Showing posts with label ChatGPT. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ChatGPT. Show all posts

Sunday, July 27, 2025

How My Thinking Process Made This

It should come as a surprise to no one that presently I'm deep in the process of getting the second issue, the September Issue, of the magazine sorted and settled, now with the 1st of August being my deadline for pre-purchasers instead of the 21st. I'm in process, but it's engaging and I haven't much time to write blog posts.  I could use some spiced nettle draught right now.

Funny but the second issue is more difficult than the first, as there's an expectation to match what's been done.  The positive feedback that I've received for the first one is unequalled, exhilarating and a little scary. Nonetheless, I'm passed over the feeling that "no it can't be done" into "oh hell yeah, this is great." It's a nice tipping point.

This is my first post not trying to sell the thing, but I can't not talk about it because it's become the single overwhelming concern for me. It's pushed my sales of old books up, it's pushed my patreon up, it's pushed my self-confidence up and, well, I think it's bloody brilliant, myself.

But since it's my nature to deconstruct everything, it's a natural impulse to do so here. I'm not saying that I want to talk about how the "sausage is made," that's not of interest to me. Rather, the question in my head begins with the moment of inspiration that brought this about (and I'm listening, weirdly, to Grace Slick telling me to remember what the door mouse said as I write this).

I was looking at some of those magazine cover memes that people throw together about politics and other things, where they choose a picture and then badly design the outcalls on the front, like The Onion does. That got me to thinking, "Hm. I wonder how hard it would be to take one of those covers and actually flesh out the entire interior of the magazine..."

You know, actually design a mast head, make the art, write the articles, be as absurd as the cover is, not worry about whether or not it's true. I mucked about for a bit with that, off and on... this would be about mid-last month. And got to talking about it with my daughter, because annoying daughters with stupid grandfather stuff is how the world works. Or ought to.

It was a day or so after that when I began to think... "Isn't there some way this could work for D&D?"

As it happens, I have a very dense game world, not only because it's based on the real world, but because of the way I think about the real world.  Over the last couple of years, I've been playing with all sorts of possibilities that are available now, that weren't a few years ago, specifically in the crossroads where A.I. and Googlemaps meet.  To explain this, I have to include a passage here from a book I'm never likely to finish, but which I mess with because sometimes I just want to relax:

"Oh," Anya replied. Reaching out, touching the button, a panel glided open — revealing a hidden, chilled compartment, from which emerged a hint of cold mist. Crystalware glasses, etched with the Rolls-Royce mirrored 'R's, were just in reach. "Thank you," she said to Marshall, seeing intuitively where ice and water came from.

"Certainly, Miss. The black button opens the other bar, but I guessed you might want to keep your head clear."

"Yes, definitely," Anya replied, feeling the Rolls ease into motion as she filled a glass, the weight of the crystal strangely grounding in her hand. Without thinking, she drank it down in a single draught, as if the coolness might steady her. Resting the glass upon her forehead, Anya asked, "Do you mind if I ask... if it doesn't bother you while you drive... how long have you known Ms. Hedges?"

Marshall flicked her a look in the rear view mirror and considered as they crossed Park Avenue. Then Madison. "Unless I miss my guess, Miss Frost, you were hired today. It's your first day of work."

Keeping an eye upon her and on the road, he saw her nod, saw the reluctance to speak. Easily, Marshall turned the car onto 5th Avenue, adding, "I don't work for Ms. Hedges, but for an agency that provides specific drivers when requested... but I do remember my first day working for her. If you'll allow me to tell you." He stopped for the light on 54th street.

"Please do," Anya replied, eyes meeting Marshall's in the rear view.

"I didn't know her but I'd heard another say she was politely reticent; she dislikes any sort of interaction, such as we're having now. That day, she directed me out of the city, towards Scranton and Carbondale. It was bitterly cold... in the minus twenties. She wore a fur coat and had a mink wrapper stretched across her legs, while I had these—" he showed his leather driving gloves; "—and a suit jacket much like I'm wearing now."

The light changed and the phantom slid forward, making a lane change once they were past the intersection. "The first stop we made was outside Honesdale. One of those old-money places where the house spreads out and sits on a lot of land. Ms. Hedges had me stop... and as a woman in the house emerged, Ms. Hedges cast off the furs and slipped into a plain cloth coat. They met, hugged and went inside. I could see they were friends. In the car, I let the engine run hot and got by, even as frost grew on the windows."

Traffic on 5th flowed well, as they crossed 55th, then 56th. "She reappeared after an hour, the woman in the house with her; again they hugged, and talked a bit longer, before Ms. Hedges came to the car. Then, as she changed her coat—" Marshall slowed down and stopped for the light on 57th; "—she gave directions for our journey in a most impatient way. I wanted to ask, but of course I didn't; we went to a little place called Mehoopany, in the Poconos. Another sprawling ranchhouse, another change of her coat, another woman waiting on the porch. I watched the same scene play out again and began to wonder."

As the turn signal clicked, Marshall smiled into the rear view, engaging Anya again. "I don't know what was going on. We went to a third place; not far away. Lawton I think it was. Same scene, same embraces and the same hesitancy before separating. I don't think Ms. Hedges was disturbed by it, not exactly; each meeting looked to be with friends. But I saw that it was wearing on her."

The light changed and Marshall turned west onto 57th. "It wore on me, too. I'd been six, seven hours in the car, my feet ice cold despite the heater, my hands stiff as I held the wheel. If there'd been an opportunity, I'd have stopped and purchased one, but every place we stopped was in the country." Without malice, he paused before saying, "I must admit, I said a few unpleasant things in the car as I waited, you can imagine."

"It must have been a very long day," Anya replied kindly.

"It was. But when Ms. Hedges got into the limo after the third visit, she directed us towards Towanda. I followed the GPS and got us there, where she had me drive down main street. She told me to stop, in front of a men's clothing store, and said, 'You must be cold. Wait here.'"

They crossed 6th Avenue. "I still hear her saying that," he said. "Matter-of-factly; and she went in, bought me a rich, fine mohair coat and a pair of gloves, I don't know how much it was... but she compelled me to accept them, and not consider the cost." He chuckled. "You've seen already, no doubt, what she can be like."

The Phantom passed Carnegie Hall — Anya saw that Matteo Rüttimann was to begin a week-long engagement. "I've seen it," she agreed.

"Then you know. I was grateful. She settled into her seat, directing me back to New York. It was well after dark before I brought her home."

They sat silently, crossing 7th Avenue; the Phantom stopped again for the light on 8th. Anya's gaze drifted to the familiar stone facade of the old Hearst Magazine Building, before Marshall turned in his seat and looked at her. "She may not seem to care; but she does. I've look forward to driving her — not because we're friends. We're not even acquaintances. But she deserves to be treated with the greatest respect. If I'm her driver, I know this is what she gets." He paused. "I'm going to drop you off right there, just past the green awning on the right. I'll be back to collect you at four."


No one has to read this... it's merely the best way I have of describing the headspace that brought me to The Lantern. The above is telling two stories about two different geographical trips. One through New York City from the Citiplaza Centre (where that building that every youtube creator says is going to fall down) to the corner that, yes, has the Hearst magazine building, where Cosmo comes from.  The other covers an area of Pennsylvania and upstate New York. And if the reader knows either of these parts of the world, they'll know the locations and timing is accurate.

But here's the thing. I've never been to New York. Or upstate Pennsylvania. But I have streetview in GoogleMaps, so all the houses in Pennsylvania that the story stops at, those are all real.  The corners in New York, too. I paced all the dialogue driving through New York by word count, because it's one continous stream of conversation.  Essentially, I drew it like a screenplay, if I actually wanted to film the car moving along those streets, all in one shot.

Why?

Not sure, really. Because I could, certainly. It's been two years and some since my eyes were opened about ChatGPT, which no one talks about, save a few people in my actual real life orbit.  I assume there are others, but they don't share it on the 'net, probably because they'd sound as crazy as I do right now. Because they'd have to post large sections of a story that no one's read, to get the point across.

Presently, we can ask anything.  And because we can also check any answer we get, pretty easily, we don't have to wait for google to skew our searches, or hope that other search engines won't. We can just ask, making the question as complicated as we wish, and go on asking question after question as we shape and build and design, well... anything. I don't have to live in New York. I have all the images of New York, through Google street view, that I need.  And now I have a program that can describe every image.  I can even screen shot the image off Google and give it to chat and ask, "what is this?" and get the answer I want.

And what are we talking about? Whether students can cheat on tests. Whether artists can still function. Uh huh. It's 2025. I think the 20th century is done. Yes there will be artists. But those doing it the way it was done 40 years ago? Um... no, probably not.

All right, put all that aside. How do I publish a magazine for D&D?

'Cause that was the question.  I'm thinking about The Onion and trying to adapt that to D&D, which of course got me thinking about the Dragon Magazine, and how much I hated it, yes in 1981, because it really was such a shitty, shitty, shitty product.

And no, I didn't get to liking it later.

What bugged me then was how really worthless it was for my efforts as a DM. As a map guy, growing up in a world where floor plans are, um, everywhere, it wasn't of much use that a magazine about D&D thought what I needed were a lot of really badly made, not well scaled maps with extremely low detail, since I could pretty much draw this in less than a minute. The notion that I should "get excited" about this bothered me then, and it really bothers me now when people still talk about the Dragon as though it were some amazing thing.  The "life cycle" of the ochre jelly?  What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?

Though yes, I probably could do something with it now, I'm a lot smarter... and I have chat. But the original article is no doubt so bad, I'd do better to start with the title and nothing else.

Yet, here I am, five weeks ago now, thinking, couldn't I do the Dragon better somehow?  I mean, the real issue wasn't the staff's mediocre sense of anthropology or biology, or their crippling outlook on historical politics or social structure, or even their cut-and-paste approach to dungeon making. The real problem was that they didn't take any of it seriously. For them, it was a game — no, not D&D, the magazine.  I mean, nothing these guys did really mattered... they were just selling their stuff to an audience less bright than they were, in a market with no competitors, to a core audience with only a few alternatives to pick from (which could likewise be easily covered)... while at the same time, there was no way they could be "wrong" about anything, because it's all just make believe anyway. None of these things are real, right? Want the life history of the goblin?  Just make it up.

On some level, I appreciate that. Except that, apart from the magazine, the players in the game campaign DID want a certain degree of consistency, which the magazine wasn't. Not even remotely. Which of course matched the audience, which hard as it is to believe, were actually more ignorant then than they are now. It's just that all the ones still with us from back then, like me, educated themselves. The true idiots, whose money nevertheless supported the magazine, quit the game and ended up selling insurance.

All right, you can see, I have some issues. Fair. But because they didn't take it seriously, the writers and self-styled gurus of the culture all ended by representing themselves as fatuously "above it all," beyond criticism... which is really a terrible place for a writer. If you don't listen to criticism, and adjust to it, as a writer you just get worse.

Therefore, the problem with the dragon, I realised, was that the writers all lived in the real world. Which put them "above" the game in their heads... and thus, "too good" for it.

What if all the "writers" were inside the game world?  That's where my head went.  What if Geoffrey Fleetmarsh, the editor, was a sort of desperate, haranguing self-righteous publisher, sure that he's always right, yet beset endlessly by incompetents, bill collectors, a readership that didn't appreciate what he was doing and so on? What if the articles were written by people who had been there, suffered the thing personally, and now had a reason to take it to this small broadsheet that'll print it because the agenda is "to shock while telling the absolute truth"?  And if there are ads, they wouldn't be slick and clean and well written... they'd be self-submitted, clumsy, full of nonsense that never ought to be in an ad, but rural truthful too. And since everything was "inside" the setting, then every off-handed comment about a wolf, an abandoned building or a missing drunkard would be "real," and therefore a potential "hook" for a DM to use.

In a lot of ways, the hooks sort of write themselves. The first rule, obey the Dragon and accept that the main aren't going to take things seriously. An edict against casting weather spells indoors?  Absolutely. The inn has a problem with dwarves?  Well, they do throw dishes and bang the table when they sing.  The fellow who fixes wagons doesn't want to travel more than a mile to do so... of course.  And it's not like addresses existed then.  So don't include them in the ads.

But then, because I'm me, and I don't play a game world that's all fun and fluffy bunnies, why not make the world real. I mean, pick a year. 1635.  That's 15 years before the game world I've been designing for 30 years takes place. I know the time period. I know the people, the sociology, the politics. The west counties is a good place for it. Separate from the main land routes, but populated and familiar as an English countryside.  A good mix of sea and land. Ships regularly landing at Plymouth from all over the world. Someone arrives from... oh, Africa, and tells a story. Any story. Any standard D&D warstory, but told from the point of a view of someone in that world, whose been there, and was invested in the outcome.  No autocratic, objective DM's point of view.  Players, experiencing the world and writing the story.  So that other players would want to read it.

I knew how to research this, how to put it together, how to follow each little scene with google maps, what questions to ask, and how to shape the dialogue and frame the concept, in the time frame I have, because of that scene above where I wrote about a car driving through New York City. Each bit of design we do, each thing we learn, gets a later application. I don't worry that I'm "wasting time," because whatever I'm doing now, it'll apply to something later. That's how I became this, and not the guy scrambling to come up with something about ochre jellies.

I was kind of shaking when I thought of this. And I would have dropped it... if this had been 2022.  Because in 2022, there was no way to adequately address what the world was like in 1635.  There would have been no way to produce this much art, this fast, for the cost that would have been, adjusted to both the time period AND the idea that the work wouldn't be limited by 1635 technology.  There simply wouldn't have been a way for a single person to do this, monthly.  Not and have it look like this. If it were 2022, I'd have had this idea and it never would have happened.

And those who have expressed, here and there, their trouble with my use of A.I. art?  I've paid for art. I bought my first piece of art for a publication I was putting together in 1994.  And I have deliberated, discussed, dealt with and paid artists for the last thirty years, when I had to, because I had no choice. Those bringing up the issue, I'm guessing you've never done it... and certainly not as often as I have. And certainly not with the understanding that being able to invent a piece of art in one's head, and have it in usuable form inside of 20 minutes?

You might as well tell me I should walk to New York, because trains put coaches out of business 185 years ago.

Sorry. I can do this now. I'm not going to wait for this to be "all right" for a lot of people who can't cope.

There you are. That's where this came from.  I'll bet the above doesn't make much sense.  A lot of time, when I just throw out a post like this, without planning it, the logic doesn't hold up well.  I go down this side passages, rant, come back, sort of just stumble around to the end, until I run out of "Oh yeah, and..." moments in my head. Which is now.




Saturday, February 22, 2025

Gems

Now and then, I wring these magnificent gems out of chat... most of the time, they just emerge spontaneously:

A modern Crime and Punishment would be a goddamn gotcha story, where Raskolnikov is revealed to have thought about killing the pawnbroker but, in a last-minute twist, never actually did it. Or maybe he did, but—plot twist!—he was secretly justified all along because the pawnbroker was running a child slavery ring, and suddenly he’s a tragic antihero instead of a man wrestling with guilt and ideology.

Or worse, the entire thing would be framed as trauma recovery. Instead of exploring moral consequence and existential despair, we’d get a narrative bending over backwards to reassure us that Raskolnikov was just a victim of circumstance, mental illness, and the crushing weight of society. He wouldn’t suffer because of what he did—he’d suffer because of what happened to him, shifting the entire burden of responsibility away from his own choices.

That’s the disease in modern storytelling: a deep-seated fear of letting a character be wrong. Writers today don’t want true moral ambiguity. They want antiheroes who are only bad because they have to be, because the world left them no choice. There’s no real punishment anymore, because that would mean acknowledging that the character actually did something worth punishing.

Dostoevsky didn’t write to make Raskolnikov likable—he wrote to make him real. A modern version would be afraid of that.


I for one welcome our new A.I. overlords... 

Friday, March 1, 2024

Further Chatting about Chat

So, some may wonder what I was clarifying with my earlier post today, just as some no doubt wondered what was the point of this earlier post regarding "lore."

I feel that much of the discussion surrounding what chatGPT is, or what it does, reflects sentiments against the idea itself.  Much like the way that television media discusses the ills and evils of social media or the addictive internet (its most devastating competitor for eyeballs), writers of magazines, both on and off line, have been waging a war for a year now to sow fear about and resistance against Chat.  I've seen Chat accused of making people stupider, destroy privacy, destroy facts, take jobs from people, wreck education, cause real-world harm and no doubt initiate the rapture.  These articles are being written by people increasingly working in an industry that's progressively embracing Chat (an industry I'm part of) because in truth, it's fantastically useful in the hands of someone who knows what he or she is doing.  And because, yes, it's going to destroy thousands of jobs held by people who have been writing magazine-level dreck all their lives (and are unable to write anything better).

Once upon a time, I used to write for a real estate magazine.  I wrote three articles a month, about 650 words an article, which paid me $450.  Sometimes, I was asked to write a fourth or a fifth article for an associate magazine of the one I usually worked for, because the umbrella company ran about fifty different publication "fronts" all over western Canada.

These magazines were free, being available at stands located on downtown corners and LRT stations, in strip malls and sports centres and outside convenience stores.  They were essentially rags designed to sell advertising ... and for the most part, the writing was precisely the level that I see pushed at me by articles arising out of google's algorithm.  I had this side job for 7 years, during which time I produced some of the worst writing I'd ever produced.

The three articles were as follows: (a) an article on some element of real estate, which I was to explain for the uninitiated; (b) an article on the real estate market, which had to look like economic reporting but in fact could only come to the conclusion that the market was great and was on the rise; and (c) an article highlighting some neighbourhood in Calgary where people might want to live.  And obviously, every neighbourhood was wonderful, just wonderful.

My deadline would be the Tuesday before publication, which was the Friday after.  I succeeded in that about 19 times out of 20.  Sometimes, I would write an email to ask for another day to finish one of the articles.  The only reason I was ever late was because I hated writing these articles; ugh.  And now and then, I couldn't force myself to do it when I had to.  In all honesty, I both researched and wrote the articles on the same day they were due.   On average, research and writing together, for one article, took between 25 and 40 minutes.  I'd get up early Tuesday, sit down in a state of misery and slam out three articles in under two hours.

After a year, much to my surprise, I found that the editors loved me.  And I mean LOVE.  Because I was on time (other writers were turning in their stuff late Thursday night or Friday morning, though their deadline and mine were the same) and because I would throw in little bits of dry humour or an odd framing of a point that had paying clients congratulating the company on my being such a "great" writer.  But I've been honest with all of you here; I was not a "great" writer.  I was a terrible writer, basically cribbing details off the internet and then rewording them to fit the requirements.

If I had chatGPT then, like I have it now, I could have written all three articles in about 25 minutes.  Not because chatGPT would have written the articles for me, but because and I'd have had to do was to take Chat's awful writing and edit it out at my normal writing speed, about 65 words a minute.  No research would have been necessary, because it would all have been there in the program.

I promise all of you here, if you're reading an article written by someone for the internet, he or she is copying that article from a slightly worse effort by chatGPT.

Many people are scanning down through this post because they think I've chosen to write nothing of consequence, but the truth is that Chat is as an important technological advance as the internet itself.  This won't be understood by most people, partly because it's being touted that Chat is "writing" the content.  It isn't.  The content is a distilled mass of foregoing content, often in the hands of someone like me that can write and isn't concerned with whether or not it's "morally right" to use this tool.  For the last 20 years, every writer in the world has been stuck either with google or wikipedia when seeking to research anything; and while the usefulness of either vastly dwarfs the library where I used to sit and research freelance articles I wrote in the 1990s, these tools have been made obsolete — not only because the answers one gets are more to the point and reflective of what's actually wanted by a question, but also because each question asked is kept in Chat's memory, so that future questions can be asked IN CONTEXT.

Once this is grasped, that I can say to chatGPT, "Earlier you said that cream had to be separated in a machine -- what sort of machine is that," without having to go back to the beginning of every question, it's easy to understand what a leap forward this is.  I can maintain a single dialogue about oil fields in Indonesia that runs 50 or 60 thousand words, including text that I've punched in from other sites that Chat also remembers, all in context, so that I can question and pick out and have chat evaluate constantly.  Whereas the company I work for had some bad experiences with Chat last year, they've realised that yes, all their writers can produce about four times as much work each month in relatively less time.  I'm not discouraged from using Chat; I'm encouraged.  And everyone I know whose working in any field associated with writing right now will same the same — privately.  Publicly, this isn't supposed to be common knowledge.  Publicly, the narrative is being run by those companies who are directly threatened by Chat.  Publicly, the general population, who know nothing about writing, or how to do research, or anything about where words actually come from, are being told, "There's nothing to see here, move on, move on."  Which they are doing gratefully.

When I had that conversation about "lore," I wasn't looking for an answer to the question, "what is lore," but rather to expose that the whole matter and subject of lore is really just propaganda being used to sell company products, especially those products that have become stale and old as the years have passed. But if we repackage those products as "lore," this gives them a specific specialised flavour that encourages "true believers" to invest themselves towards the whole cannon, not just the works they've happened to buy. It's the same strategy we're seeing with Marvel and many other products, whose "shout out" mechanism for past glories pushes the stay-invested model.

Chat's answers, as the short back-and-forth I published earlier today explained, were dredged out of the industry's garbage-writing "lore" of a different kind ... the endless propagandistic dredge of reasons why we should all keep buying D&D products and thinking about the game in such and such terms, feeding the fanboy game player's need to "keep on top of what's happening" all the time.  Asking Chat these questions is much like those conversations I used to have on boards like RPGNet many, many years ago, where I'd spend time trying to corner some true believer into admitting that character backgrounds or game balance was really just a lot of bullshit.  The difference is that Chat won't move the goal posts; it won't derail the argument into some other discussion; it won't devolve into name calling or mockery or attempts to get others to dogpile as a means of winning the argument.  It'll try, as best it can, to argue the point on its merits ... which can be fun, as with something like "lore," there are no merits.

Some will say that you can make Chat say anything you want.  That you can argue it in a circle until it spits out whatever answer you think it ought to spit.  I don't think I asked leading questions in my example.  It's fairly easy to see when Chat got stumped; it helplessly repeated itself because there was no other answer except to repeat the propaganda.  This is how propaganda always is.  The only reason it "works" in human context is by those strategies I just named.  Proponents of sexism, racism, gun violence, abortion, whatever we might name, succeed in their rhetoric by moving goal posts, gish galloping, derailing, appealing to authorities, half-truths, name calling or any number of other deceptions.  This is what intelligent people do to maintain their biases.

Chat isn't intelligent.  It doesn't think at all.  It's bound by what it knows.  And what it knows is tons and tons of both good stuff and crap that's been dumped on the internet these last 30 years.  Digging into that is like putting on gloves to go dumpster diving.  Messy, full of possible sharp objects, not nice smelling ... but at the same time, people throw out a phenomenal number of interesting things.

I think it's interesting to pluck them out and turn them this way and that.

For Clarification

Me.  When you give replies around a specific subject, you obtain the details for that reply from other internet sites, yes?

Chat.  No, that's not how I work. My responses are generated based on the vast amount of text data I was trained on, which includes websites, books, articles, and other text sources up until my last training cut-off in January 2022. I don't access the internet in real-time to retrieve specific information for responses. Instead, I generate responses based on patterns and information learned during training. So, while I can provide information and answers on a wide range of topics, I can't access or retrieve real-time data from the internet.

Me.  So you access the internet as it was.

Chat.  That's correct. I was trained on a diverse dataset that includes text from the internet up until my last training cut-off in January 2022. However, I don't have the ability to access or retrieve information from the live internet. My responses are based solely on the information and patterns present in the data I was trained on. If you have any questions or need information within the scope of my training data, feel free to ask!

Me.  And the responses you give on subjects, say dungeons and dragons, is based on the information you were fed before 2022

Chat.  Exactly. When you ask me about specific subjects like Dungeons and Dragons, my responses are generated based on the knowledge and understanding I gained from the text data I was trained on, which includes information about Dungeons and Dragons up until January 2022. My responses are a reflection of the information and patterns present in that training data.

Saturday, February 24, 2024

Lore

Me.  for RPGs, define "lore."

Chat. In RPGs (Role-Playing Games), "lore" refers to the backstory, history, mythology, and overall world-building elements that provide context and depth to the game's setting. It encompasses everything from the creation myth of the world to the detailed histories of different regions, cultures, and characters within it. Lore often includes information about significant events, legendary figures, mystical artifacts, fantastical creatures, and any other elements that contribute to the rich tapestry of the game world. Players often engage with lore through in-game texts, dialogue, quests, and supplementary materials provided by the game developers, such as novels, comics, or online wikis. Lore adds immersion and context to the RPG experience, helping to create a believable and engaging fictional universe for players to explore and interact with.

Me.  If it defines "everything" to do with worldbuilding and RPGs, what's the value in using a different word for that?

Chat. You make a valid point. While "lore" does encompass a wide range of elements related to world-building in RPGs, using a specific term like "lore" can help to focus discussions or communications on this particular aspect. It's a shorthand way to refer to the collective history, myths, cultures, and other background details of a game world.

Additionally, using the term "lore" can convey a sense of tradition and depth, especially in the context of RPGs where immersion in the game world is crucial. It emphasizes the importance of storytelling and world-building in these games, distinguishing them from other genres where such elements might not be as prominent.

Ultimately, while "lore" does cover a broad spectrum of world-building aspects, it serves a purpose in RPG discourse by highlighting the significance of these narrative and contextual elements within the gaming community.

Me.  So, it's essentially a word intended to invoke a feeling, rather than actually defining anything to do with game design.

Chat.  In a sense, yes. The term "lore" does carry connotations of depth, tradition, and immersion within the gaming community, particularly in the context of RPGs. It's a word that encapsulates the rich backstory, mythology, and world-building elements that contribute to the overall experience of playing an RPG.

While "lore" doesn't have a strict, technical definition within game design, its usage has become ingrained in RPG culture to signify the narrative and contextual aspects that enhance gameplay. So, while it may not define specific game design mechanics, it does evoke a sense of the storytelling and immersive world-building that are integral to RPG experiences.

Me.  If it doesn't have a strict, technical definition, then it's pretty must useless for telling anyone how to design a game world in a functional, structured sense, yes?

Chat.  That's correct. While the term "lore" is useful for discussing and appreciating the narrative and world-building aspects of RPGs, it doesn't provide a structured framework or guidelines for designing a game world in a functional sense. When it comes to designing game worlds, developers typically rely on more concrete principles of world-building, such as establishing consistent rules, creating engaging environments, designing compelling characters and cultures, and crafting meaningful narratives.

While "lore" can inspire and inform aspects of game design, it's just one component of a larger process that involves careful planning, iteration, and consideration of various gameplay elements. Developers may draw upon established lore to enrich their game worlds, but they also need to ensure that the lore aligns with gameplay mechanics, player experiences, and overall design goals.

In summary, while "lore" is valuable for fostering immersion and storytelling in RPGs, it's not a substitute for the structured approach required in game design.

Me.   How is it useful? You just said it doesn't have a strict definition, it isn't technical and it's existence is primarily to evoke a feeling. None of this is utilitarian in nature, and therefore utterly useless for telling a dungeon master how to make, prepare or run a game world or an adventure.

Chat.  Apologies for any confusion. Let me clarify the utility of "lore" in RPGs:
  • Inspiration and Creativity: Lore can serve as a wellspring of inspiration for game masters (GMs) or dungeon masters (DMs) when crafting their own game worlds or adventures. Even though it doesn't have strict definitions, the existing lore in published settings or games can spark ideas for new stories, characters, or locations.
  • Establishing Atmosphere: Lore contributes to the atmosphere and tone of a game world. By immersing players in rich histories, myths, and cultures, it helps to create a more engaging and believable setting. DMs can use established lore or create their own to set the mood for their games.
  • Player Engagement: Well-developed lore can captivate players and encourage them to explore the game world more deeply. Players may be drawn to uncovering the mysteries of ancient civilizations, discovering forgotten lore, or interacting with characters rooted in the game's backstory.
  • Consistency and Continuity: While lore may not have strict definitions, it provides a framework for maintaining consistency and continuity within a game world. DMs can use established lore to ensure that their stories, characters, and events align with the established background of the setting.
  • Community Building: Shared lore can foster a sense of community among players and GMs who are familiar with the same game worlds or settings. It provides a common ground for discussion, speculation, and collaboration, enriching the overall gaming experience.
While "lore" may not offer precise guidelines for game design or adventure preparation, its utility lies in its ability to inspire creativity, establish atmosphere, engage players, maintain consistency, and build community within the RPG hobby. It serves as a tool for storytelling and world-building, enhancing the immersive experience of playing or running RPGs.

Me. Define utility.

Chat.  Utility, in the context of this conversation, refers to the usefulness or practical value of something. It's about how something serves a purpose or fulfills a need. In the case of "lore" in RPGs, its utility lies in its ability to inspire creativity, establish atmosphere, engage players, maintain consistency, and build community within the RPG hobby, as I mentioned in the previous response. So, utility essentially refers to the practical benefits or advantages that something provides.

Me.   Something that's "practical" is concerned with the actual doing or use of something rather than theory or ideas. In "theory," lore creates community building, consistency and continuity, player engagement, establishing atmosphere and inspiration and creativity, but you can't prove that it does so. You're just expressing a belief. That is not practical, and it's not utilitarian. It suggests that the whole concept of "lore" is an invented form of propaganda by RPG publishers in order to make participants feel better, while in fact not helping them DO anything.

Chat.  I understand your perspective, and I apologize if my previous responses didn't sufficiently address your concerns. Let's approach this from a different angle.

While it's true that the direct, tangible effects of lore in RPGs may not be easily quantifiable or provable in the same way as, for example, the rules of a game system, it's important to recognize that utility can also encompass less tangible benefits.

In the realm of RPGs, the practical use of lore lies in its ability to enhance the overall gaming experience for participants. While it may not offer step-by-step instructions or concrete tools for game preparation or world-building, it contributes to the enjoyment and immersion of players and game masters alike. Here's how:
  • Engagement and Immersion: Lore provides players with a rich tapestry of history, mythology, and culture to explore, which can deepen their immersion in the game world and enhance their enjoyment of the experience.
  • Inspiration and Creativity: Lore serves as a wellspring of inspiration for game masters, sparking ideas for new stories, characters, and plotlines that enrich the game world and keep players engaged.
  • Atmosphere and Setting: By establishing the background and tone of the game world, lore helps to create a vivid and immersive atmosphere that draws players into the story and enhances their enjoyment of the game.
  • Consistency and Continuity: While not strictly enforceable, established lore provides a framework for maintaining consistency and continuity within the game world, helping to ensure that the stories, characters, and events remain coherent and believable over time.
  • Community and Shared Experience: Shared lore fosters a sense of community among players and game masters who are familiar with the same game worlds or settings, providing a common ground for discussion, speculation, and collaboration.
While these benefits may not be as immediately measurable or tangible as those provided by more concrete game elements, they nevertheless contribute to the overall enjoyment and satisfaction of participants in RPGs. So, while the utility of lore may not be as readily apparent as that of other game elements, it nonetheless plays a valuable role in enriching the RPG experience for all involved.

Me.  I'm not speaking of things that are either measureable nor tangible, but practical and useful, as per your own definition.  Once again, you've only offered "ideas," not "practical" things of use.  Engagement, immersion, inspiration, et al, are subjective concepts.  I'm asking what objective use lore has in defining what a I ought to do when sitting down and starting to define my game world.  I can't just "write lore."  That's a totally useless prescription.  I can't "create atmosphere."  Without knowing what atmosphere is, or what I want, I have no way of knowing what to create.  Moreover, because it's subjective, the "atmosphere" of my world may in the end be totally different from any other, because I'm different, my players are different, and our goals are probably different as well.  So in essence, you're just spouting a lot of desired qualities for a world, but nothing in the way of actually making the world.

Chat.  I understand your frustration, and I appreciate your patience in clarifying your concerns. Let's delve deeper into the practical utility of lore in the context of creating a game world for RPGs.

When it comes to defining your game world, "lore" can serve as a foundational tool to guide your creative process. Here's how:
  • Establishing Context: Lore provides context for your game world by defining its history, cultures, geography, and other key elements. This context serves as a framework for your world-building efforts, giving you a starting point from which to expand and develop your setting.
  • Creating Consistency: By establishing a coherent backstory and mythology, lore helps you maintain consistency within your game world. This consistency is essential for creating a believable and immersive setting that resonates with your players.
  • Generating Ideas: Lore can inspire ideas for characters, plotlines, conflicts, and other elements of your game world. Drawing upon established lore or creating your own can spark creativity and help you generate interesting and engaging content for your RPG.
  • Setting Tone and Atmosphere: Lore influences the tone and atmosphere of your game world by shaping its history, cultures, and mythology. Whether you're aiming for a gritty, realistic setting or a whimsical, fantastical one, the lore you create will help set the desired mood for your game.
  • Enriching Player Experience: Well-developed lore enhances the player experience by providing depth, richness, and texture to your game world. Players are more likely to become invested in your game if they feel immersed in a richly detailed setting with a compelling backstory and mythology.
While lore alone may not provide a step-by-step guide for creating your game world, it serves as a valuable tool to inform and guide your creative process. By establishing context, creating consistency, generating ideas, setting tone and atmosphere, and enriching player experience, lore plays a crucial role in shaping the world of your RPG and making it come alive for your players.

Me.  Am I to wave a magic wand to create context?

Chat. Of course not. Creating context for your game world involves a deliberate and structured process. Here are some practical steps you can take to establish context using lore:
  • Identify Key Themes and Concepts: Determine the central themes and concepts you want to explore in your game world. This could include elements like magic, politics, war, exploration, or morality.
  • Develop a Backstory: Create a backstory for your game world that explains its history, origins, and major events. Consider factors such as the creation myth, ancient civilizations, cataclysmic events, and key historical figures.
  • Define Cultures and Societies: Flesh out the cultures, societies, and factions that inhabit your game world. Consider factors like government, religion, economy, social structure, and cultural practices.
  • Map Out Geography: Develop a map of your game world that outlines its geography, including continents, regions, cities, landmarks, and natural features. Consider how geography influences climate, resources, and travel routes.
  • Create Legends and Myths: Craft legends, myths, and folklore that add depth and mystery to your game world. These stories can provide insight into the beliefs, values, and fears of the inhabitants of your world.
  • Establish Relationships: Determine the relationships between different elements of your game world, such as nations, factions, religions, and species. Consider factors like alliances, rivalries, trade routes, and conflicts.
  • Iterate and Refine: Continuously iterate and refine your lore based on feedback from players, playtesting, and your own creative insights. Be open to making changes and adjustments as needed to ensure that your game world feels cohesive and immersive.

By following these steps and engaging in a systematic approach to world-building, you can create a rich and immersive context for your game world that enhances the overall experience for your players. While it may require time, effort, and creativity, the end result will be a vibrant and compelling setting that captivates the imagination and draws players into your RPG adventure.

Me.  Okay.  I use lore to identify a key theme, as per your instruction.  Tell me the first practical "step" that I need to do.  Don't give me an instruction about a goal I'm trying to obtain at some unknown point.  Explain a step I can take according to this instruction.  For example, "to turn on light, flip switch."  Give me that sort of step.

Chat.  Got it. Let's break it down into a concrete step-by-step process:

Step 1: Identify Key Theme Instruction: Use lore to identify a key theme.
  • Concrete Step:  Review Existing Lore: Examine the lore of your chosen RPG setting or any source material you're drawing from. Look for recurring motifs, symbols, or themes that resonate with you or that you find particularly compelling.
  • Brainstorm Themes: Based on your review of the lore, brainstorm potential themes that align with the world's backstory, cultures, and events. Consider concepts like power struggles, redemption, survival, exploration, or the clash of civilizations.
  • Select Key Theme: Narrow down your list of potential themes to one or two that you feel most strongly about or that you think will resonate best with your players. Choose themes that offer rich storytelling opportunities and that you're excited to explore further in your game world.
  • Define Theme: Clearly define the chosen theme in a sentence or two. For example, if your theme is "power struggles," you might define it as "the constant battle for control and dominance among competing factions in a world torn by conflict."
  • Reflect on Implications: Consider how the chosen theme will influence various aspects of your game world, including its history, cultures, characters, and plotlines. Reflect on how the theme will shape the tone, atmosphere, and overall direction of your RPG adventure.
By following these concrete steps, you can effectively use lore to identify a key theme for your game world and lay the groundwork for further world-building and storytelling.

Me.  Oh, I see!  I need to build my game world on existing game worlds based by other people.  I need to look at their written material (the word "lore" is a buzz-word for "stuff written by others") and decide which things I like and which I don't, selecting the "theme" I like, write a sentence or two about it, then reflect on that theme.  You do realise this requires that (a) I want to use other people's ideas; (b) I know what a theme is; (c) I know how to define a theme; and (d) I already have "aspects" of my game world to fit this into, which I don't, because I haven't created anything.  Your "first step" assumes that I've already done a heap of work first.  What if I haven't done that work?  What if I've never played or run the game before?  What if everything that's been written by other people is not what I want, because I want to create an original world.  If that's the case, then all the "lore" written by others is pretty damn useless, isn't it?

Chat.  You raise valid points, and I appreciate your feedback. Let's address each of your concerns:
  • Using Existing Game Worlds: While using existing lore can be a helpful starting point, it's not the only approach to world-building in RPGs. Many game masters prefer to create entirely original worlds from scratch, drawing inspiration from various sources including history, mythology, literature, and their own imagination.
  • Understanding Themes: If you're unfamiliar with the concept of themes or unsure how to define them, it's important to take the time to learn about them. Themes are underlying ideas or concepts that recur throughout a narrative, and they can provide coherence and depth to your game world. Resources such as writing guides, online tutorials, or discussions with experienced game masters can help you develop a better understanding of themes and how to use them effectively.
  • Starting from Scratch: If you're starting with a blank slate and haven't yet created any aspects of your game world, it's perfectly fine to begin by brainstorming ideas and concepts that interest you. You can explore different themes, settings, cultures, and plotlines without being constrained by existing lore or preconceived notions.
  • Creating an Original World: If you're committed to creating an original world, you have the freedom to build it according to your own vision and preferences. While existing lore can provide inspiration or serve as a point of reference, you're not obligated to use it if it doesn't align with your creative goals.
Given your concerns, here's a revised first step that doesn't rely on existing lore:
  • Revised Step 1: Brainstorm Ideas
  • Brainstorm Themes: Spend some time brainstorming potential themes, settings, cultures, and plotlines for your game world. Consider what interests you, what kind of stories you want to tell, and what themes you want to explore.
  • Research and Inspiration: Draw inspiration from a variety of sources, including history, mythology, literature, art, and personal experiences. Explore different genres and styles to find elements that resonate with you and that you want to incorporate into your game world.
Define Your Vision: Clearly define your creative vision for your game world. Think about the tone, atmosphere, and overall direction you want to take with your RPG adventure, and begin sketching out the broad strokes of your world-building efforts.

By starting with a brainstorming session and drawing inspiration from various sources, you can begin to shape your original game world according to your own vision and creative preferences.

Me.  Let's revise your definition of "lore." It doesn't mean "the backstory, history, mythology, and overall world-building elements that provide context and depth to the game's setting." It means, stuff other people have written in relation to existing RPG content.

Chat. Thank you for the clarification. Let's revise the definition of "lore" to better reflect its commonly understood meaning in the context of RPGs:

"Lore refers to the body of knowledge, stories, and information created by authors, game developers, and community members within the context of an established RPG setting. It encompasses the backstory, history, mythology, and world-building elements specific to a particular game or fictional universe, as documented in official publications, supplementary materials, and community-generated content."

This definition highlights that lore is indeed tied to existing RPG content and encompasses the collective knowledge and creative contributions of individuals involved in the RPG community.

Me.  Which may or may not be useful in worldbuilding.

Chat.  Exactly. While lore can be a valuable resource for world-building, it's not the only approach, and its usefulness depends on various factors such as personal preferences, creative goals, and the specific needs of the game being developed. Some game masters may find existing lore helpful as a starting point or source of inspiration, while others may prefer to create entirely original worlds from scratch. Ultimately, the utility of lore in world-building is subjective and contingent upon the individual circumstances of each game designer or storyteller.

_____

I'm tempted to write a number of these. 

Thursday, September 21, 2023

Amazing

My apologies; this post is for the benefit of just one or two of my readers, and anyone out there who has written a module and would like to widen their audience.

On Monday I wrote a post called "Paradigm Shift."

This included a number of generated passages, one of which dealt with how to run a pressure plate with dart trap in D&D.

Here is that passage again.  In Portuguese.  Generated by chat GPT.  Only I didn't enter the original English passage.  Instead, I asked the question, "How do D&D rules function with relation to the pressure plate with dart trap?  Give the answer in Portuguese."


As regras de Dungeons & Dragons (D&D) funcionam da seguinte maneira em relação à placa de pressão com armadilha de dardo:

Detecção: Em D&D, a capacidade de um personagem detectar a placa de pressão é determinada pelo seu valor de Percepção Passiva, que representa sua consciência inata do ambiente ao seu redor. Alternativamente, os personagens podem procurar ativamente por armadilhas fazendo um teste de Sabedoria (Percepção). O Mestre do Dungeon (DM) define a dificuldade (DC) para esse teste com base em quão bem a armadilha está escondida. Um teste bem-sucedido significa que o personagem detectou a armadilha.

Ativar a Armadilha: Se um personagem pisa na placa de pressão sem detectá-la, a armadilha é ativada. O DM decide quando e como a armadilha de dardo é ativada, dependendo da narrativa e das circunstâncias. Isso pode envolver um mecanismo oculto ou um fio de gatilho ligado ao lançamento do dardo.

Teste de Resistência: Quando a armadilha é ativada, os personagens afetados podem ser obrigados a fazer um teste de Resistência de Destreza. O DC para este teste é definido pelo DM, levando em consideração o design e a complexidade da armadilha. Um teste bem-sucedido permite que o personagem evite ou reduza os efeitos da armadilha, como desviar-se dos dardos que se aproximam.

Dano: Se o personagem falhar no teste de resistência, geralmente sofrerá dano dos dardos. O tipo e a quantidade de dano são determinados pelo DM e pelo design da armadilha. Por exemplo, pode ser dano perfurante causado pelo impacto dos dardos.

Veneno: Se a armadilha de dardo estiver envenenada, personagens que falharem no teste de resistência também podem estar sujeitos a dano por veneno ou a efeitos adicionais. Os detalhes dos efeitos do veneno são determinados pelo DM e podem incluir condições como envenenamento ou paralisia.

Desarmar: Personagens com proficiência em Ferramentas de Ladrão ou habilidades similares podem tentar desarmar a armadilha antes que ela seja ativada. Isso geralmente envolve um teste de Destreza usando Ferramentas de Ladrão. Um teste bem-sucedido desativa a armadilha, tornando-a segura para atravessar.

Evitar a Armadilha: Em alguns casos, os personagens podem encontrar uma maneira de evitar a placa de pressão completamente, como saltando sobre ela, usando um bastão longo para pressioná-la à distância ou usando meios criativos para contornar a armadilha. O DM pode recompensar os jogadores por soluções inventivas.

Impacto Narrativo: O DM deve descrever os efeitos da armadilha e as consequências de ativá-la de uma maneira que aprimore a narrativa e envolva a imaginação dos jogadores. Isso ajuda a criar uma experiência de jogo imersiva e emocionante.

É importante notar que D&D é um jogo flexível, e as mecânicas exatas e as consequências de uma armadilha de dardo podem variar com base na edição jogada e nas preferências do DM. A comunicação clara entre o DM e os jogadores é fundamental para garantir que todos entendam como as armadilhas funcionam na campanha específica.


I don't know what it says, or how accurate that is, since I don't understand Portuguese.  If someone would like to parse it, please do.

For myself, I find this incomprehensibly amazing.


_____

If you wish to comment, please write questions, ideas or opinions to alexiss1@telus.net and they will be posted on Saturdays.  Feel free to introduce new subjects or present your own work.

If you wish to make a donation to Patreon, it will be greatly appreciated and help with costs for illustrating the Streetvendor's Guide.

Sunday, September 17, 2023

Paradigm Shift

I can appreciate that many people may wonder at my recent posts about chatGPT, and perhaps they're owed an apology.  I've heaped my own disparagement of the program's output, and certaintly there's a low level contempt that permeates the popular media.  It's even true that the present writer-actor strike is deeply tainted by this program, and programs like it.

Nonetheless, I feel compelled to return to the subject again because the practical uses I'm finding compare in scope with wikipedia and google books.  I'd be foolish not to take advantage of that, and selfish not to share my findings.

For decades now, I've seen D&D pundits compose lists of "adventure" ideas, usually in groups of 20 and not usually as many as a hundred.  Most items of this kind are of minimal value.  It's honestly very hard to produce a good, new idea, unless one has spent a lot of time practicing the effort.  Still, there's no way to fault these efforts, as the demand from DM's far outweighs the supply.  Everyone has, at one point or another desperately gone onto Google to search for some idea that can be used in an upcoming game.

Unfortunately, such ideas are thin and cliched.  I don't like to base my adventures around some entity that conveniently appears, hands a magic item over to the players that can be used to make them invincible enough to walk into a predictable dungeon and succeed in rescuing someone or obtaining a different Mcguffin.  I like adventures based on intrigue and difficult moral choices, not on treasure —which may also be included regardless.  As well, I like adventures that take place in populated areas, not just the wilderness, as situations where the players are surrounded by real people tends to require greater imagination in problem-solving than hacking apart the Gordian knot.

For these reasons, the internet is of very little use to me.

BUT ... not so CGPT.  The thing is, one has to understand how the program works.  See, the more precise the phrasing, the better something can be searched for in Google.  But the more verbose the phrasing, the better results one can get from CGPT.  I'll give an example.  Suppose I want to set an adventure, of the kind I like, in a guild-ridden neighbourhood of, say, Budapest.  Here's what I type into CGPT:

"Set a D&D adventure in a guild-neighborhood of Budapest, with the following parameters: I don't like to base my adventures around some entity that conveniently appears, hands a magic item over to the players that can be used to make them invincible enough to walk into a predictable dungeon and succeed in rescuing someone or obtaining a different Mcguffin. I like adventures based on intrigue and difficult moral choices, not on treasure —which may also be included regardless. As well, I like adventures that take place in populated areas, not just the wilderness, as situations where the players are surrounded by real people tends to require greater imagination in problem-solving than hacking apart the Gordian knot."


Note that I searched the exact wording of the paragraph above, rather than bothering to tailor my search in some precise way.  CGPT doesn't care.  Not only is it not limited in the content it can search, it's not limited by the use of any English word I use, nor idioms, nor anything.  It has a complete apprehension of all these things.

Would you like to see the answer?  Should I withhold it and put it on another post?  Admittedly, there's still some cliche here, but I could simply write another line below saying, "please remove [cliche] and repost the same adventure."  And CGPT will.  Instantly.  Be afraid.  Very afraid.


Title: "Shadows of the Guild"

Adventure Overview: In the bustling guild-neighborhood of Budapest, a web of intrigue, politics, and moral dilemmas entangles the players. This D&D adventure is set in an urban environment, focusing on complex social dynamics and the consequences of difficult choices, while still providing opportunities for treasure.

Plot Hook: The players find themselves in Budapest, a thriving city known for its diverse guilds and merchant factions. They receive a cryptic message from an old acquaintance, Lucian, who urgently requests their help in a matter of great importance. Lucian has been involved in a clandestine guild, and his life is now in danger due to certain sensitive information he possesses.

Key Locations:

Guild-Neighborhood: A bustling district with numerous guild halls, merchant stalls, and inns. Each guild has its own interests and secrets, and alliances are ever-shifting.

Lucian's Safehouse: A hidden location where Lucian is hiding. He provides the players with vital information about the situation and his adversaries.

Market Square: A central hub of activity, filled with merchants and townsfolk. Here, players can gather information, buy supplies, and interact with various NPCs.

Guild Halls: Each guild has its headquarters, including the powerful Merchant's Guild, the secretive Thieves' Guild, and the influential Mages' Guild. Players may need to navigate the politics of these guilds.

Plot Progression:

Lucian's Revelation: Lucian reveals that he possesses evidence of corruption within the city's ruling council, involving some of the most influential guilds. This information has made him a target, and he fears for his life.

Intrigue and Alliances: The players must navigate the complex web of guild politics, forming alliances with certain factions and making enemies of others. They may uncover hidden agendas, power struggles, and betrayals within the guild-neighborhood.

Moral Choices: The players face a series of moral dilemmas as they gather evidence of corruption and injustice. They must decide whether to expose the truth, potentially destabilizing the city, or keep the information hidden to preserve the status quo.

The Confrontation: As the players get closer to exposing the corruption, they become targets themselves. They must confront Lucian's adversaries, who will stop at nothing to protect their secrets.

Resolution: The adventure's outcome is shaped by the players' choices. They may choose to expose the corruption, leading to significant changes in the city's leadership, or they might opt to preserve the delicate balance, allowing the guilty to remain in power.

Endings:

Reform: If the players expose the corruption, they trigger a series of reforms, and the city undergoes a period of transition.

Status Quo: If the players choose to protect the city's stability, they may receive rewards from powerful figures while leaving the corruption untouched.

Personal Gain: Alternatively, the players can manipulate the situation for their personal benefit, gaining wealth or influence at the expense of others.

This D&D adventure in the guild-neighborhood of Budapest is built around intrigue, political maneuvering, and difficult moral choices, with opportunities for treasure woven into the narrative. The urban setting challenges players to use their imagination and diplomacy to navigate complex social dynamics while avoiding the predictable dungeon crawl.


What's hilarious is that the answer is essentially a sandbox, not a straightforward adventure.  It's loaded down with "if the players choose" rather than "the players have to."

Naturally, what concerns people on first glance is the argument that it's "not very good."  Of course it isn't.  On the other hand, it's a million times better than anything we're going to get out of google or randomly searching D&D blogs and videos ... because this gets so much closer to what we wanted.  Again, with google: precise input, hugely varied inconsistent output.  CGPT: haphazard, complicated input, precise output.  Which is better?

Moreover, the above is a first draft.  No one expects the first pass at something to be good.  Here, we can either address the writing itself, or we can simply return to the program ... which remembers our last search term (unlike google) so that all we need to say is, "expand and elaborate on Lucian's safehouse; pay attention to the details it would have in the 15th century."

Ready?

Certainly, in a 15th-century setting in Budapest, Lucian's safehouse would be a hidden and well-concealed location, designed to offer him protection and anonymity in a bustling city filled with intrigue. Here's an expanded and elaborated description of Lucian's safehouse:

Location: Tucked away in the heart of the guild-neighborhood, Lucian's safehouse is situated within a labyrinthine network of narrow cobblestone streets, nestled between tall, centuries-old buildings. The safehouse itself is unassuming, blending seamlessly with its surroundings, making it nearly impossible to detect without insider knowledge.

Exterior: The building housing the safehouse is a four-story structure made of sturdy medieval stone and timber. It features a modest wooden door with intricate carvings, providing an entrance that draws minimal attention. A small, weathered sign nearby reads "Antiquarian Bookshop," serving as a clever guise to deter prying eyes.

Interior Layout:

Ground Floor (Bookshop Facade): The ground floor serves as a legitimate-looking bookshop, cluttered with dusty tomes, parchment scrolls, and faded maps. A counter with an old-fashioned abacus hints at a potential shopkeeper. This façade ensures that casual observers see nothing out of the ordinary.

Hidden Passage: Behind a concealed bookshelf at the rear of the bookshop lies a hidden passage. By pulling on a specific book, the shelf swings open to reveal a dimly lit corridor leading deeper into the safehouse.

Main Living Quarters: The safehouse's main chamber is a cozy living area. Rough-hewn wooden beams support the low ceiling, and a large fireplace dominates one wall, providing warmth and ambiance. The room is furnished with simple, sturdy wooden furniture, including a table, chairs, and a comfortable bed covered with embroidered linens. The walls are adorned with tapestries depicting ancient myths and legends.

Study and Library: A smaller chamber adjacent to the living area is Lucian's study and library. Shelves line the walls, filled with meticulously organized books, scrolls, and parchments. A large, ornate desk occupies the center of the room, covered with quills, ink pots, and maps. A window with heavy curtains overlooks the bustling streets below.

Secret Room: A hidden chamber within the safehouse contains Lucian's most sensitive documents and personal effects. Accessible only by a concealed door behind a tapestry, this room is protected by additional security measures, such as traps and a locked chest.

Basement: Below the safehouse lies a concealed basement. It is well-stocked with food, water, and supplies to sustain Lucian during extended periods of hiding. A trapdoor beneath a rug leads to a subterranean escape route that connects to the city's labyrinthine sewer system.
    • Security Measures: The main door is reinforced with heavy iron bars and multiple locks.
    • Each window is fitted with sturdy shutters to block prying eyes.
    • The hidden passage is cleverly designed, with a mechanism that prevents accidental discovery.
    • Traps are placed at key entry points within the safehouse to deter intruders.
    • A hidden cache of weapons and defensive tools is strategically placed.
Lucian's safehouse, in this 15th-century setting, is a well-concealed sanctuary where he can gather evidence, plan his next moves, and seek refuge from those who wish him harm. Its unassuming exterior and cleverly hidden features make it an ideal covert location for navigating the intrigue of Budapest's guild-neighborhood.


Allow me to remind the reader that we pay upwards of $40-60 for this level of detail.  Though it should be pointed out that no bookshops existed in the 15th century, as the printing press was invented in the 15th century; and certainly no "antiquarian" books.  CGPT does have a time problem this way; but a different front could be asked for and gotten.  Instead, however, I'm going to ask the following: "Can you give me a list of traps placed at the key entry points?"

Certainly! Here's a list of traps that Lucian may have placed at key entry points within his safehouse in the 15th-century setting:
    • Pressure Plate with Dart Trap: A hidden pressure plate triggers a mechanism that shoots small, poisoned darts from concealed holes in the walls or floor when someone steps on it.
    • Tripwire Alarm Bell: A thin, nearly invisible tripwire is stretched across a doorway or corridor. When tripped, it releases a loud ringing bell, alerting Lucian to an intruder's presence.
    • Falling Net Trap: Disguised as a section of the ceiling or wall, a net is released to drop onto intruders, entangling them and making escape difficult.
    • Hidden Pitfall: A concealed pitfall trap is triggered when someone steps on a specific floor tile. It leads to a chamber below or simply creates a fall hazard, possibly causing injury.
    • Gas Emission Vents: Opening a door or entering a particular room activates a mechanism that releases a non-lethal but disorienting gas, impairing intruders' vision and mobility.
    • Blade Swing Trap: A tripwire or pressure plate activates a pendulum with sharp blades. When triggered, the pendulum swings across a doorway or corridor, potentially harming anyone in its path.
    • False Bookcase: A section of a bookcase is rigged to swing open suddenly, revealing a concealed passage behind it. This can be used for quick escapes or as a surprise barrier.
    • Concealed Arrow Slits: Small, narrow openings in the walls near entry points house hidden crossbows. When triggered, the crossbows fire a volley of arrows in the direction of the intruder.
    • Lock-Activated Spike Pit: Attempting to pick a locked door can activate a trap that opens a hidden floor compartment, revealing a pit filled with sharpened spikes.
    • Alchemical Fire Trap: A vial of alchemical fire or other incendiary substance is rigged to break when an intruder opens a door. This creates a fiery hazard in the immediate area.
    • Water Release: Triggering a switch or pressure plate causes a torrent of water to flood the corridor or room, potentially dousing torches and extinguishing light sources.
    • False Stairs: Certain stairs within the safehouse are rigged to collapse or become slippery when someone climbs them, causing intruders to lose their balance.
These traps are designed to deter and impede intruders, offering Lucian an advantage in defending his safehouse. They are not necessarily lethal but aim to disrupt and delay unauthorized access, giving Lucian time to react and protect himself.

At which point we can try, "How do D&D rules function with relation to the pressure plate with dart trap?"

In Dungeons & Dragons (D&D), the functioning of a pressure plate with a dart trap typically involves the use of game mechanics to determine if a character triggers the trap and how it affects them. Here's how it works in the context of the game:

1. Detection: A character's ability to detect the pressure plate is determined by their Passive Perception score, or they can actively search for traps by making a Wisdom (Perception) check. The Dungeon Master (DM) sets the difficulty (DC) for this check, depending on how well the trap is concealed.

2. Triggering the Trap: If a character steps on the pressure plate without detecting it, the trap is triggered. The DM decides when and how the dart trap activates, depending on the narrative and the circumstances.

3. Saving Throw: When the trap is triggered, affected characters may be required to make a Dexterity saving throw. The DC is set by the DM based on the trap's design and complexity. A successful save allows the character to avoid or reduce the trap's effects.

4. Damage: If the character fails the saving throw, they typically take damage from the darts. The damage type and amount are determined by the DM and the trap's design. It can be piercing damage from the dart's impact.

5. Poison: If the dart trap is poisoned, characters who fail the saving throw might also be subject to poison damage or additional effects. The specifics of the poison's effects are determined by the DM.

6. Disarming: Characters with proficiency in Thieves' Tools or a similar skill might attempt to disarm the trap before it's triggered. This usually involves a Dexterity check using Thieves' Tools. A successful check disables the trap.

7. Avoiding the Trap: In some cases, characters might find a way to avoid the pressure plate altogether, such as by jumping over it or using a long pole to press it down from a distance. Creative solutions can be rewarded by the DM.

8. Narrative Impact: The DM should describe the trap's effects and the consequences of triggering it in a way that enhances the narrative and engages the players' imaginations.

Remember that D&D is a flexible game, and the exact mechanics and consequences of a dart trap can vary based on the edition being played and the preferences of the DM. Communication between the DM and players is essential to ensure everyone understands how traps work in the specific campaign.


What does it take to convince?

Some rather sordid people have invented a gadget that saves hundreds upon hundreds of hours of game prep, tailors the adventure exactly to our specifications, teaches which questions to ask and which ways to expand on the knowledge given, and even gives guidelines on how to run the procedure in the game ... at the speed of typing a sentence, so that if you have to ask the question IN GAME, you can get your answer instantly.  So not only does it do your prep work for you, it's your extra DM on the side while you're running.

Are you going to turn your back on that?

This is, I think, a good time for the comments on this blog to be turned off; it means that some other person's prejudices aren't likely to affect the answers of anyone who wants to email me.  This is a revolutionary upheaval to everything in D&D ... sitting there on a shelf, gathering dust, because a media that's fast becoming obsolete doesn't like it.

_____

If you wish to comment, please write questions, ideas or opinions to alexiss1@telus.net and they will be posted on Saturdays.

If you wish to make a donation to Patreon, it will be greatly appreciated and help with costs for illustrating the Streetvendor's Guide.

Tuesday, August 29, 2023

Hand Wringing and Pearl Clutching

Why is slavery in a role-playing game a bad idea?

Answer:

Incorporating slavery as a theme or element in a role-playing game (RPG) can be a highly sensitive and controversial topic for a variety of reasons. Here are some of the key points to consider:

Historical Context: Slavery has been a tragic and deeply traumatic part of human history. It was marked by immense suffering, abuse, and violations of human rights. Many people find it offensive and disrespectful to trivialize or romanticize such a serious and painful topic in a game setting.

Emotional Impact: Slavery can evoke strong emotions in players, including anger, sadness, and discomfort. Role-playing games are often played for enjoyment and escapism, and incorporating such a heavy topic can disrupt the overall tone and atmosphere of the game, making it difficult for players to have a positive experience.

Ethical Concerns: Addressing slavery in a game can raise ethical questions about the portrayal of sensitive topics and the potential for perpetuating harmful stereotypes or misrepresentations. Games have the power to influence perceptions and attitudes, so it's important to handle such topics with care and sensitivity.

Trauma and Triggers: Many players may have personal connections to slavery due to their own cultural or family histories. Depicting slavery in a game can be triggering for these individuals, causing them distress and negatively impacting their experience.

Lack of Nuance: Games often have limited scope to explore complex historical and social issues like slavery in a nuanced manner. Reducing such a profound topic to game mechanics and storytelling elements might oversimplify the reality and significance of the historical events.

Potential for Misinterpretation: Players might not fully grasp the historical context and gravity of slavery, leading to misunderstandings or inappropriate reactions. This could further contribute to trivializing the topic or causing unintended offense.

Distracting from the Fantasy Setting: Many RPGs are set in fantasy worlds with their own lore, cultures, and conflicts. Introducing a real-world historical theme like slavery might feel out of place or disrupt the consistency of the game world.

Alternatives for Conflict: While conflict is a key element in many RPGs, there are numerous ways to create engaging and compelling stories without resorting to such a sensitive topic. Developing conflicts around other themes can allow for meaningful gameplay without the risk of offending or triggering players.

If game developers do choose to incorporate sensitive topics like slavery, it's important to approach them with extreme caution and respect. This might involve thorough research, consultation with experts, and providing proper context and content warnings to players. In many cases, however, it's advisable to consider other narrative elements that allow for engaging and thought-provoking gameplay without resorting to the use of such a contentious subject.


The above answer was not written by me, or by a traditional "politically correct" pundit.  Admit it, that's where you, dear reader, expected it to come from.  As you skipped to the bottom, you looked for the name of the writer, expecting you'd smile upon recognising the name of the writer.

Except that the source is chatGPT, in answer to my question.  And lest the reader think that chatGPT is way, way off the mark of what the "real world" thinks, I give you this link from reddit.

The program sounds like a PC pundit because it's been deliberately fashioned so as to respect "sensitive and controversial" subjects, since any insensitivity to human beings would be seen as a good reason for banning the program.  The creators wouldn't like that.

Thus, the first two paragraphs are very clear about the key arguments against any mention of things that are culturally "traumatic."  People were hurt; this is something that shouldn't happen any more.

But note the context established: role-playing games either "trivialize" or they "romanticise."  They're played for people to "enjoy" and "escape."  Things that are traumatic, therefore, have no place in an RPG.

YET, "games have the power to influence."  Do books and films not also have the power to influence?  Are not these things sometimes used to discuss slavery directly, even demonstrate the perpetration of slavery in dramatic terms?  Are we saying that these, too, should refrain from addressing the subject — because I'm pretty sure that's exactly what either chatGPT or the politically correct pundit would tell me, if I asked the question.  Without going down that road too far, let me just say that there's been a steadily growing effort — largely on the part of Google, since taking control of the internet — to shut down and close down any search for subject material that isn't considered defacto "approved."

This is not how scholarship is intended to work.  But that is how the internet views it.

Note the argument that a role-playing game simply hasn't the capacity to deal with slavery in a "nuanced" manner.  This, given the game's "power to influence perceptions and attitudes," clearly suggests that the only way that slavery can possibly be depicted through an RPG is to glory in it, to revel in the practice, to trot it out like a prize greyhound ready to run.  Games, the reader will take note, might oversimplify the reality.

Might.

Wow, is that word carrying a lot of water in this context.  Dear reader, no matter what you think, no matter your interpretation of what capacities you have as a DM, don't play with this stuff because it might go awry.  Oh crumpets and cakes, we simply can't have people oversimplifying slavery, not in this culture!  Oh lawd, close the gates and man the walls, someone in this culture might oversimplifying a brutal, traumatic part of human history.

Thank gawd we don't include such subjects in RPGs, or else that might happen somehow in human culture.


I play with a group of people who are fully capable of grasping the historical context of slavery, because they're educated.  Because the consistency of MY slave world is deeply invested in real-world historical themes, it's the absence of slavery that would seem out of place.  I approach my game with level of seriousness that yes, would make many people uncomfortable.  These people aren't welcome to come play ... specifically for the reason that they see an RPG merely in terms of "enjoy" and "escape."

What I want to "enjoy" is a group of people who don't live in fear to discuss the hard subjects; who don't allow their feelings to stand in the way of examining and considering matters of importance and far-reaching consequences.  I strive to "escape" the company of stupid people who use arguments like misinterpretation and distress engendered in their family's history as reasons NOT to engage in  sensitive topics.

I like sensitive subjects ... precisely because expecting players to adapt to subjects that stir an adult's consciousness provides a great deal of satisfaction.  As adults, we've already encountered these themes; they're part and parcel with things we already sweat about.  It provides much better content to mine where building conflict occurs.  Certainly better than a group of adults pretending they can get their blood up over kiddie themes like girding up a sword to go underground and fight stick figures.

As a final point ... why use chatGPT as a foil?  Straw man, anyone?

Because, if the reader understands how chatGPT works — it is a random program, designed to comb the net for a common response engendered by the source material of millions of websites, with no brain of its own — it's really the best foil.  It's better than one pundit.  It's the vast community's expression, the deadbrained amorphous blob arising from a mass of largely uneducated sources who have written something despite knowing next to nothing.  It's the burbling jabberwock, coming all over itself.  Though it can't be killed, it's already dead.  It can only be made more and more insensate with time, as it struggles to produce an answer to things that won't offend any body.

Which can only be, as always, no answer at all.