I felt this ability, available to all Shugenja, was flavorful and useful regardless of school.

With those taken care of, it was time to focus on the Schools. I had already determined what each Clan was known and responsible for, so now I merely needed to come up with Shugenja roles that would fit in neatly with those Clans’ identities. The first one I did was the Turtle Clan, as that was the clearest in my mind. As the Turtle Clan was responsible for fighting oni and undead, their Shugenja would be geared towards that role. I also decided that as extra flavor, the Shugenja would be tasked with hunting down those magic users who tried to consort with Oni, and therefore named them Inquisitors. While most of their abilities deal with making life difficult for fiends and undead and making them more able to deal massive damage to them, the fluff of them being Inquisitors is fun to me.

Next came the Bear Clan. As the standing army of Teikoku, the Bear Clan Shugenja needed to be able to hold their own on the front lines. History and lineage would likely be important to such a warrior culture, and so I made the Bear Clan Shugenja focus on ancestor worship. He is able to fight at the front with the best Samurai, wearing heavy armor and gaining the ability to lock down areas with an increased reach, but his most powerful ability comes when he calls upon an ancestor to possess him.

The Fox Clan was relatively easy to consider. The Foxes are the clever, cunning spies and informants of Teikoku, and so illusion magic, and the ability to counter those using it, seemed like the perfect niche for their Shugenja to fill. Fox Clan Shugenja gain the ability to ritual cast Disguise Self, and can see through any illusion or invisibility as they grow more powerful. Eventually, they get a form of magical sneak attack, able to deal massive damage when they attack from cover.

The Lion Clan was the fourth I worked on, and was somewhat challenging. As the head priests among a class full of priests, I struggled to think of what made them different than the others. Ultimately I decided that, as the religious heads in Teikoku, they would see less of a divide among the different elemental Kami than most, and would strive to revere all equally. Once that was figured out, the abilities fell into place. They suffer fewer restrictions to spell selection than other types of Shugenja, and gain the ability to use their Summon Kami ability as an action, rather than as a 1 minute casting time. At the end I was left with a School that I felt truly represented the head priests of the country.

Finally, the Owl Clan. I had the most difficulty with them, as I was not sure what I wanted them to be able to do, or what their role would be. The Owl Clan serves as the diplomats and bodyguards for the Imperial family, and the bodyguard role seemed to be well-covered by their Samurai class. I initially thought to go the route of diplomat or courtier, but could not come up with any abilities I was happy with. I ended up deciding that there was nothing preventing me from making the Owl Shugenja also specialize in protection, and so the Owl Clan Warden was born. They gain bonuses to initiative to help get the drop on enemies, and can absorb hostile spells directed at them or their charges. Most impressively, however, they can use reactions to prevent allies from falling unconscious or dying, making them excellent frontline medic characters.

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If these classes sound interesting to you, you can download them off of the Dungeon Master’s Guild. While there you can also check out the Samurai Clan Fighter Archetypes if you missed them and want to try them out in your games. Please leave a rating or a review, I’d love to hear what you think of them and how they are used in your game.

As always, good luck and happy gaming!

Miss Scarlet, Candlestick, Dining Room (or Running Mystery Adventures)

Everyone likes a good mystery. Whether it’s a murderer that needs catching, a traitor who needs exposing, or an underground cult that needs stopping, mysteries are irresistible for most people. The tension and drama that comes with investigating a case, and the feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment that comes with solving one, are lures that draw people to mysteries and thrillers. People enjoy solving cases, knowing that they outsmarted the villain or the puzzle. People love to boast about how they “figured it out before the big reveal” when they go and see a thriller movie or watch a crime TV show. It is understandable, therefore, that people want to replicate that experience in a roleplaying game, where the players are literally the ones making the decisions in the investigation to uncover the truth of whatever mystery is afoot. However, mystery and investigation adventures are some of the most-often mishandled adventures in roleplaying games, and can often lead to frustration, resentment, and resignation at the gaming table. How do we can avoid this as Dungeon Masters and Game Masters is the subject of today’s discussion. As a disclaimer, before we get started, I am not referring to grand mysteries which unfold over many sessions, as those are stock and trade of campaigns; I am going to cover mysteries which cover one, two, or three sessions and are focused around a specific event such as a murder, a traitor among the group, et cetera.

I have run mystery and/or investigation adventures across several different roleplaying game systems, including Age of Rebellion (FFG Star Wars), Dungeons and Dragons, and Dark Heresy. Most have been successful, but those successful ones were aided by things I learned and feedback I solicited from the unsuccessful adventures. When I say unsuccessful, I mean that I either had to strongly suggest a course of action to the players because they got stumped, or the players were visibly or verbally annoyed or off-put by the way the investigation was proceeding and felt that it was either too difficult, or they had been railroaded into having to use certain clues to reach a certain conclusion. I believe that across all mystery adventures, the former is more common: players will get frustrated and disinterested if the mystery is too hard, and most of this has to do with the dungeon master. That’s right, a lot of it is your fault, not your players.

Why is this the case? It certainly doesn’t come from any malicious intent. In fact, it usually comes from the opposite. DMs want to provide a challenging yet fun experience for their players. The ultimate goal of everyone at the table is to have a good time, and the DM is responsible for facilitating that. Throwing a group of four goblins at a 5th-level party of four players is not a fun combat encounter; the challenge is far below the players’ threshold, and it will leave them scratching their heads, yawning, and wondering why you’re wasting their time with such an easy encounter. When it comes to mysteries, DMs likewise don’t want their players to feel bored or like it was too easy. If they can figure it out without expending much effort, then what was the point? This is a pitfall which leads many DMs (and adventure writers) into making a mystery far too hard, even for a group of people putting their heads together and trying to solve it. A major contributing factor to this is that we have a skewed sense of what the players will think to ask and pursue in the course of the investigation.

Since we, the DMs and writers, are the ones planning the adventure, we have all of the answers. We already know who did it, how they did it, when they did it, and why they did it. We know how the perpetrator covered their tracks, and what clues will lead to them. When we try to take a step back and think about it, it is tempting to think that the solution is obvious, too obvious in fact. So then we go back and make it even harder to figure out the necessary clues, worried that the players will breeze through the adventure and solve the case after an hour, and be left feeling bored and unsatisfied. Sometimes this occurs several times, until the players are left with an unsolvable labyrinth of dead end clues and plot twists.

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So how can we avoid this? Firstly, give the players a good place to start. Often, the players will be given the investigation quest by an NPC, they won’t just decide to investigate on their own. While it may be tempting to have that NPC say, “start anywhere you want,” for smooth sailing, I highly recommend that the NPC suggest a place to the players for them to start. It could be a crime scene, a piece of evidence, or an eyewitness, but it should be something that is guaranteed to give them at least one clue, possibly more. Having a starting point does two things for your players. It gives them an initial sense of direction, rather than dropping them into unfamiliar territory and saying, “figure it out.” Also, it provides them with an early win; since we have guaranteed that they will receive at least one clue from this starting point, it gives the players a sense of accomplishment that they are chipping away at the mystery, and confidence that they can solve the case.

As the adventure goes on, multiple different people, locations, and items should and will come up through investigation and conversation. You do not need to gift any of these things to players, in fact I encourage you to lock many of them behind skill checks such as social checks when talking to NPCs or search checks to find a piece of evidence. However, every person, place, or thing that comes up during the course of the investigation should somehow advance the adventure. One of the most frustrating things for a player is to spend time pursuing a lead in a mystery adventure only to find out that it is a dead end. It is extremely frustrating if that occurs over and over. I know from personal experience in running the much-lauded adventure “Against the Cult of the Reptile God.” The adventure is well-reviewed and, to be honest, I am a fan of the plot and the amount of information that the booklet gives to the Dungeon Master. Some great things can happen in that adventure, but, on the flip side, there are a ton of dead ends. There are many locations in the village which provide little to no useful information to the players when visiting them, and many which provide useful information only if specific circumstances are met. When I ran ATCOTRG, my players chose five or six locations in a row that had no useful information for them, and I could see them grow visibly frustrated at the table as they struggled with what to do and their lack of progress.

An excellent example of an adventure in which every location or person mentioned has a clue or plot advancement to give the players is “Edge of Darkness,” the starting adventure for the Dark Heresy roleplaying game. I ran this adventure, which is essentially a murder mystery, earlier this week and was blown away by how well it was structured. There are 11 locations and numerous NPCs listed, and all of them are interconnected with the investigation in one way or another. Often, locations and NPCs have multiple clues to give, which will bear fruit at some point even if not immediately. For example, the dead man’s sister can give up the information about her brother’s favorite watering hole where he went that night, and the name of closest friend who has been avoiding her since the disappearance. Finding the friend can be difficult, but visiting the bar can assist in that regard, ensuring that a visit to the bar isn’t pointless even though no one at the bar knows anything about the man’s disappearance.

Making every NPC or location have some piece of information to offer ensures that the players will always have forward momentum, even if that momentum is a bit slow or tangential (such as simply helping to find another NPC who may have information). I am not saying to award players information without work, though. If the players can just go to a location or meet an NPC and get the clues they need without challenge, then we revert to the initial problem we were trying to avoid when we started: the mystery being too easy. Players should still need to make skill checks and ask the right questions of NPCs in order to be rewarded with the clues they seek. If they fail at these skill checks, then they will lose access to that particular piece of information, possibly permanently from that source. This has the possibility of causing another problem: the players hitting a dead end because of a failed skill check.

A failed skill check blocking forward progress in an adventure or campaign is a common problem which DMs and GMs struggle with constantly. Some systems have built-in mechanics which allow players to “fail forward,” but in others, success or failure is clear-cut, and this can lead to frustrations. My solution for this in mystery adventures is to ensure that there are always multiple ways for the players to either get the information they need to solve the mystery, or that there are multiple ways to solve the mystery with the correct conclusion. For example, if the murderer was an elf, you could have three different clues which point to him being an elf: a witness could have seen an elf commit the murder, the murder weapon could be a type of blade which is known to only be used by elves, and a pamphlet was found at the scene of the crime proclaiming elves to be superior to any other race. In Edge of Darkness, the local Alms House is the headquarters of the cult behind the murder; the players can be directed to the Alms House by the dead man’s drinking buddy who saw him enter the building before never being seen again, by the leader of the local police (who have been bought off by the cult) who in a fit of guilt will warn the players to steer clear of the Alms House, or from a local gang leader who sees the cult as competition for illicit business and wants the players to remove the problem for him. Each of the clues requires a skill check or skillful questioning by the players to be discovered, but redundancy in either the clue itself or the method of delivery ensures that even if your players fail a skill check and get locked out of one avenue, there are other ways for them to access the information needed to solve the case.

Mystery and investigation adventures can be some of the most fun experiences your players have, providing them with a sense of accomplishment and cleverness difficult to replicate with other adventures. However, because they are less common and more thought-provoking than normal adventures, they can be challenging to plan and run. By providing your players with a good starting point, making every person or place they visit and interact with have something of value to them if they pass a skill check or ask the right questions, and ensuring that the players have multiple avenues to access information and get to the solution, you can give your players a memorable investigative experience. Edge of Darkness was a huge hit with my group. It challenged them by making them ask the right questions and make the right skill checks, but there were many options available to them which they never visited. They solved the mystery and “won” the adventure, but it was very reassuring to me that had they not taken the route they had taken, there were still many options for them to reach the same conclusion. I challenge you to strive for the same redundancy and possibilities in your own adventures.

Good luck, and happy gaming!

*Edge of Darkness is a free adventure from Fantasy Flight Games, and you can download it here. It’s worth a read, even if you don’t play Dark Heresy, just to really appreciate the skill of adventure construction for an investigation module.

**As always, follow me on Instagram for more gaming goodness. Also, check out my D&D content on Dungeon Master’s Guild!

Samurai Clans – Fighter Archetypes

Since I was a kid, the Samurai culture has always intrigued me, as I’m sure it has many of you reading this. A warrior culture, bound by a code of honor, is a classic, idealistic trope that has permeated our modern psyche in many ways and permutations. We see the Samurai themselves presented in many forms of media, and Samurai-inspired cultures crop up in fantasy and science fiction on a regular basis. There is something about them, something I can’t quite put my finger on, that makes them fascinating. Perhaps it is that code of honor, bushido. Perhaps it is how they were expected to be more than just warriors, but poets and courtiers as well. Perhaps it was their elite status as warriors, akin to the knights of Europe but with their own twists on armor, and their legendary katanas.

Samurai concept artwork

Whatever the reason, Samurai have a special corner of my brain sectioned off for them, and my interest in them extends to the world of roleplaying as well. The world of Rokugan, setting of the Legend of the Five Rings card game and roleplaying game, is a tremendously well-developed world, full of rich culture, deep backstory, and labyrinthine politics. I’ve run a two-session one-shot, participating in the L5R Fifth Edition playtest, and I had a blast with the mechanics, but sometimes starting an entirely new campaign, or asking players to learn an entirely new game system for a night of a one shot, can be a bit much to ask. Sometimes it is easier to take inspiration from other game settings and things you enjoy, and figure out a way to bring them into your own homebrew campaign setting for the enjoyment of you and your friends.

In my campaign setting, there has always been a land inspired by fantasy Japan. Teikoku, or “the Eastern Empire” as referred to by the ignorant and haughty western lands, is a place I built up in my Dungeons and Dragons 5th Edition homebrew setting, heavily inspired by Japanese culture, Japanese folklore and mythology, and applying fantasy tropes and elements to it. However, I had never built up any of the specific Samurai families or what their purposes were, mainly focusing on the history of the nation and the external politics, how Teikoku interacted with the rest of my world. More recently, I wanted to bring the type of politics and ideas that fictional worlds like Rokugan conjured up in my head and make them fit within the geography, politics, and supernatural elements of my homebrew world. Mainly, that meant fleshing out the major Samurai families of Teikoku.Related image

I decided that there would be five major clans serving the Emperor of Teikoku, all taking an animal of significance as the central feature of their clan Mon, or heraldic symbol: the Bear Clan, Fox Clan, Lion Clan, Owl Clan, and Turtle Clan. The Bear Clan, with the bear representing strength and ferocity, would be the main military force of Teikoku, providing the bulk of the Imperial army and its lead strategists. The Fox Clan, foxes representing trickery, would serve as the Imperial spies and ninjas, operating outside the bounds of Bushido and accepting the dishonorable reputation that comes with it, but doing so for the good of the Emperor and the Empire. The Lion Clan, lions representing protection and devotion, serve as the clerics and and religious heads of the Empire, operating the various shrines and performing religious ceremonies. The Owl Clan, with the owl representing wisdom, knowledge, and good fortune, are Teikoku’s diplomats, the most widely-traveled of the clans and famous for their silver tongues and manipulation of the political wind of the Empire. Finally, the Turtle Clan, turtles serving as a representation of resilience and longevity, protect the shores of the Empire and, in particular, serve as the experts at killing and first line of defense against the horrible creatures sent forth by the foul sorcerers of the Empire of Maga Khan across the sea to the east.

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Starting with those central roles of each of the five clans, I then started building subclasses, focusing on the actual samurai serving each of the clans. I decided they would all be Fighter Archetypes. I wanted each to be distinct and really have the flavor stand out of what the clan’s purpose is. Wizards of the Coast published a Samurai archetype in Xanathar’s Guide to Everything, but it is too narrow and generic to work with a nation where the Samurai families each have such different focuses. I developed the five archetypes, then tested and sent them out, asking for feedback, refining them and balancing them where I could. I focused on a specific theme or mechanical crux on which to set the archetype. The Bear Clan Striker becomes a combat beast, able to deal maximum damage and attack extra times each turn as they gain levels. The Fox Clan Deceiver is able to feint and trick their enemies, and turn feigned weakness into strength, able to turn the tables in a battle just when the enemy thinks they have the upper hand. The Lion Clan Keeper is a blessed defender of holy places, with a special penchant for dealing with unworthy creatures such as spirits, undead, fey, aberrations, and fiends. The Owl Clan Yojimbo is an unparalleled one-on-one duelist and bodyguard, able to lock down a single powerful enemy as well as protect those around them. Finally, the Turtle Clan Stalwart is specialized to fight against large monsters and hold the line when all else have fallen or fled.

There is still more to build out in Teikoku, and I’ve written up versions of the Shugenja (elementalist clerics who call upon the kami, or spirits, of the world) and Wu-jen (powerful wizards who seek to increase and improve specific spells through study). which I will be posting in the future. If these archetypes have piqued your interest and you want to use them in your own homebrew, feel free! You can download them from the Dungeon Master’s Guild. It’s pay what you want, so pay if you want to, or download for free to test out and leave any comments, critiques, or constructive criticism, I’ll appreciate it all! You can also follow me on Instagram for regular updates.

As always, happy gaming.

Travel Inspiration

As some of you may have seen on my Instagram , my wife and I recently took a 10-day trip to England and Scotland. We both love traveling and history, and take a trip each year to a different country where we spend a lot of our time exploring historical sites and museums. We spend plenty of time doing more modern things (theater, nightlife, restaurants, etc), but for me, the highlights have always been things to do with the history of the place we are visiting. Part of the reason for that is my love of history, but part of it is because of the inspiration that history and historical places give me. So today I’m going to highlight a few things we did or places we visited that really got my creative juices flowing, and maybe they will kickstart some inspiration of your own. As a heads up, most of this will concern Dungeons and Dragons, since the inspiration was mainly of a fantastical nature.

The first place we visited on our trip was London. A trip to London isn’t complete without a visit to the fantastic British Museum. The Museum is enormous, with beautiful architecture, and has been in operation since 1753, making it older than the United States, which blew my mind. We spent a full afternoon at the museum, from lunch until close, and we saw maybe 1/4 or at most 1/3 of everything in the place; even then, we were speeding up at the end to try to cover more ground, and did not peruse with the detail we had in the first exhibits. We moved through the Ancient Egypt, Ancient Greece and Rome, Chinese, Indian, and Japanese exhibits, and they all had interesting artifacts and stories to tell. From the moment we walked into the Egyptian section, my brain got rolling. In my homebrew Dungeons and Dragons world, I have a Roman Empire equivalent, the Vaaryan Empire, an empire 1000 years in the past which was able to conquer vast swathes of territory based on their organizational and engineering acumen (as well as advanced magic far beyond anyone else, since this is D&D), but eventually waned and collapsed due to overextension, aggressive younger nations, corruption, and internal strife. Wandering through the beautiful sarcophagi and incredibly well-preserved tomb doorways of the ancient Egyptians, however, I was struck with an idea for an Egyptian analog in the vast desert area of my campaign world which would rise and fall in a similar timeline to the Vaaryans.


It worked out well since I had left the desert area untouched by the Vaaryan Empire during the timeline of their expansion, due to the difficulty of desert living for a more temperate people. As I continued to look through the exhibits, I started to formulate basic ideas for what these people were like. What type of god did they worship? In the desert, water would be the most important thing, but would be rare in the form of rainfall and only abundant at the single powerful river and large oasis lake. I decided they would likely worship a god of water as life-giver and supreme power, but one who was fickle and sometimes capricious, as well as dangerous in the form of thunderstorms. These people would likely be overt in their celebration of this god in an effort to appease him constantly and thus both gain his favor and avoid his wrath. For a people like that, building massive structures like pyramids in the desert made little sense, but along the river, or at an oasis, would grant them a shorter path to the afterlife with their supreme god, and so I decided on any sort of monolithic tombs being built right along the river or around oases.


The rich mythology of the Egyptians, as well as their propensity for laying curses and protective spells around areas of importance and tombs formed an idea of my nascent desert civilization in my head regarding their magic use: it would be of a darker nature than the Vaaryans, who were primarily involved in divination, transmutation, and abjuration magic. I believe my desert-dwellers would seek to use necromancy to protect their tombs as well as aid in their search for immortality, conjuration to likewise aid in protection and deal with issues like droughts, and, of course, enchantment to ward sacred areas and tombs. Enchantment would be their greatest school of magic and the height of their power. The exploration in my mind of the types of schools of magic that were prominent among these people made me realize that I have done this with several civilizations in my world, making magic as much a cultural aspect as music, food, or history. The Vaaryans were masters of divination magic, seeking always to learn about and control the future, the Teikokans are powerful elementalists, seeking to connect to the power of the world around them, the Rodamans have explored the depths and reaches of necromancy on their quest for power, and the casters of the Empire of Maga Khan have done the same with conjuration. Of course, spellcasters of all schools of magic exist in these places, but I realized I have made different nations centers of knowledge and learning for particular types of magic, where people more often flock to a certain type. It was a cool discovery that I made and explored, all starting with the Egyptian area of the British museum.


Another day in London, we visited Buckingham Palace, where we watched the Changing of the Guard between the Royal Ghurka Rifles and the Welsh Guards, followed by a visit to the Guards Museum. The pageantry of the ceremony, as well as the rich heritage of the Guards units, made me think about the future of my homebrew campaign setting. Providing nothing world-ending occurs in the current campaign, and the main player nation survives into the future, I have often thought about how the world would change with technological advances like gunpowder and basic industry. I’ve thought about campaigns set in a late Renaissance and early Enlightenment-inspired times in the world, and both the ceremony and the museum got me thinking about how the main player nation, Weissland, would evolve and what kind of Guard units it would have in its army. It was relatively minor things like organization and uniforms, but it was a fun series of thoughts to explore, as I enjoy worldbuilding and little details like uniforms and military organization are things that I think help build out a nation as believable.


A third place which we visited that was full of inspiration was Stirling Castle. Perched on a rocky cliff overlooking what was, for centuries, the only fordable point of the River Forth, Stirling Castle guarded the entrance to much of Scotland, including the Highlands. It was easily-defensible due to its location on the volcanic cliffs, and was continually attacked by both English and Scots, changing hands in the many wars they fought in an effort to control the vital crossing point. The castle, its placement, and history reminded me of the Twins from Game of Thrones. While the castle was not literally a fortified bridge like in Game of Thrones, it was an incredibly tough fortress guarding the only crossing point between north and south for armies going in either direction. In my own homebrew setting, in the main player nation of Weissland, I already have two castles, Ledek’s Span and Urun Aquea, which serve similar purposes. Urun Aquea guards the only crossing of the major river running east to west out of a mountain range to the east coast of Weissland, while Ledek’s Span guards the only crossing of the Ledek River which runs east-west from another mountain range to Lake Ledek, as well as a crossroads of three major routes, all converging at the crossing site. I placed these fortresses on the map during world-building specifically because it makes military sense to guard such important sites, especially as both places are in the southern area of Weissland and Weissland’s major threat comes from Rodamah to the south.


Visiting Stirling Castle, however, helped me better visualize these places in my head in terms of where they would be sited and how they would be constructed. While Ledek’s Span is in lowlands and would be constructed more like the twins, Urun Aquea is in coastal hill country, and now I view it being up on a rocky crag akin to Stirling Rock. The exhibits within the castle talking about the many sieges and battles fought there also gave me a better understanding of how difficult it would be to even attack a place like Stirling Rock. The attackers tried many different tactics, often simultaneously, to crack open the castle, some more successful than others. It reinforced that any war that occurred in southern Weissland, if the Rodamans cracked through the Great Wall, would see massive battles at both Urun Aquea and Ledek’s Span as the enemy tried to fight their way north. They could be the site of massive, cinematic set-piece battles in the campaign, where the players could participate in something truly epic, and perhaps even over the course of multiple adventures as they worked to protect the castle in a protracted siege.

Our trip to Britain provided me with many moments of inspiration for my Dungeons and Dragons campaign setting, from adventure ideas to entire civilizations, more than I could include in a blog post. I hope sharing some of my inspiration may inspire some of you as well to think about new ideas or refine things in your own campaigns.

As always, you can follow me at https://www.instagram.com/theramblinggm/ . Happy gaming!

War by Other Means (or War, Part 4)

The military strategist and theorist Carl von Clausewitz said, “War is the continuation of politics by other means.” Certainly, war is what nations resort to to achieve their diplomatic and political aims when peaceful methods have failed. I think it is interesting, though, to look at the reverse and how it applies once war has already started: that politics, diplomacy, trade, and subterfuge can all be considered ways to wage war by other means. Last post, Tactics vs Strategy (or War, Part 3), we discussed the reasons nations will fight wars and how that interacts with how they prosecute those wars at the strategic, operational, and tactical level. We also discussed how to use those things to get your players involved in the war and make them feel like what they are doing is making a difference.

But what if your players are not soldiers, or military leaders, and they have no interest in waging war on the battlefields. They may still want to participate in the war, helping their side, but may feel uncomfortable or out of place with big military moments and the chaos and blood of a warzone. That is no reason to refrain from introducing war into your campaign; instead, I say it is an opportunity to show your players a different side of war, and let them have major impacts in very different ways.

The concept of “total war,” where an entire country is mobilized as a part of the war effort and there are no holds barred in the prosecution of targets, is a relatively modern concept, yet that does not mean that states waged war solely on the battlefields, even going as far back as Ancient times. Once a nation has engaged in warfare, it is in their best interest to apply all of the tools they have available to them as a state to achieving whatever strategic goals they have set forth. Three of the main tools which a nation can use in warfare, away from the battlefield, are broadly trade, diplomacy, and subterfuge.

Trade is often the lifeblood of many nations, particularly in medieval fantasy settings. There is very little chance that a nation has all of the natural resources and goods it needs in order to survive, let alone all of the goods that its citizens want in order to enjoy their lives. Metals and ores for weapons, wood for ships and siege engines, spices, sugar, silks, all of these things were historically-traded commodities and it is likely that there is some sort of interplay between nations for these goods in your setting. An island nation who relies on a strong navy needs timber, which they most likely lack in sufficient quantity to build and maintain their ships, so they must trade for it in order to survive; they could send fish to a mostly-landlocked country in exchange. A country of steppe-dwelling horsemen has need of good metal to forge their weapons, but they have no areas to mine metal, nor even the ability to do so, so they trade for it, perhaps sending livestock to a mountainous country which has an abundance of ores but little land for growing crops or maintaining flocks. This works in science fiction equally well, as it is easy to have planets have exotic or unique resources that enable specific technologies, forcing planets to trade for it. Trade can even become central to a nation’s identity, being the main source of its income and allowing them to spread their influence around the world, as Britain did in the 18th century.

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How does this factor into war? When two nations clash, it is easy to get wrapped up in the maneuvers of armies and navies and the battles they fight, but war is expensive business. As many wars have been ended because one side or both sides ran out of money as have been ended by decisive battles. Nations need to be able to fund their military ventures, since soldiers require more food due to their activity than normal, plus spending on things like transportation, ammunition, and repairs can add up quickly. Given the importance of money to the continued waging of war, many nations will choose to target the enemy economy as a way of limiting their opponent’s options or even trying to force them to sue for peace early. Attacking trade is a timeless strategy, and one which provides ample opportunities for quests for your players. Attacking trade convoys, whether on land, on sea, or in space, enables the players to still participate in combat and fight interesting battles with varied objectives (destroy cargo, steal cargo, swap cargo with other cargo), without forcing them onto a battlefield with all of the scale and chaos that battlefields bring. It also can present the players with difficult decisions, as, depending on your characterization, the caravan or convoy may simply be full of civilian merchants with some hired guards who are only trying to make a living, and the available job was to transport the goods for the enemy country; do the players kill them? Do they even go through with destroying or stealing the goods if they find this information out? Convoy raiding may also appeal to players motivated by money, as it is a surefire way to earn coin, both from being paid by the nation that hired them, as well as reaping rewards from the plundered convoy.

One particularly fun way to institute trade raiding is by making your players privateers. Privateers were private citizens of a country who received a “letter of marque” from the government, enabling them to essentially conduct piracy in the name of their country and their country’s ruler, as long as the ships were of a certain country. I did this in the Edge of the Empire game I ran, with the Empire giving the party a letter of marque to attack the ships of another group. Letters of marque normally entitle the bearer to keep any goods aboard the ships they attack and even be paid for ships they bring back to friendly ports. If you are running a sci fi or a nautical campaign, or want to put your players to sea, privateering in a war can be a fun campaign arc. Privateering can also assuage any moral qualms players may have who think being a pirate may be fun, but immoral; since the piracy is sanctioned and only against certain targets who are enemies in a war, players should easily be able to get behind it, regardless of alignment. A lawful good character may even see it as being in line with his or her ideals! Also, letters of marque can be awesome prop pieces to hand out to your players, as I did in my EOTE game; an example of one is below.

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It is logical to think that diplomacy takes a pause when war breaks out, but that simply isn’t true. Nations were often more active in diplomacy during war than before or after war, and for good reason. Right off the bat, the concept of “recalling ambassadors” is mainly for show, since countries would usually continue to send representatives either to each others’ capitals or to neutral meeting locations throughout the conduct of the war to discuss where their respective governments were at in terms of desire for peace and what they wanted out of any peace. Additionally, nations would utilize their ambassadors to other nations to actively attempt to alter the scales of war, usually through three ways. The first was to try to convince another nation to join the war on their side. The second was to try to convince another nation who was not currently in the war to stay out of the war, usually if it seemed like that nation was being courted by the enemy to join. The third was, if there was an alliance of enemy nations, to try to convince one of those nations to drop out of the war or even switch sides.

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Diplomatic missions can offer an interesting and fun change of pace for players, especially if they are usually involved in physical combat. It also enables players who are less combat-inclined, or players who enjoy complex roleplaying encounters, to take the lead and shine, and really enjoy themselves. Diplomatic quest arcs can be rife with intrigue, competing factions within a government that players can play against each other, and danger no less real than that of a battlefield, but with a separate set of guidelines and customs that must be observed given the status of their mission. They can be intense and stressful (in a good way!), even if there is never a risk of anyone losing a single hit point. If you send your players on a diplomatic mission in a war, I encourage you to make the encounters with the diplomats or politicians of the other nation just as in-depth as any combat encounter. Some systems even have full rules for “social combat,” such as Fantasy Flight Games’ Star Wars Roleplaying and Legend of the Five Rings systems, and I encourage you to check them out even if you are running a different system. Diplomatic missions will often have huge implications for the war overall; bringing a new nation into the war, with all of their military and economic resources, or causing a nation to drop out of the war and thus removing their military and resources from the enemy, can be a turning point. If your players succeed, they will see how massive an impact their mission has had on the war, and the success of their mission might even cause the enemy to reevaluate their position enough to sue for peace. For players who may not feel inclined to use violence to solve their issues, but still want to defend their nation or help in the war effort, diplomatic missions can be high-stakes, high-pressure encounters with fantastic roleplaying.

Subterfuge is a broad name for the activities a nation will use to secretly undermine its enemies’ abilities to continue to fight the war. Subterfuge missions are likely to feel familiar to most player groups since they will mostly involve sneaking around and trying not to get caught by guards. Subterfuge missions can run the gamut of all sorts of different quests for the players, some involving combat and others not, if the players get things right. Nations were not above doing nefarious things to try to throw an enemy off-balance, even if others would see it as reprehensible if they found out.

The classic example of a subterfuge quest is an assassination: the players’ nation gives them a mission to sneak into an enemy camp and kill an enemy general on the night before the battle. Or, the players must sneak into the enemy capital and try to kill the enemy king to throw the country into chaos and hopefully end the war.  Another is sabotage, and this can include many different types of goals the players must accomplish without being detected, or eliminating anyone who does. Players can be given a mission to sneak into an enemy base and upload a virus onto their computer system, paralyzing their ability to use their technology to its utmost capability. Or, they can be tasked to sneak into an enemy fort and poison the well, depriving the enemy a clean water source and forcing the defenders to give up. The players might have to rig a bridge to explode, either with enemy troops on it or even just to deny the enemy the ability to cross a river or chasm and thus forcing them to go in a different direction.

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A more complicated example of subterfuge that could easily turn into a long campaign arc is fomenting unrest in enemy lands. Throughout history, this was a common tactic employed by nations during war. Unless your nation is a utopia (and therefore unrealistic), there exists within its borders some sort of group that feels disenfranchised or unhappy with the current leadership. Normally, any sort of attempt by these people to break away or rise up in rebellion is doomed to failure without support, and nations were loathe to support rebellions in other nations during peacetime for fear that others would do the same to them in retaliation. In war, all bets were off. The players could be sent to another nation to make contact with this disenfranchised group, find out their goals and motivations, and then help get them to a position where they can strike a blow at the enemy, such as training them, helping them organize, and getting weapons and materiel. Once the rebels can fight, their attacks draw off forces, attention, and resources from the enemy nation, who must about-face and deal with a threat within their own borders. A great series of historical examples of this are the French-funded and supported Jacobite uprisings in 17th and 18th-century Britain, where France, at war with Britain many times, funded, armed, and sent troops to support Catholic supporters of alternative (and Catholic) claimants to the Protestant British throne. While unsuccessful, they did divert attention and resources of the British back to their home isles, rather than the continent. In our Age of Rebellion game, we have done many missions and campaign arcs like this, as it is one of the ways the Rebel Alliance is able to grow and continue to fight the Empire.

As you can hopefully see, there are many ways to get and keep your players involved in the juggernaut that is a major war affecting their homes without them necessarily needing to fight on the battlefield. Depending on group and player makeup, there is a quest or campaign arc to make everyone happy, and with high stakes which make the players feel like their actions are really having an impact on the world at large.

If you want more RPG and tabletop gaming goodness, check out my Instagram, @TheRamblingGM.

Runner of games, teller of stories. Sharing tips, lessons I've learned from running games, and homebrew content. Follow me at www.instagram.com/theramblinggm/

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