Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Improbable Weapon User

"Mac Gyver Rule:" Other than for the protagonists, your choice of weapons is not limited to the prosaic guns, clubs, or swords. Given appropriate skills, you can cut a bloody swath across the continent using gloves, combs, umbrellas, megaphones, dictionaries, sketching tablets — you name it, you can kill with it. Even better, no matter how surreal your choice of armament, every store you pass will just happen to stock an even better model of it for a very reasonable price. Who else is running around the world killing people with an umbrella?


I had to write this post, if for no other reason than to show this brilliant panel from Girl Genius from many weeks ago.
 
I must start by being clear about the use of improbable weapons ... I'm all for it.  If no other weapon is available, I'd like to see more players taking advantage of what's immediately available: bar stools, small farm animals, 50' lengths of rope (bundled, of course), backpacks, filled money belts ... whatever.  If one does not happen to have a hand-axe, because its already been thrown in this combat, a full wine bottle will do.  I think its a shame that my characters don't resort to these things more often.
 
That said, there's a good reason why.  In reality, a thrown wine bottle doesn't aim for shit.  It doesn't turn like, say, a balanced knife.  This is true for every kind of makeshift weapon.  Good for that specific moment, when you need something, and that bassinet is very handy.  Not so good for the long haul.  The 'Shoveler' would be replacing his shovels on such a steady basis that it would make him think twice about that being his weapon of choice.  The same goes for continued use of cricket bats, hockey sticks, golf clubs and so on.  Yes, lovely weapons when used against unarmed people.  A golf club's survival time against a traditional long sword?  About one swing.
 
A great deal of effort is put into making weapons so that they are easy to handle, so that they balance well and so that they deliver a good, solid blow that the wielder doesn't feel.  Yes, a frying pan will open an enemy's skull, no question.  It's also damn hard to hold onto as a parrying weapon, its reach is a little short for convenience sake and - let's face it - the thing is hard to hang on your belt.
 
While I might be for immediate use of anything that comes to hand, I would put obstacles in the way of a character who decided to take 'kittens with sharpened claws' as a proficiency.  It would be all very interesting, no doubt.  And very funny.  I'm sure the character's enemies would be suprised ... just long enough to roll it over in their minds as their balanced spears impaled the character's organs.
 
This is about all I can say about this subject.  I know others bend towards the less prosaic, as the quote says ... but give me a mace any day.  Sort of like melting down the weight of the frying pan into an aerodynamic ball, fixing it to a longer stick and adding points.
 
Wait, that's more than 'sort of like,' isn't it?

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

"No, Kid, not like that!"

I chanced on the weekend to be watching an original series episode of Star Trek, "Bread and Circuses."  And as I listened to Flavius Maximum bellowing at Dr. McCoy to keep his weapon up and to improve his stance, something occurred to me ...

Two rules I've not mucked with in the last thirty years are the combat tables as written in the AD&D Dungeon Master's Guide, and weapon proficiencies.  I haven't simply because there's nothing wrong with them.  I have no need to reinvent the telephone.  For those gentle readers not overly familiar with them, I'll need to quickly sketch out the important details.

First and foremost, there are four combat tables for the players (we'll skip the monster tables, those are not relevant to this discussion).  Included is the fighter table, the cleric's table, the thieves' table and the mages' table.  At first level, fighters and clerics (along with paladins, rangers, druids and monks) hit AC 5 with a 15.  Thieves and mages (along with assassins and illusionists) hit AC 5 with a 16.  The tables don't specify bards, but I rate them on the thieves table (there must be some note in the Player's Handbook about what bards fight as, but since the bard there is seriously fucked up, I wouldn't pay attention anyway).

As fighters reach 3rd level, their combat proficiency on their table jumps two, so that they now hit AC 5 with a 13.  Clerics do not experience a similar jump until 4th level.  Thieves get their jump at 5th level (needing a 14 to hit AC 5) and mages get their jump at 6th.

In other words, fighters improve every second level (3rd, 5th, 7th, etc.), clerics every third level (4th, 7th, 10th, etc.), thieves every fourth level and mages every fifth.  This is obviously easier to understand if you're looking at the tables in the DMG.

I know that many people prefer to string out the combat improvement level-by-level, so that the fighter gets a jump every level, instead of every other.  Thus, the fighter would hit AC 5 with a 14 at 2nd level, with 13 at 3rd level, with 12 at 4th level and so on.  There's merit to this.  I've never done it because of the annoyance factor of keeping the separate divisions for all the character classes in my head during a combat (the way it is now, I can calculate any player's to hit chance from the first level fighter's).  I've also not had players who cared that much.  There's a pleasant feeling of achievement knowing that the player has reached a certain level and gains a better table ... I don't feel there's much to be gained in reducing that improvement by scattering it through the levels.  Others feel differently.  They're entitled to run it their way.  I'm only explaining here how I do it, because its relevant to the actual point of this post.  (Alternate combat systems are not, so please don't feel the need to explain yours)

Proficiencies, as I have always understood them, allow for a set number of weapons for the characters to use effectively, according to their class.  Fighters start with 4; paladins and rangers start with 3; most classes start with 2 and mages and illusionists start with 1.  More are gained as one increases level.

The Unearthed Arcana began a precedent where players could improve their hit ability by doubling up - or trebling up - on proficiencies.  To begin with, this never made sense to me on a rational level; I presume that to be proficient in a weapon meant already that you had trained with it to the point where you were the best you could be.  A professional musician who learns to play piano practices 8 hours a day already.  How exactly the pianist improves their piano playing by not taking up the oboe is a mystery to me.  Once the pianist reaches their penultimate ability, they don't lose it because they go to the beach for a few weeks ... they may have to limber up upon returning, but they do rise right back to their peak form after some effort.  Therefore, a pianist would have time to learn the oboe ... or anything else ... without that time interfering with their ability to play.  But the pianist wouldn't improve if they decided to, say, practice 16 hours a day.

To me, a fighter is fighting as best they can at first level, no matter how many proficiencies they happen to have.  But that is not logic that touches everyone, and the contrary rule was just too sweet for power players to ignore.  I'm not certain, not being steeped in 2e and 3e tradition, but I seem to remember hearing that this was a practice that was carried about as far as it could go.  In any case, I don't play it.  A new weapon proficiency, in my game, means a new weapon ... not the same weapon over and over.

With these perameters established then, let's return to Dr. McCoy.

I've seen other depictions of one individual coaching another in the heat of a battle, or as a trainer speaking to a novice ... and added to that many personal experiences with baseball, football and hockey coaches shouting at me from the sidelines in order to make me a better player.  So why not a similar rule in D&D?

I could see it working this way:  if a particular character fought on a higher combat table, and was in fact coaching a character using a weapon in which the 'mentor' was proficienct, the character fighting upon a lesser table ought to get a +1 to hit.  That is, IF the mentor fought on a table that gave him at least 2 better than the lesser character, and IF the lesser character was within a certain distance ... say, ten feet.  That could be shortened to 5 feet if the mentor was also in combat, and shouting things over their shoulder, or increased to 20 or 30 feet if the mentor was doing nothing else at the time except coaching.

It would be an interesting rule to build up comaradarie between players, with the newer players choosing to take the same weapons as higher levels in a party, and then wanting to fight side by side with those higher levels in order to increase their effectiveness.  At the same time, higher levels might be more tolerant of having the lower levels around if they can bestow some of their fighting prowess.

I think there would probably have to be other limits: a mentor could hardly coach more than one player at a time; and if a mentor was critically wounded, or in some other way severely tried, the lesser character would have to be on their own at that point.  But from a roleplaying point of view, this offers a strong sentiment.  The lesser player, suddenly without a tutor, must do their best anyway ... and killing the beast handily!  Only to hear, of course, the mentor on the ground, bleeding, shouting at him not to strike for the chest.

- "What in hell were you thinking?"
- "But I killed it!"
- "You were lucky, kid!  Listen to what I tell you."

What's also interesting, I think, is that the application does not need to apply only to fighters.  A high level assassin versed in long sword ought to be able to coach a low level fighter; a cleric using a quarterstaff ought to be able to coach a mage.  The only criteria for who can coach who has to be the ascendant combat ability, with the stipulation that it be a proficient weapon - and NOT the class of either the mentor or the student.

Dr. McCoy, after all, obviously wasn't a fighter.

Monday, February 7, 2011

Testify

This is the sort of post that could lose me followers.


Last week, Cyclopeatron came out with his list of top RPG blog performers for February, and followed that up with a post arguing that follower number is a poor predictor of blog popularity. I don't dispute the arguments made in that post, nor even in the comments afterwards. Many people brought up the point that many followers are obtained by the tit-for-tat method (I'll follow your blog if you'll follow mine), and that many followers are themselves creators of blogs. That got me thinking about my own blog list, and the sociological implications thereof.

But before I can start with the numbers, I have to make a confession. I don't "follow" anyone's blog. I have blogs in my links list, yes. And I update that list regularly. But I have not yet hit the follower button on anyone's blog, ever. I really don't know if anyone has noticed this. I assumed somebody would before now ... I'm quite surprised that, with all the things I've been accused of, this hasn't come up.

There's no particular reason I don't follow. At the beginning of the feature I just couldn't think of a reason to follow anyone's site since I regularly went there off my own list or from punching up the address from memory. I'd be bored, I'd remember I hadn't been to such-and-such a blog for a few days, and I'd go there. I always figured that if I didn't remember to go to a blog, it was probably because I really didn't like what I'd been reading there. I don't have to be reminded to go to xkcd.com every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I live for that shit.

Later on, as the number of followers began to become a kind of cachet, I began to recognize that following was more than just having a convenience for me, it was a statement of my approval. This was a problem - I don't approve of things all that easily. The gentle reader might have noticed. For me, stamping a blog with my name and picture was tantamount to giving a testimonial ... and while others might not think it's much of a testimonial, it means a lot to me.

As I thought about it, my feelings were that the better kind of testimonial I could offer was to talk about other people's blogs on my blog - in addition to the blog list. When someone says something there that I like, I'll sit and write an entire post about it. If this drives people to the other person's blog, so much the better. Driving people to smart blogs is a more useful testimonial, I think, than my little stamp on their blog that can only be read by others who have already found their way there.

All this may seem very trite and supercilious, but that's the way I roll.

Thinking about it in reverse, I tend to presume that people who want to follow my blog do so because they approve of me; I think virtually everyone thinks of it this way. In my particular case, I think its harder for people to approve of me because I'm such a fucking asshole. If you consign your pic onto my blog, you're not just telling me that you like the blog, you're telling other people. Some of those out there who did follow me for a long time, through many firefights, have since dropped away ... out of boredom, possibly, or disgust. I'm not an easy fellow to like. I'm blunt. I'm inconsiderate of people who say things I think are stupid. I hold myself to a high standard. Those are three things that are very much contrary to the behavior of most everyone I meet.

Right now, if the gentle reader is reading this, and the gentle reader is a follower, the gentle reader ought to be reconsidering the decision to do so. Good. We are all far too apathetic about the commitments we make to things. We are too willing to let things slide, to leave things the way they are because its too much trouble to change them. How much the better that the gentle reader remakes the decision today, and everyday they read this blog? Better for me, since I know then that every person who does follow is a true reader, and not just flotsam and jetsam that has drifted into the present from three years ago, without the slightest inclination to read anything I'm writing today.

For now, I want to put all that aside. If it loses me followers, so be it. This is probably the most polite I've been for several months - it would be ironic if I lost more followers with honey than with vinegar.

And now with some numbers. Cyclopeatron's post and comments section got me wondering: how many of my followers did have blogs?

Up front, out of 168 followers that I have as of writing this post (I can identify two of the 170 followers shown as duplicates), 42 do not have any image. None of these non-image followers have a blog, with the exception of one individual - and the blog that individual possesses does not have a single post on it. So there's a pattern there.

Of the remaining 126 followers, 65 have blogs listed on their profiles. Although some of the profiles do not have blogs shown, though I know that follower to have a blog. I can't tell which is which, so if your profile does not have your blog on it, I'm not counting it among the 65.

52 of those followers with blogs have blogs that are "fantasy-based." This is a wider judgment on my part than Cyclopeatron's old school gaming base, so I have far less followers who would fit on Cyclopeatron's list. With that list in mind, I'd guess I'm followed by about 25% of blog-possessors who write about OD&D. A very telling statistic. Of the 52, six haven't posted anything since September 1st, and one blog has no posts whatsoever. But it has a fantasy gamer type name.

I didn't read all the blogs in depth, but very, very few of them mentioned 4e in any capacity. Most of those who are following me seem to play a wide variety of games, and more than half are in the process of producing some new world/rule system. Where the hell are you people with regards to the Wiki?

10 of the fantasy bloggers also have a blog which is not related to D&D. 23 of my followers altogether have non-fantasy blogs. A lot of them seem to be about cooking. I should write something about cooking in a D&D world.

7 of my followers possess private blogs of some kind. Obviously, I have no idea what those blogs cover.

And I have three followers who write blogs which are not written in English. One appears to be Finnish (possibly someone connected to Jim of LotFP), one appears to be Spanish, and one I think is Polish and not Czech ... but that's a guess.

Finally, this leaves 61 followers with no identifiable on-line presence at all. On top of them, there are quite a number of regular commenter's who are not followers of mine, but who somehow manage to find their way here on a regular basis regardless.

Bully for them. The whole follower mystique has been created by Blogger for their own purposes. I don't measure this blog's success by the number it generates. It is too easy for an individual to hit the button, follow and then never show any sign of interest again. Going through my own list, I found a lot of people I haven't heard from in a long time, and quite a few I've never heard from. I have no idea if I'm reaching any of these people. If they really cared about what I was saying, they'd have said something. They'd have disagreed with something I'd written by now.

I can't learn anything from mimes. A thousand mimes provide me no value at all. If the dialectic is to work at all, people have to tell me when I'm wrong.

Wiki, February 7, 2011

Well, we get down to the dregs of the maps now.  Most of those I'm posting are empty, blocked out areas for the day when I'm ready to fill in the details.  And since those empty maps represent areas of the Sahara desert, we are talking really empty.

The principal reason why these maps are even sketched out is so that I could be certain that the map numbers would start with the first map, 01, falling on the 0 degree meridian.  At any rate, if you consider each map is about 324,000 square miles, or the areas of Texas and Oklahoma combined, the size of the Sahara quickly becomes evident.

The maps have names associated with those parts of the Sahara they cover:  Adrar, Azbine, Tibesti, the Libyan Desert, the Nile Bend and the Nubian Desert.  On the other side of the Red Sea, there is this map of western Arabia, titled Mecca.  Note with the last that the borders simply stop where the desert begins - there is no real authority further on ... which draws my attention, at least, to those scattered hexes deep in the desert, representing oases.  Interesting adventuring there.

I am adding one more map, which would fit at the tail end of last week's post ... the unmade area around Bhutan.  The map has made its 90-degree turn here - the orange line would represent the 90th meridian.  This map should start to flesh out in the next three or four months, along with the unmade F 14.  I discovered that Assam stretches even further east than what's been graphed out here.

A last contribution would be a couple of cities pages, one for the Duchy of Savoy (Italian provinces only, I haven't remotely started France yet), and one for a number small states scattered throughout the maps, from A to E.

I'm sorry I haven't got more.  I am pushing the other project for all that I'm worth.  I hope to begin game testing in less than three weeks.  I have my own group lined up, and hopefully another with players who are less sympathetic to my playing style.  I hope they will be merciless.  Another group in Seattle will also be testing the cards.  If anyone is in the Calgary area, and wants to get a glimpse, I suggest they email me at alexiss1@telus.net.

I've had some bites for putting more content on the wiki, but nothing has yet materialized.  I continue to encourage world designers to get their feet wet.  There's no need to produce the sort of material I'm producing ... monsters, spells, dungeons, floorplans, artwork and other materials will be appreciated.  Contact me at the email above if you are interested.

Friday, February 4, 2011

A Sample

Living, breathing ... even dreaming this game design is starting to affect me.  I felt a distinct level of euphoria last night, something I can't recall feeling for some years now, since last performing.  It is, I recognize, a peculiar sense of accomplishment that goes beyond finishing a chore.  I find it hard to describe.

At any rate, I am happy with how I perceive the designed cards are looking.  I have 32 individual cards made to date, and am producing steadily.  I expect to begin play-testing in three weeks; part of the play test will be to see if players grow attached to the cards themselves, as that is an important element of the interaction mechanic.

I've selected what I think would be the most baffling card I've produced (to those who haven't had the system explained), just to give a glimpse.  Call it cruelty.  It's probably self-aggrandizement.  I can't seem to help it.  As I say, I'm in a state of euphoria.

This would be the front and the back of the same card.  The picture is stolen, as this is only a mock-up ... it will be great when the picture is one that I've paid to have drawn for it.


How's it look?

UPDATE:

As per Oddbit's suggestion:

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Optics

In this day and age of publish or perish history, it grows increasingly difficult to identify the turning point in the development of scientific theory.  Every scholar from the past made his or her minor contribution, and every contribution is embellished to the greatest degree by the tenure-hungry ... until finally the course of events is studded with unfamiliar names.  It becomes anybody’s guess who was responsible for what breakthrough – which supports the anti-Randian view that Isaac Newton’s steward was as wise and knowing as ol’ Isaac himself, and probably responsible for half the Principia Mathematica, though of course less well known.

Plunging into the subject of optics - even the history of optics - I soon found myself submerged, and waves washing many feet over my head.  I am no theoretical physicist.  I cannot explain the principles of refraction, or how it is accomplished by the eye.  I cannot offer the gentle reader a comprehensive and systematic analysis of optical theory.  I simply wouldn't know where to begin.  In any case, I fail to see where any of that would be applied to D&D ... but that could be the result of not understanding it.

I have been able to glean from sources that two significant leaps in optical 'theology' were made.  First, in a theory proposed by an Arab with the westernized name Alhazen (Ibn al-Haythem, early 11th century), derived from an understanding that every object reflected light in all directions ... but that we only saw the light which happened to be directly reflected into our eyes.  Furthermore, objects which were closer had a greater chance of reflecting light into our eyes than objects which were further away - and therefore objects which were further away appeared smaller to us, even though in reality they might be much bigger than objects which were close up.  Moreover, the color of the object was subject to inherent qualities of the object reflecting the light.

Second, that light could be refracted so that, depending on the position of the individual, different colors could be witnessed.  Theodoric of Freiberg proposed that light was "refracted,' and that as a beam of light changed direction it could produce specific colors depending upon the location of the viewer.  If the refracted beam of light did not directly enter the eye, then there would be no evidence of color; but if the refracted beam did directly enter the eye, the viewer could potentially see yellow, orange, red, green, blue ... and so on depending upon the exact location of the individual with respect to the refracted beam.  This effect was - is - most familiarly obtained through water droplets in the air, or what is called a 'rainbow.'  The rainbow does not cover the whole sky because it's appearance is due to a specific angle created by raindrops that convey the light falling to earth to 'change its direction' and meet your eye.  Believe me, this was heavy scientific knock-out theory in the 13th century.

It is, incidentally, the reason the sky is blue.

From these two leaps in optical theory (and at least a hundred minor leaps as described by historical science philosophers) would develop an understanding of perspective ... which in terms of Civilization IV, is the application of light mechanics that enables Astronomy.  Perspective is the application of mathematics to the visual angles produced by Alhazem's theory of reflected light.  To sum up briefly, being able to measure perspective allows painters and architects - along with a host of other professions - to copy reality with mathematical precision.  In addition, the mathematics of perpective allow us to build our own reality to exact specifications ... so that we can lay out how the interior of a building would look before it is constructed.  The exterior too, for that matter, along with groups of buildings, streets, civic defenses, roads, water systems, canals and so on, without end.

From a comprehension about the way we see things, we are able to construct things so that they will appear in the way we want to see them.  Such as an entire world.

Time to time, I receive a question about the maps I produce for my world along the lines that I could save myself time and effort by ripping off someone else's maps.  But as I write this post I am reminded that before I began to draw a single line of the maps themselves I calculated mathematically how the world ought to be hexed, how the various parts of the world would be plotted and to what degree the projection of the actual world would be skewed in order to manufacture the D&D world as I wanted it.  It occurs to me that in manufacturing my own world, I could not be restrained by the bias of others who before me manufactured their worlds ... and I would be restrained if I weakened and tried it 'the easy way.'  In fact, I would have wound up with something like a Frankenstein's monster ... slapped together pieces of other human beings, rather than a living entity in its own right.  Clearly, what I wanted to do was to give birth, and not to concatenate.

Perspective as a mathematical principle is an intrinsic part of the modern human experience (and the Roman experience before the understanding was lost).  The testament to its value stands in every direction the reader cares to look.  Whether the design is something to be done for a potentially existing thing, or something that will remain forever fanciful, the process of conception is the same:

Look at the whole 'thing' that is to be designed: world, dungeon, system, spreadsheet, what have you.  Start by expressing the thing's reality in mathematical principles - don't just draw random lines on a gridded page!

Take a dungeon, and consider those things an architect would consider.  How do the residents obtain the things they need in order to live?  What arrangements have been made to remove sewage.  Would the residents travel a long distance to reach their food, or would it be conveniently located to their sleeping quarters?  Where would be the logical location for storage?  How many storage locations would be required?  There should be particular caches for food and other supplies in defensive locations which could be locked down if necessary in case of invasion.

What are the arrangements in order to allow the residents to get to their weapons quickly?  How do they keep from being trapped inside one room, or inside one part of their lair, or inside the lair as a whole?  Rather than random secret doors that seem to provide convenient travel for players, how are the secret doors rationally placed to increase the power of the dwellers to defend their lair?  How are these doors set so that, once opened to allow access to invaders, they are buttressed to stop invaders from using them?

Instead of a dungeon that's created to be dull-dull-dull-dull-dull-action, how can a dungeon be created so that it hits an invading party from every side in a succession of designed consequences which first induce a party to leave, get out ... and only after that surrenders to the idea that these invaders will need to be killed?  How are the traps arranged so as to drive the party into the parts of the dungeon where we want them to be?  Like links on porn sites that dump children on the Disney page, how do the traps inside a lair repeatedly dump parties back outside, until they give up trying to get in?  How does the compartmentalization of the lair fool parties into thinking they've succeeded in killing everyone, when in fact they've only seen a small piece?

This may seem a long way from 'optics,' but really it is in how you see a thing that is to be created.  If your perspective as a DM is to create dungeons which are jolly funlands for players, how do you perceive that your world is anything but a cheap sham like any video game?  And if it is a party world for players, call it that.

But if your purpose is to create something that will stand the test of time - if you ache to build the Taj Mahal rather than Disney's Matterhorn - then change your perspective to that of the enemy, those who are actually building the lair for their purposes.

The technological leap in optics is not in the manipulation of light, but in the comprehension of it.  Puzzling through the substance of the world one bit of logic at a time, to the point where its possible to understand how a rainbow works even though it can never be touched, handled, moved or applied to anything.  It is lifting oneself up from the simplified mechanics of tossing rocks one upon the other and fabricating in your head how those rocks could be arranged so as to produce a standing, soaring tower into the clouds.

Stop looking at what the ground offers.  Close your eyes and picture what you want.

Now make it.

Monday, January 31, 2011

The Safe Option

Something that was mentioned with the post on players as walking tanks has come up before: in reference to the dangers that players face, Zzarkov's made the comment, "...Any soldier in a warzone always has their weapon in arm's reach."  And that's true - in a warzone.

My own experience is that many DMs do run their worlds with a warzone in mind - and that Z's comment is fair.  I don't blame him - he's reacting to a ridiculous standard for gaming.  I take umbrage with the idea that different settings only provide different opportunities for violence.  A cheese shop represents more than a chance to battle around large vats of curdled cream.  Horse-drawn wagons do not only exist so that fights can be had on the run.  Players stripping to the buff is not an opportunity for a unique combat experience.

Surprisingly, the vast majority of residents in my world hardly ever touch a weapon.  The citizens of towns live their lives eating as best they can, seeking to make a living, napping in the afternoon, entertaining themselves with small pleasures, falling in love, falling out of love and so on.  They would prefer that swordfights did not break out in their cheeseshops.  They would prefer that the wagon just gets to its destination with its cargo intact.  People strip fearlessly to a state of nudeness with alarming frequency, and yet have nothing to worry about.

It is almost certain in most worlds that if you send two zero level followers off on a 500-mile journey with a wagon and goods amounting to 500 g.p., they'll never arrive.  Surely something will attack them, bandits will grab the wagon and the party will be forced to kill every bandit to get their stuff back.  But in reality, the roads are filled with ordinary people driving valuable loads pretty much everywhere, for the most part reaching their destinations in good time with very little terror to show for it.  True, it is not particularly dramatic.  It is not a video game.  It's no Hollywood.  But if the trade system as written is expected to function rationally, than it must be so.

A player choosing to wander about the city for a day's shopping, taking in a show at the local ribald theatre, or a few drinks at the nearby street's watering hole shouldn't have to worry about being armored up or having their weapon close at hand.  There wouldn't be much point in having towns or spending money on walls to keep them safe if anarchy was the rule.  If fighting in latrines was so common that one had to take a weapon along, weak, fearful people would be dropping dead in the streets from constipation.  My god ... what parent would allow their 7-year-old child to make their dangerous way to the privy at 3 in the morning on their on?  This is a world of outdoor plumbing we're talking about here.  Surely the eating of recently relieved little boys and girls (you have to get them after they go, the meat is sweeter) by ravenous monsters would depopulate whole areas.

If you're going to allow peoples in your world to live lives that produce children and families and goods, who can grow crops in the open or cut wood from the woods while separated from all others, you have to allow players to fearlessly walk about without their equipment continuously slapping their thighs.  If you want a higher intelligence of play, you have to concede that the vast majority of opportunities for a surprise fight have to go unused.  If you push for your players to relax in town, you have to give them a just reason to relax.  You have to pledge to yourself that IF there is some combat that might occur against players does happen in town, it should be telegraphed to the point that they have plenty of time to grab their weapons before the fight occurs.

In that other post that's linked above, I made a suggestion of attacking a player in the middle of marketing, to see what they would say about being armored and having their weapons.  I did not mean that you should actually make an attack.  I haven't done so in 30 years of play.  For me, buying stuff unhindered is an important part of the game.  The players have the right to feel safe at some point in their adventuring.  While I recognize that some DMs will argue for a thief to cut a player's purse during this period, I'd argue against the value of such a practice.  How many times, really, can it be done before it gets unbelievably tiresome for the player?  How much does it actually add to the game?  A few minutes of DM's folly, that's what I say.  Harassment, nothing more ... and in the scheme of things, not worth it.

There's more roleplaying to be gotten from a player interacting with the townspeople as a daily event than in five minutes of a thief's cliched theft.  There are greater plays to be made.

Tease

It is frustrating to be working on a project which I can't talk about online.  For my own sanity, however, I want to occasionally write out some of my thoughts and feelings, along with challenges I'm facing and puzzles I am sorting out - even if I can't talk about specifics.  I am talking about the interaction mechanic referred to and discussed on this blog up until ten days ago.  Contrary to one assessment at least, I have not burned out on the idea.  In fact, I have conceived of at least ten new elements affecting the epiphany I had, all of which seem to slide neatly and conveniently into the IMech's process.

These days, I tend to see the system as more of a conflict resolution than as an interactive mechanic.  This is not to say that the goal of the system is to be combative - only that various persons tend to move at cross-purposes to one another, and the system is intended to resolve that.  For example, John is in love with Mary, who may or may not be in love with John.  The resolution of that uncertainty can be an annoying thorn in the side of a DM.  The system I've conceived of solves it.

At this point, I have explained the idea to several very trusted people.  I have taken steps to have the idea copywritten, having printed out a description and mailed it to myself.  I've received the unopened mail and it will remain unopened.  From time to time I will be sending additional material to myself, as I have additional ideas.  Those people I have told have given me some good ideas, and have pointed out some challenging issues.  To date, no one has found a hole in the system.  I haven't found a hole myself.  It's tight and it ought to be dramatic.  My explaining it has shown people the drama.  It allows for party strategy and it creates situations where everything can hinge on one person - even the dumbest fighter in the party.  Conflicts can be resolved in three way situations, or any situation with any number of speakers.  I could conceivably have a dialogue between two armies that - eventually - resolved the conflict without anyone ever pulling a weapon.  Though that would be unlikely.  People tend to get angry when they're talked to.

The system is very flexible.  It allows parties who wish to roleplay to go on roleplaying, as I have created a series of cards which suggests the nature of the interaction without being a straight jacket.  For example, an individual could choose to Reason with his opponent; while the card indicates that the type of activity is one of using one's intellect, the exact words spoken are entirely left up to the player.  But the result allows a resolution to be determined, one way or the other.  Without getting too far into the meat of it, the idea I've had is a combination between cards and dice - which provides a much needed random element, which in turn serves to heighten the drama.

I began to realize during the formative stage that what was needed was a system that would have the same learning curve as, say, being taught how to wash dishes.  Yes, there are things to remember, about how to wipe the glasses, and what to wash first and what to wash last, and the difference between clean and dirty, and how hot the water should be and so on.  But after awhile, there really isn't anything new to learn about dishes.  After awhile, you don't get better at washing the dishes.  After awhile, the dishes just get clean.

This is not to say that the system I'm offering is as dull as cleaning dishes.  Only that, after a certain point, anyone can play.  Unlike a lot of systems, the process does not get dominated by the smartest, most innovative player at the table.  Combat in D&D is that way.  You don't get smarter at rolling the d20 to hit.  After a certain point, you're subject to the result of the die no matter how smart you are.

That said, I wanted to finish up by describing what sorts of interactions between peoples I wanted to solve.  Through most of my previous discussions, I used things like bribing a guard.  I want it said that there are many more possibilities.

One that was suggested last night to me was the possibility of resolving a court-room drama.  Between the judge, the prosecution and the defense, how is the jury influenced exactly if the game comes down to the DM and the players roleplaying the scene?  Chances are, as things stand now, the DM would have to invoke a lot of relatively meaningless die rolls that would give unsatisfying results, particularly from a dramatic perspective.  The fellow who brought this up to me last night was astounded to realize my system solved that problem.

If a player decides that they want a princess to be in love with that player, how does he or she go about making it happen?  Usually, this would be resolved as die roll, one time only.  But suppose there was a system that allowed for the player's actions and efforts to eventually win over his or her intended?  I believe I have that.

What of a situation where a group of players decides to rouse a town against a rising disaster, natural or otherwise?  How do you determine how many people of the town believe the players, and which people resist?  Usually, the DM decides.  Instead, now, the system would decide, and the DM would have tools provided by that system that would possibly counteract the party, while the party would have tools to counteract the DM.  And in a manner that was not subjective.

Suppose there's a situation where a player is faced with a lynch mob, and the player has a rope around his or her neck, and is allowed a last word.  What would be the chance of the player talking his or her way out of it at that point - without it being a deus ex machina?  Suppose that the exact way the player could succeed was set out in a rational, reasonable manner that every individual at the table could agree was fair?

I do realize I'm holding back this idea, and how much of a teaser this is.  At the present, the biggest issue facing me is the difficulty in finding quality artists in order to help fabricate the cards that are necessary for the creation of the game.  Writing out the rules and designing the cards is no picnic - but those are things I can do myself.  Art is another matter.  In any case, I hope to have something that I can deliver within six months: the end of July.  I ask the gentle reader to be patient for now.  If the development can continue apace, I can reveal the general principles of the system prior to its release, as knowing how the system works will certainly encourage card sales, and not the reverse.

Thank you for your patience.

Wiki, January 31, 2011

I have very little material to offer this week, since I have been working day and night on another project.  I knew that times like this were bound to come: there's only so much work that can be done in 7 days, and for some weeks the subject of the work is bound to be too long range for regular posting.

As always, I have three maps.  The list of maps on the map index page looks awfully impressive to me, even if a lot of them are only half done or less.  What I'm offering this week is the Indus Basin, the Himalayas and Nepal.  At present, these are the maps I'm working on right now.  When I have the time, I am half way through the researching of over 600 Indian cities, some of which I have plotted.  If you look at the bottom of the Nepal map, you can see where I've placed symbols to indicate which hexes would be part of various regions inside the modern day province of Uttar Pradesh.  During the time of the Moghuls, obviously, this province didn't exist ... it was divided into Rohilkhand, Bundelkhand, Awara and other entities.  Thankfully, my world takes place prior to the British arriving and really splitting up the country in their efforts to pit India against itself.  There were many fewer regions in 1650.

Has the gentle reader ever considered that people often want to set campaigns in China and Japan, but never in India?  Do they play D&D in India?  I've never heard tell of it.  Be interesting to know what sort of take they would have on the game.

That is it for the wiki.  I hope to have more next week, but we will have to see how things go.  And please still consider posting your own material.  Contact me at alexiss1@telus.net if you wish to do so.

Friday, January 28, 2011

Unusually Uninteresting Sight

Wow.  I haven't written one of these since last July.

"Just Nod Your Head And Smile:" No matter how big that big-ass sword is, you won't stand out in a crowd. Nobody ever crosses the street to avoid you or seems to be especially shocked or alarmed when a heavily armed gang bursts into their house during dinner, rummages through their possessions, and demands to know if they've seen a black-caped man.  People can get used to anything, apparently.

The above cliche certainly applies to hundreds of videogames produced in the last ten years, and mostly occurs because game designers feel that 'people' make nice scenary, but they're too much trouble to program.  I would argue that the cliche occurs to a greatly lessened degree in non-video RPGs ... but it still does occur.  Most parties, I think most any DM could argue, sincerely fail to recognize what they must look like to NPCs.

What player doesn't argue that their character is in full armor, along with every weapon in their personal arsenal, when they drop down to the local tavern for a drink or two?  Yes, that's right, every individual sitting at the bar is in plate mail, shield on their arm, bristling with three or four weapons - including a four-foot long heavy crossbow on their back - just in case a fight breaks out.  And the bartender, obviously, doesn't mind at all.

Don't believe me?  Instigate a fight of some sort, involving a player character, when they're in the middle of shopping.  The moment you hear the fighter say, "I buy two weeks' rations," have a cow or something break loose in the market and make a rush.  Ask the fighter for AC, and I promise you he or she will include their shield.  Because, you know, it is permanently strapped to their arm, all the time.

It is a power player's headspace.  They don't want to get caught with their pants down, ever, and they don't like their armor class being even slightly below full power.  Attack them in their sleep, attack them while they're taking a crap behind a tree, attack them while they're bathing ... that armor will be no more than an arm's reach away.  Along with everything else they possess.  You just never know when you're going to need that scroll of protection against lycanthropes; it brings a special comfort to drum your fingers on the scroll case, day and night.

I can't blame the characters.  There's nothing worse than being attacked by six wereboars and having the DM point out that the scroll and case (along with your other scrolls) might either be in your saddle bag, hanging on a hook somewhere in the stable downstairs (we don't store it on the horse!), or possibly in one of the sacks in that pile of articles you stacked in the corner several hours ago ... and not exactly on hand at the moment.  Just about every player I've ever met would argue that no, they'd never  leave a magic item in some random location, even though they've had the item for two years of game time and they've never needed it.

Therefore, if the player is to be believed, they travel everywhere as a group of profoundly encumbered persons, and this phenomenal encumberance never bothers anyone.  Not the enormous mace hanging from the player's side, nor the sharpened khopesh, nor the odor of the many flasks of oil the player carries in their pack, nor anything else.

Sound, of course, is a biggie.  The world is phenomenally deaf.  Enemies stand at readiness while the DM waits for the party to decide what to do, as they call each other names and argue and make suggestions.  I have taken it for granted that my offline party never surprises anyone - they haven't in an age - because they never stop talking, they never consider what they're wearing as they lope down corridors or streets, through forests and glades and up and down hills.  I love that my players are excited and involved with the game, that they are loaded up with energy and thrilled to be out and adventuring ... but stealth is not in their playbook.

In reality, my players - and probably yours too, if the gaming club I attended a few weeks ago is any evidence - should be a kind of monster-pulling gravity well, so that as they move over the landscape the monsters find themselves helplessly drawn in to find out what in hell is making so much noise.  But reality is overrated.  It is troublesome, inconvenient, and makes poor drama.  I mean, I like a strong dose of real and all, but the facts are its easier not to have to roleplay every stranger standing around a 5,000 population town.  Yes, I could describe the townspeople staring at the party, or have people ask the players to please put their shields down.  It is never a good thing when I have to explain that there's no armor allowed inside the town walls, or that weapons can't be carried.  I do actually do this.  But it never goes over well.  To the players, it seems to feel like cheating, somehow, that I am merely looking for an excuse to take away their weapons, so that I will be able to kill them more easily.  I don't know why they don't trust me.

I can't give out advice on this - I'm as guilty as anyone.  I think every DM just has to accept how far this goes to the extent that makes them comfortable in their worlds ... and beyond that, not worry about it very much.

I have to get up now and take a walk.  If I sit too long with these greaves on, it just kills my legs.  I'm not as young as I used to be.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Squeeze That Unit In A Box

Lacking anything of my own to write about, I'll steal something that Hackmastery wrote about yesterday, a long time bugbear:  a mass-combat resolver ... as opposed to a mass combat 'generator.'  I have no trouble generating mass combats, but resolving them ... ah, that's another matter.

I confess, I wish there was time to play out the combats one roll at a time, as I did last year; but alas, I wouldn't put my players through that again.  I do need some sort of assistance on the large scale front ... particularly as the next pitched battle my party will be involved in will no doubt be three times as big.

Virtually everyone who sets out to create some sort of system begins by 1) compiling together the hit points of a group of men; 2) averaging out their AC; 3) averaging out their chance to hit; and 4) averaging out their damage.

The problem, of course, is that unlike a singular entity which, when it runs out of hit points, it dies, the 'grouped' unit is able to suffer damage and go on attacking.  More importantly, some of the individuals inside the unit die, which should mean that the unit's attack and damage potential should be reduced (AC averages could change also, but that's less important).  Most designers skip this part, and perceive that this unit continues to fight as though they remain a full compliment, right up to where the whole unit dies.

And then, when they play this methodology out at the table, somehow the intrinsic quality of the battle is lost.  The game is reduced to all the flavour of chess ... something to be enjoyed by a particular wargaming Zot-headed type, but dull as dishwater for a RPGer.

However, when the more forthright designer tries to handle the change in combat ability in a unit that has taken damage, the calculation tends to become unwieldy, losing the simplified grail that is the desired purpose of a mass-combat system.  Players and DM alike grind through the annoying trial that was concocted, hating it, then tossing it aside gratefully so they can go back to one-on-one encounters.

Now, if the gentle reader would forgive me.  I am at that point again in the post where I am listening to the voices of my critics before they have a chance to speak, expecting then to advance systems I haven't heard of in order to be helpful.  I will take this moment to express an appreciation for their efforts, but to point out some serious defects in their suggestions, which have nothing to do with the quality of those other systems. 

They're not D&D.  More to the point, they are not my D&D.  They won't take into account my changed hit point rules or my modified combat/stun/lose turn rules.  I'm only guessing here, but they won't be flexible enough for me to tailor them to my own personal needs.  Even if designed expressly for AD&D as opposed to 3.5 or 4 or even OD&D, they will still make assumptions about the use of magic in my world.  If the reader could please understand, they just won't be any good to me.  They wouldn't be any good to any DM who has, for years, modified their personal game to satisfy their own personal needs.

The biggest problem in finding anything designed for your world is that in almost every case it won't work for your world.  It works for someone else's world, a world so annoying that you wouldn't run in it on a bet.

This is not to say that a mass-combat system couldn't be designed.  It only says that it would have to be designed in such a way that it did not make assumptions about combat rules.  It should be a system defined by mathematics alone ... something for which I can plug in the numbers I want, and get out the numbers I need.  And nothing else.  The rest I'll incorporate myself.

To draw this out, and emphasize the problem, let's say I have a unit of 10 men.  Two of them are leveled fighters, 1st & 3rd level, with 12 and 28 hit points respectively.  The rest of the men, 8 of them, have 4-7 hit points, or an average of 5.5, or a total of 44.  The unit has ten attacks, right?

Already we run into troubles.  Because the unit actually has 12 attacks if it fights against zero levels, since the 3rd level would get three.  And then again, if they fight against a mixed unit of levels and zeros, like themselves, how many attacks does the 3rd level get?  An average of 2?  Do we just assume that the levels will fight each other, and only each other?  By what logic are we able to argue that in the middle of combat, they will automatically find each other as if they were polar opposites?

But okay, let's put that aside.  Most would argue that we can forget the bonus attacks, and say the 3rd level fighter just holds back or something.

We'll add that everyone is in leather & shield, and with an armor class of 7 (arguing flatly that there's no chance anyone in this group has a dexterity of greater than 14).  We have to make the same assumption about strengths less than 16 when we give them all long swords for an average damage of 4.5 x 10.  But these problems are quibbling.

Let's put our unit in the field (we'll call it the defending unit), and let's say that in one round they experience the following (having miraculously not suffered any previous damage):
  • A group of four archers fire into their number.
  • One of the archers is an elf.
  • They find themselves in melee with a similar sized 'attacking' unit.
  • An 1st level illusionist at the back of the attacking unit casts a phantasmal force, causing the attackers to seem twice as large, and some of the defending unit fails save.
  • A 3rd level cleric standing next to the illusionist casts hold person and freezes three of the defenders.
  • One of the attacking group has a +1 long sword.
  • Two of the attackers are elves and have a +1 to hit with long swords.
  • One of the defenders has been given an aid spell by a cleric.
And this is without taking into account strengths and dexterities that might be possessed by either side.  Feel free to determine the resolution after one round of combat, to express both the attack and the defense in one die roll.  And please demonstrate the power of the defending unit following that resolution, and have that unit then return the attack ... again, one die roll only.

All right, feel free to roll a lot of dice.  But please, if you could, resolve the combat in short order.  Please make it feel at least some of the tension enjoyed by having the ten defenders fight the twelve attackers fight the traditional way.

I'll sit here and wait.  No hurry.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Feudalism

I haven't written a Civilization IV post for quite awhile, but I haven't given up on them.  Given all that's happened in the last week, I think I need to get back to basics, as it were, and write a substance heavy post.

Feudalism was first incorporated by the Chinese, probably during the time that Rome was still a kingdom - so, at least 2500 years ago.  It arose as a means of controlling wide-ranging territories; a Warlord had hardly any local power, and by investing nobles with local power the Warlord had the benefit of having his borders defended, and having the privilege of drawing up an army from among the nobles in times of trial.  However, it became evident that these "Governors" possessed a great deal of power, enough to impose their will upon any central authority.

Following the unification of China in the 4th century B.C., the first emperor of the so-called Qin (or Ch'in) Dynasty, Shi Huang, attempted to break the power of the nobles by abandoning feudalism in favor of a strong central bureaucracy.  While eventually this idea would have merit in later centuries, Huang's success with it was questionable.  Throughout his reign, would-be governors continued to chafe in favor of being granted fiefs, while assassination attempts to rid China of Huang in favor of a more 'feudal-friendly' emperor were made.  Part of Huang's response was to attempt a destruction of all previous Chinese history - he ordered the burning of many books, and the burial of many scholars, often while they were alive.

In the end the Governors won.  With the death of Huang, China reverted to a feudal society.  For much of its history afterwards, emperors were at the mercy of their governors.  The central authority was eventually established to a greater degree during the Tang Dynasty (in the late 7th/early 8th century), which brought some stability to the ruling family ... the edges of empire were always at the mercy of independent warlords, however, who often sided with enemies against the center, and often fought one another for greater territory.

The rise of feudalism in Europe is better known to the western reader, and is usually described as a series of agreements between King and Nobility, or between the noble lords and the workers of the noble's land.  Labor was the primary substitute of exchange; a peasant was allowed such-and-such an amount of time to work land which was granted for their use (not their ownership) in exchange for working upon the Lord's manor - tilling fields, herding animals, cutting wood, providing fish, mending the Lord's buildings and so on.  Certain members of the Lord's household became permanent workers in the manor, producing the needed amount of candles, prepared foods, clothing, luxuries and so on, in exchange for a more comfortable lodging than the peasant could count upon and better eating than the peasant could expect.  Other persons within the Manor were specialty workers, such as the miller who maintained and ran the mill that ground wheat into flour, or the mason or the carpenter, along with the steward of the Lord's house, the reeve who managed the Lord's stock and herds, or the hayward who managed the work of the men in the Lord's fields.

The population of a manor could range anywhere from a few dozen to as many as eight hundred; and the work was shared and delegated without the use of any unit of exchange beyond food.  For the most part, in the Dark Age of the 6th and 7th century, this work was done to produce a self-sufficient economy ... food was not shipped to town to be sold, because there were no 'towns' as we understand them in most parts of Europe, and there was no money.

The disappearance of money from Europe occurred due to a number of factors; the Romans had, for century after century following the rise of Empire, devalued the currency in order to continue to provide money for their unsustainable infrastructure.  By the fourth century the Empire was heavy with inflation, stagnant economies and soldiers that were constantly finding themselves without pay - and therefore turning on the state itself in a series of usurpations that only served to further weaken the empire.  The scourge of barbarians that tore through central Europe - Huns, Vandals, Goths, Saxons, Franks, Avars, Slavs and so on served to collect the plunder that could be found into very few piles (so that money fell out of circulation), aided by the desperate attempts of local governments to pay these groups tribute in order to these same groups to keep themselves from getting killed.  By the end of the 7th century, with much of the existing wealth being funneled into the coffers of Byzantium or the successful Arab conquests in North Africa, coin became rare indeed.  Many of the existing, known mines of central Europe had been heavily worked by the Romans up until their demise, so that the production of new metals dropped off.  Foreign metals, that might have come from China or India, were diverted into the growing economies of East Africa or Southeast Asia, and away from Europe.

The arrangement of social hierarchy within the feudal manor provided a stability which could not be achieved with a more traditional economy.  However, with the unification of Central Europe under Charlemagne, and that state suddenly rich with metals obtained through arrangements with "foreign" markets in Western Spain and along the Adriatic, town-building became the rage in the Elbe and Rhine valleys throughout the 9th century.  Even as these were plundered repeatedly by Vikings through the next few centuries, who struck as far away as Sicily or the heart of the new Russia - Volhynia, Kiev and Vladimir - the development of trading towns continued.  As early as the 11th century, nobles were losing their grip on the peasantry, who were fleeing to towns in exchange for wages and relative personal freedom.

Europeans had similar experiences with Feudalism as the Chinese - groups of nobles were able to unite against this throne or that, establishing more and more independent states who were given greater and greater autonomy inside the 'Empire.'  Both Italy and Germany became hopelessly fragmented; Spain as well, though to a lesser degree, following the wars against the resident Berber's there.  The twin kingdoms of Lithuania and Poland both swelled into huge states comprised mostly of independent nobles with a very weak central authority - as was made very evident with the arrival of the Mongols in the 1230s.  For two centuries thereafter, while the Russians, Poles and Kievans had nominal authority in their kingdoms, heavy tributes were paid regularly to their Mongol overlords.  But at this point I am digressing.

The return of capital to Europe made the feudal system impractical.  Lords began substituting taxes for the previously expected labor, and peasants began to shuttle their goods into towns to obtain the money to pay these taxes.  Central authority shifted from the manors - where military power had previously reigned - to the towns, who could afford to pay richly for mercenaries in times of trouble.  The dominance over the manors continued apace through the next two centuries - stymied somewhat by the Black Plague, which hit the towns heavily - until the development of the cannon made castles useless in times of war.  By this time - late 1300s - Europe had slid firmly into a mercantilist economy, with towns being the political centers of life.

Without wishing to beat the point home, it was this reason why Russia proved so much stronger than its neighbors Kiev, Poland and Novgorod; from the beginning Russia was built from strong urban centers, promoting a central authority, while Russia's immediate enemies continued to be sprawled in predominantly rural societies.  Poland's condition as this was notorious - over the ensuing centuries, its neighbors would gobble Poland up, bit by bit.

Turning then to D&D, it must be noted that the dependence on coin in the game clearly indicates that D&D is not - as it is often described - based upon a feudal/Medieval society.  The changeover from manor to town that I describe above happened much earlier in certain parts of northern Europe - the Low Countries or Bohemia - and in Italy long before the 14th century.  Wherever money was common enough to be turned over in amounts equally hundreds of coins, nobles of every kind had removed themselves from their estates into the local towns.  D&D, as it is described in the books, fits more nearly the sense of early Renaissance than it does a Medieval culture.

If, however, one were to run a true Medieval environment, the characters would have to be considered outside the standard social structure, if they were to have any freedom of action at all.  They could hardly drift from manor to manor as easily as they could from town to town ... the arrival of strangers was considered a bad omen, the expectation that they would bring disease, disruption or discontent, along with the dangers that there were there to steal food.  Thus, the moment a group of characters arrived in a manor village - with the exception of the one in which they were born - there is a real danger the inhabitants would immediately take steps to kill them.

Food would be the largest difficulty, since it could not be purchased in a town (there were no markets), and needed to be grown.  A party would have to choose an area of relative wilderness in order to establish their own food production, and would afterwards have to defend that area against other starving persons - particularly criminal or religious outcasts who were not accepted in society.  Everything they wanted to have would have to be constructed with their own hands - if they did not have the knowledge of making swords, they would have to make do with wooden weapons, clubs, spears and so on that virtually anyone can make to some degree.  Time would have to be dedicated to herding their own animals, if they wanted a healthy diet, along with picking fruit, cutting wood for the winter and for cooking, mending their homes following storms, exterminating vermin and so on.  It would be a hard, unforgiving life ... and the worst of it would be, if they truly built something noteworthy, they'd have no right to stop a noble from taking it, since the party could not 'own' the land they were building upon.  Ownership was something that was accorded only through an agreement with the local authorities, and the party would never have been offered that agreement prior to building.  Even if the party went to war, and served well, they might still be discounted as being important in the greater scheme of things, since that was the culture of the time.  Robin Hood, if the gentle reader will remember, was a Lord before he became an outlaw.  He was reinstated to his lands ... his outlaw friends were not given lands of their own.

I think it could be done, but it would require a very different thinking process for players to find any fun in it.  For myself, I like culture - which is why I run a late Renaissance campaign.  But to each themselves.