Time of the Year

Well now.  I've been dead sick for a little more than two days.  Unfortunately, it hasn't been that kind of delirious sick that gives me really great new ideas.  No, this has been that sort of mundane sick that makes me want to bang my head on the wall until I fall unconscious.

Still, I may live.

I am about to do the following under some duress.  I have voices shouting at me to do it, voices I respect.  Since right now I don't respect myself much (don't worry, it's a symptom resulting from proof of mortality, no big deal), I am inclined to trust them.  So here goes.

Christmas is coming in six weeks.  How to Run and How to Play a Character would make really good christmas gifts.  Order them today.

I know people do not think of these things.

Thank you for your kind attention.

I'm Always Wrong

Took me a couple of days, but I finally watched this video from Kathryn Schultz at TED.  It was suggested to me in connection with the post I recently wrote about being wrong . . . and it puts me in mind of the day I've had and the way my thought process works.

All day - and I mean, all day, walking from the office to get coffee, waiting for the bus, sitting on the bus, laying in the tub upon getting home - I've been thinking about an attempt I made on the wiki yesterday regarding the ability to 'read' or know conspiracies.  I won't bother linking the wiki, because I'm going to change the page in a day or two . . . because the attempt is garbage.  It's wrong. It needs to be better.  I'll post the present version here and you'll see what I mean.


Conspiracy

Provides knowledge of conspiracies and conspiracy theories, though it must be understood that the character may be in doubt as to whether a given conspiracy is true. The secrecy with which the conspiracy occurs may leave its nature - or its goals - in doubt . . . however, the ability will give the character clues as to how the conspiracy may be validated or better understood.

Through adventuring, the character may thus gain the power to expose the conspiracy (false or real), become its victim or its master.

Speaking in game terms, it would be impractical for the DM to list every conceivable conspiracy that might have existed during a chosen period or which exists now in one of the wide reasons. For this reason, the DM and the player should agree upon a number of conspiracies to start, between two and five, related in geography or importance to the character at this point in the campaign - with the understanding that the DM should occasionally propose another conspiracy every third or fourth running (again, this time frame being agreed between the DM and the player). In this way, the player can accumulate conspiracies without overtaxing the DM's creativity.

Each conspiracy should have the following characteristics:

• That some agreement has been made between two or more groups 
• That the purpose of this agreement would be to conceal an important matter from the general population 
• That the matter in question should violate either the law or the local principles of morality 
• That knowledge is had of outsiders having suffered due to the conspiracy 

The character should have information regarding at least two of the groups involved; at minimum the conspiracy's foremost purpose (sub-purposes may not be known); what violations may have occurred (may include both true and untrue elements) and finally a general idea of what group or persons have suffered.

Even if the conspiracy should prove to be false, SOME of the details above should be correct - such as a group meaning to propose the conspiracy and not following through, persons suffering due to a reason that is not the conspiracy, etcetera.

Any deeper clarity regarding the conspiracy must be gained through adventuring.


There are people who will look at the above and think, that's kind of a dumb idea.  There are people who will look at that and think, that's fine.  Move on.  Then there are people who will recognize what I recognize - that it's weak.  It's in the neighborhood but it hasn't rented an apartment yet.  It's in the batter box but it's hitting foul grounders.

Being wrong is normal.  Normal.  There isn't a day that dawns where my thought process is not driven by A) what is wrong with what I've done up until now, and B) how do I make it better.

Just now, I'm working on a reboot of my pricing system and table.  Why?  Because France broke the old system. Why?  Because the old system was shit.  It didn't manage the mess.  The solution is to make a new, better, stronger system, which is what I'm doing.  Am I rehashing the old system for the fun of it?  No.

Is the character background generator good?  Yes.  Is it as good as it gets?  Hell no.  The same goes for the weather tables, for the write-up for the combat system, for the mass hit points system and the monsters and everything else I do.

Do I owe the people on line more videos about the trade system?  Yes.  Have I been ignoring that?  No.  I've done three videos already to try to cover the topic and all three have been complete crap.  The first video was complete crap.  Was I wrong when I did it that way?  Oh yes, yes, yes, I was wrong.

Being wrong is normal.

I would have accomplished NONE of the things I've accomplished without first understanding that everything that came before the presence incarnation was wrong.  Not good enough.  Inadequate.

This is design.  To design is to make garbage, then to make garbage that seems less like garbage, then to make garbage that comes close to making you believe that it isn't garbage . . . and then you start to make things that work.

The process demands that you look at everything you do from the point of understanding where and why the design is wrong.  The 'right' you don't have to worry about.  It's right.  It doesn't need your attention.

Only the things that are wrong are worth thinking about.  They are the only things that matters.

Those people in the world who tell you, only concentrate on the good things?  Those people have no idea how any of the good things in the world came into existence.  The good things in the world only happen because we fix the bad things in the world.

Try to keep your eye on that.  Try to understand that my saying that I'm wrong is a step forward.

Love

These are not my words. But they are.

The kid says, "So. They're not paying for it."

And his father answers, "Slow down for a second. Is this boring to you?”

“No, I like it.”

“Yeah, well I love it. Everything that’s good that’s happened to me in my life came because of that. I might not do everything great in my life. ‘Kay, I’m not perfect. But I’m good at this. And I want to share this with you. I want to teach you what I learned. I get to touch people’s lives with what I do. And it keeps me going and I love it. And I think if you give it a shot, you might love it too.”

Jon Favreau, from the film Chef.

Soon as I saw that, I thought, yeah.  There it is.  There's the difference.  Because I know a lot of you like this game, and that's cool.  But I love it.

I fucking love it.

Smash Things

I thought I had published this post four hours ago.  Turns out, no.  So below it, the reader will find a post called 'Half-Life' . . . which was actually written after this post.  FYI.

I wrote earlier this week about the amount of coin to be found in dungeons versus seeking entrepreneurial success . . . understanding, as nearly everyone does, that dungeons are far more lucrative that anything to be found on the surface.

This got me thinking about the overhead in starting a business venture as opposed to starting a dungeon adventure . . . and along those lines, I found myself thinking about the preparations explorers and spelunkers take before starting out on their journeys - proper helmets, lamps, protective clothing, lamps, ropes, ladders, picks, food, water, medical gear, a means to make fire, a whistle, padding for the knees and elbows, an extra dry set of clothes, good shoes, alcohol, flags, a knife, anti-venom, twine and so on.  A standard kit.

Of course, no D&D player has an electric torch or nylon waterproofing, not to mention most of the medical gear we can take now, but some of that is compensated by magic.  Still, the purpose for having these things is that without them, injuries happen, people get hypothermia or they lose their way and starve to death.

So you want to take enough gear.  And you want to take back-ups for all your gear.  And you want that gear to be brand new, because if the gear is old, it is sure to give out on you.

When was the last time your players replaced the same rope they've taken into other caverns and dungeons?  How many times has the party been suspended by that rope?  How often have your players had to replace their lantern?  How often as a waterskin broken, just from scraping against a series of sharp rocks?  How long has it been since your players bought a new pair of shoes?  Does their clothing ever wear out?  Hell, when was the last time your characters lost a hat in a high wind? Or a helmet that rolled off while they were scaling some mountain; or a lost a weapon because a belt broke?

For that matter, how many scrapes and cuts and bruises has the party collected during their adventures?  I'm not talking about immediate, life-threatening gashes, I mean the sort of thing that's nothing more than a scrape or a small cut?  I expect that, like me, you're not keeping track of that sort of thing.  There are no rules for it.  From experience, however, I've never gone into the wild, hiked through woods, climbed the side of a mountain and plumbed into a cave without damaging something.  The body is soft and it's very easy to take hold of a rock in the wrong place or slit a finger while grabbing onto an old tree branch.  Even the hardiest boot soles split on sharp outcroppings of shale or limestone.  And let's not even start on dry socks and blisters.

Well, let's a little.  Has a party of yours ever had to turn back because of blisters?

In the short story I included in How to Play a Character, I pointed out that the character's scabbard never grew stained, that the leather seemed as good as the day it was bought.  This is a fairly standard role-playing trope.

Before adventuring at all, a party ought to equip itself from scratch, every time.  And the price for doing so ought to be quite high.  Most goods that we buy, even at the standard price, show themselves to be junk in the wilderness.  The good equipment costs.  Even then, it gives out long before we'd like.

Tell your party that every time they suspend more than 100 lbs. with this rope for 2 g.p., there's a 10% chance the rope will break.  Then tell them they can buy this rope for 20 g.p. - but the chances of the expensive rope breaking is 5%.  Then watch the party spend their money.

What's needed are proper rules to take into account the of breaking of equipment - so that when the party clambers out of the dungeon with their four thousand gold pieces, they've lost a fortune in lanterns, broken weapons, armor that they've wore into fetid water and that smells to the point where it's unwearable, torn pants, a helmet that's been dented and because of that doesn't fit now (or fits uncomfortably), cuts from the vial of holy water that broke their hand, etcetera, etcetera.

I can think of a very, very simple way of managing this.  Every time that the players lose a hit point, assign a cost.  Call it 5 g.p. in equipment that's wrecked when an enemy's sword or claw or bite crushes the backpack as well as 2-12 of the character's hit points.  Assess this damage at the end of every fight.

Perhaps, count up the items the character is carrying; divide this number into the character's hit points.  Say Bob had 20 hp and is carrying 30 things.  He takes a hit point of damage and thus ought to lose one and a half objects.  Roll randomly to destroy one thing, then allow a 50% chance of the second thing surviving.

Or roll a 5% chance for everything on the list breaking.  Yes, some things will be stronger than others, but we can get around that by saying that it isn't the sword that breaks, it's the handle.  Or we could establish a heirarchy for some things over others - always remembering that the more damage Bob takes, the more things are smashed or ruined.

Half-Life

Suppose we try this.

Everything that the player buys is assigned a half-life in days, this being the number of days that the item is expected to function so long as it is maintained and kept in good condition.  Items like food have very brief half lives, sometimes only a day, while other items made of metal or stone have very long half-lives.  Items that are better made have longer half lives than cheap items.

Every item loses a day of it's half-life so long as it is put to normal use, whenever it is carried or carted or packed on a journey and if the item itself is perishable.  If the item is put to unusual use - meaning that it is strained or applied in a manner for which it was not constructed - then it loses more days than it normally would.  For stone or metal objects we would roll 1d4+1, for heavy wooden objects 1d6+1, for flimsy wooden objects 1d12+1 and so on.  Since flimsy wooden objects would have a shorter half-life to start, constant use of them in this manner would quickly cause them to break.

Low wisdom characters would increase the half-life of an object more rapidly than smart people. Every character could roll an wisdom check for every item they possess every day, even items that a sitting peacefully on a shelf (the unwise character decided to pick it up and toss it purposefully in the air just because) and for every point by which the check fails, that number of days are lost from the item's half-life.

Once the half-life is expended, then every use of that item requires a saving throw against whatever circumstance to which the item is put.  If the item is rolling around in the character's backpack, then a 1 rolled on a d20 at the end of the day indicates the item is broken or unusuable.  If a weapon past it's half-life is used in battle, then every round the weapon makes save against normal blow.  Not just when the character hits, but every round, as it's assumed the weapon is used to parry the enemy also.

Half-lives could be kept in the open, as the item would develop nicks and scrapes and show wear and tear.  The actual removal of days could be programmed, so that as a date was added, the program would calculate the number of days and the stupidity factor for each character's stuff (we could even have a 'stupidity fallout' effect where unwise characters break other character's equipment).

Then we could just sit back and watch all the stuff in the party break, one by one, causing the players to question whether or not that five-level dungeon was truly worth it.

Alexis Admits He's Wrong

"The context in which you make [a] decision will continue to exert its influence after the decision is made and you're actually experiencing the thing you've chosen."

Dr. Barry Schwartz, describing 'The Leakage Principle'

Let me begin by saying that if the reader is unfamiliar with the consequences of choice, they might begin first with this post I wrote back in Feb, 2013.  You might also want to make a mark on your calendar, because today I'm going to talk about why I was wrong when I wrote that.

In fact, I was wrong twice.

First of all, because the point I argued on the post was to say that we are all making the best of what we have - and that in spite of the fact that we were all shoved into round holes in terms of upbringing, education and ability, on the whole we are good with that.  We've learned to adapt.

Oh, how ignorant I was 19 months ago. Because I no longer think we have. It is probably more true to say we fume, we struggle, we bitch and moan and seek to assign blame that the world has unfairly limited us.  We may live with it, but we don't do so contentedly and that under the surface there is a screaming demand that in those things we can control, we deserve absolute, unrestrained freedom.  Even when that is impractical or wholly selfish.

I now think this unrequited expectation influences greatly the way that many people approach role-playing games.

The other point upon which I committed an error was in calling the WOTC a group of 'friendly fuckwits' for providing choice on the principle that choice can only improve things.  And yet, at present, the friendly fuckwit in the room is me - because I am, with my sage abilities, walking right down that same road.

Here is the difficulty with choice:  the more we add, the more difficult it becomes to make a decision. Additionally, we will probably make a bad decision, as we'll try to simply the decision in order to enable ourselves to make it.  We may not make any decision at all, as that will be easiest.  On the whole, the process of making a decision is less pleasurable, and we'll be less likely to be happy no matter what decision we make.  Finally, in the end, we'll find ourselves so focused on the decision we didn't make, it will forever taint whatever we have.

All of this is explained in detail by Schwartz, in overview on the TED talk linked on the 2013 post, or in the longer lecture linked at the top of this post.

My present boondoggle, the sage abilities, are poised to make life much, much harder for the player than easier - because I am trying, with all my efforts, to make every study in the collection interesting, useful and relevant.  This will mean that when the player chooses to be a fighter and not a cleric, all those clerical abilities will be slammed closed to the player; and when the player has chosen to be an historian or an expert on heraldry, once again a wide variety of other options will be removed - at least temporarily, and at any rate no character can become an expert in everything, there isn't time.

Thus, even if the player doesn't 'buy' skills, the player is still forced to make a choice, one that will haunt and undermine all the pleasures of whatever ability the character has actually adopted.  And this will be a problem that never, ever goes away.

For those who might be interested, the reason why so many railroading campaigns remain successful comes from the relative peace that comes from not having to make a choice.  Once the bit is out of the player's mouth, then comes the expectation that the world owes a person happiness; and all that resentment against the world asserts itself in the forefront of the mind.  At once, the player's expectations grow.  They MUST now make the right choice, only there are so many choices, what the hell is that?  They don't know.  The look over the options and the pressure builds.  The other players and the campaign are waiting, but the player just doesn't know.  All the player can see now is the wrong choice, not the right one - and in the end, it doesn't matter because due to the leakage principle, given time every choice ultimately becomes the wrong one.

I can see the problem.  I can see how I'm creating the problem and how my efforts are exacerbating the problem.  And yet, I'm already in love with this idea.

So I am wrong.  And I do know it.  Despite that, I have no intention of changing my plans.

Just now, I don't know what to think about that.  

Grassroots Movement

Something I truly enjoy about working on the new sage tables is the direction I find myself pursuing at the drop of a hat. Today, for instance, in working on the study of history, I looked up the phrase "practical use of history" and found myself looking at a page describing and attacking the American Tea Party.

And my imagination went ding-ding-ding-ding-ding.

The result was an ability called Grassroots Movement. The content is available through the link, but I am so proud of the work I've done on it (took me hours), I'm going to repost it here (including the content on the links relating to the different speeches the character can make).

Through the use of history and speaking directly to others, the character is able to influence others towards adopting political policies that were once held to be historically true within the region where the character speaks. The historical context must be real, but the motivation of the influenced people to reclaim that context need not depend upon other circumstances and realities that were true of that time in history.

There are limitations to what the movement can achieve, yet nevertheless the people of the immediate region that can be reached by word-of-mouth may be encouraged to adopt legislation, demand the stepping down of a new authority, a decrease in taxes, greater adoption of the region's traditional religion, the execution of criminals or political enemies of the state and civic improvements, as well as the end to an existing war or the initiation of war.

The character must express a desire to speak to as many people as possible within the space of one week. During that week, the character will influence up to 1d6 persons per point of charisma. If the character is a cleric who has established a congregation of not less than 50 regular parishioners, the character influences 1d8 persons per point of charisma rather than 1d6.

The total will indicate the % chance of the movement 'catching fire' that week. If the percentile roll is a failure, the character may continue to agitate throughout the next week - however, the character must discount 4 points of their charisma the second week. If the movement fails again, the succeeding week the character must discount 8 points of their charisma. This continues until either the movement catches fire or the character fails to have sufficient charisma to produce a percentile chance.

If the movement catches fire, this will mean that those influenced by the character will themselves seek to spread the word. The character will now roll 1d6 (or 1d8) for every person previously influenced. This will represent the total number of influenced persons that week. The final total - hereafter referred to as the 'crowd' - needs to carefully recorded and kept.

This number will, at the end of the week, join together and seek out the character, calling for leadership. The character that has initiated the grassroots movement is then free to give a speech suggesting one of five policies: the speaker may rabble-rouse the crowd; the speaker may rally the crowd to march upon an authority capable of making a change and deliver the crowd's demands; the speaker may incite the crowd to passively disobey the state; the speaker may encourage the audience to agitate for desired change in a peaceful, obedient manner; and finally the speaker may have a change of heart and call for the crowd to disperse.

Rabble-rousing

An effort that can be undertaken by any character who has gained the rapt attention of a crowd in excess of 20 persons. Rapt attention is defined as a pre-established willingness of the crowd to willfully acknowledge the character's desires. Rapt attention may be gained through deed, personal authority over the crowd or an attempt to initiate a grassroots movement.

To rabble-rouse, the character delivers a speech intended to transform the crowd into a mob, inciting violence against a given person or structure, in order that the individual be killed or the structure be destroyed. To achieve this, the character must make a strength check (strength of voice and apparent personal ability to carry forth the request is in doubt here).

It is presumed that the crowd is willing to become violent once the speaker sets out to encourage violence - however, if the strength check fails, the crowd will begin to argue amongst themselves. Within ten or twenty minutes, others will appear and the mob will swell from 2-5 times its previous size - whereupon they will begin to fight among themselves. Soon a full-throated riot will result, so that every building within a one mile radius has a 1 in 20 chance of being torched or destroyed through looting. Since the crowd will have divided into factions, the first will set out to perform the character's original wish - destroying every public building within reach - while the latter faction will take it upon themselves to attack the character or the character's possessions. Presume that the number in each faction is equal to the original size of the crowd before the character began to speak, +/- 10%. The riot will last from 5-15 hours before finally dispersing.

Consequences - If the strength check succeeds, the crowd will organize as a vigilante force itself as directed by the character and set out as best they can to perform the actions desired. If it is possible to destroy buildings they will, if they are able to find the villains, they will do so. However, the crowd's anger will diminish once 2-12 hours have passed, whereupon they will begin to disperse.

Once the speech has been delivered, local authorities will become aware of the crowd. They will require 1 hour per 20 persons in the crowd to gather forces and take action against the mob or vigilante force. During this time they will seek the person responsible. A percentile roll is made; if the number is higher than the character's charisma, the character is betrayed and the character's name will become known to the authorities. Otherwise, the character will remain unknown. The character will have 10-120 minutes of warning that the betrayal has occurred, enabling them to flee or submit willingly to arrest. A trial will follow.

Rally

An effort that can be undertaken by any character who has gained the rapt attention of a crowd in excess of 10 persons. Rapt attention is defined as a pre-established willingness of the crowd to willfully acknowledge the character's desires. Rapt attention may be gained through deed, personal authority over the crowd or an attempt to initiate a grassroots movement.

To rally a crowd is to encourage them to head off towards a given location in order to perform a purpose, most commonly to make a show of force that an authority cannot ignore, but potentially to move to a location for the purpose of being deliberately disobedient to the state. The distance travelled by a march may potentially be no further than across a street, but it may also mean travelling for dozens of days towards a far-off objective. To sustain a longer march, the character must continue to rally the crowd onward.

No success roll is required if the march can be managed in a period of less than one hour. At that point, however, the character must make a wisdom check. If the wisdom check fails, the crowd will quickly diminish to half its size during the second hour. The remainder will stay the course until the first full day has passed, this being 24 hours. If, on the other hand, the wisdom check succeeds, the crowd will swell in size by 10 to 40% throughout the day.

From then on, at the start of each new day, the rallying character must make another wisdom check. So long as the check is successful, the crowd will continue to gain in size by 10-40% each day. However, with each night it will become apparent that many of these people have not brought adequate food or means to manage the journey. Steps must be taken to provide one third of these people with food (2 lbs. each per day) and blankets (one each, plus additional numbers as the crowd continues to swell). If violence or plundering is used visibly to provide these, there is a 10% chance each day per incident of violence that the crowd will explode into a riot, ending the march.

Persons needing blankets or food that do not receive both will melt away after one day, along with companions they have brought with them or met along the way, diminishing the crowd in number by themselves and one other.

There is no appreciable result if the daily wisdom check fails once - this will mean only that the crowd does not gain in size that day. However, if the daily wisdom check fails twice in succession, the crowd will shrink by 10%. If the daily wisdom check fails three times in succession, the consequences will be dire.

Evaluation - Upon having failed three times, the crowd will demand an evaluation of the march itself. Both sides will be heard throughout that day and no progress will be made. The rallying character will be permitted a chance to speak - at this point, the character may choose to rabble-rouse, disperse the crowd or continue to rally.

If the character presses to rally, the character must now make a charisma check - if this is successful, the crowd will diminish by 20% overall but the march will continue (if the next day the crowd grows again, it will indicate that many of these who left returned). The rallying character will be considered to have a clean record and may therefore fail twice again (even right away) without an evaluation.

If, however, the charisma check during the evaluation fails, then the march will largely fail as well. A mere 10% of the crowd's number will remain, while the remaining 90% will depart.

The DM may choose to adjust the character's charisma check if pertinent information can be offered to the crowd that they did not previously possess.

Resolution - If the purpose of the march is to perform an act of disobedience, the rallying character must at the end of the march make a speech addressing this action (see Civil Disobedience).

However, if the crowd has made their way to address an authority, either a public or private individual, their appearance will arouse the individual to address the crowd, either directly or through an intermediary. The crowd and the character are free to make their request. To achieve their goals, the addressed individual must make a morale check to resist the change (see standard morale). A -1 adjustment to the morale check is made for each 100 members in the crowd.

Should the morale check fail, the addressed individual will make a well-meant concession towards the crowd's desires. This concession will likely not be a complete agreement, but should be sufficient to indicate a change in attitude and belief, compelled by the crowd.

If the morale check succeeds, however, the crowd will be forcibly dispersed by whatever means the addressed individual possesses, with the likely arrest of several persons including the rallying character. It may not be possible at this time for the character to speak again with the crowd, either to rabble-rouse, disperse them or cause them to disobey.

Civil Disobedience

An effort that can be undertaken by any character who has gained the rapt attention of a crowd in excess of 30 persons. Rapt attention is defined as a pre-established willingness of the crowd to willfully acknowledge the character's desires. Rapt attention may be gained through deed, personal authority over the crowd or an attempt to initiate a grassroots movement.

Civil disobedience is the passive unwillingness to obey laws established by authorities, most commonly paying taxes but also including any participation in socially approved activities. To encourage the crowd to participate, the character must make a constitution check.

If this check fails, the crowd will express their agreement to take part - but 90% of them will have returned to their usual behavior within 1-4 weeks. There is nothing that can be done about this - it indicates the crowd simply does not believe strongly enough in the character's will.

On the other hand, if the check is successful, the number of participants will increase by 20 to 50% weekly until the state hears of what's going on and sets out to take action. This will take from between 4-10 weeks, and typically manifests as the arrival of an army or similar military appearance.

Resolution - The grievances of the disobedient will have aroused the state to address the crowd through an intermediary, who will by now have become aware of the situation. The overseeing authority (the king, local noble or premiere bureaucrat) must make a morale check to resist the change. A -1 adjustment to the morale check is made for each 250 disobedient persons.

Should the morale check fail, the addressed individual will make a well-meant concession towards the crowd's desires. This concession will likely not be a complete agreement, but should be sufficient to indicate a change in attitude and belief, compelled by the populace.

If the morale check succeeds, however, the crowd will be forcibly compelled to obedience by whatever means the state possesses, with the likely arrest of several persons including the rallying character. It may not be possible at this time for the character to speak again with the crowd, either to rabble-rouse or disperse them.

Agitate

An effort that can be undertaken by any character who has gained the rapt attention of a crowd in excess of 20 persons. Rapt attention is defined as a pre-established willingness of the crowd to willfully acknowledge the character's desires. Rapt attention may be gained through deed, personal authority over the crowd or an attempt to initiate a grassroots movement.

Agitation is a call for passively obtained justice through ordinary political channels, using influence and debate over a period of time. To encourage the crowd to participate, the character must make an intelligence check.

If the check fails, it will indicate that after the character's speech there followed a lengthy period where the crowd discussed the issue, debated and deliberated upon it, but ultimately come the next day no true resolution was reached. At this point, the attempt to initiate the crowd to success is considered a failure and the opportunity is lost.

If the intelligence check is successful, however, then a resolution has been reached and the crowd that is present that day will begin a peaceful grassroots movement on their own accord. The character should then judge the eventual size of the movement at ten times the size of the crowd that gathered to hear the character speak.

This final number should then be compared as a percentage of the total population of the smallest political entity that surrounds it. This percent then becomes the chance of the local powers fully adopting the proposed policy. This roll is then made one month after the movement has reached their resolution.

If the roll should fail, then another roll is made three months after the movement's resolution. Another roll is then made 9 months after the resolution, then 27 months, then 81 months and so on, until such time as the resolution passes or the matter is simply put off endlessly.

No negative consequences shall be brought against the initiating character.

Disperse

An effort that can be undertaken by any character who has gained the rapt attention of a crowd of any size. Rapt attention is defined as a pre-established willingness of the crowd to willfully acknowledge the character's desires. Rapt attention may be gained through deed, personal authority over the crowd or an attempt to initiate a grassroots movement.

To disperse a crowd is to cause them to surrender their anger, their will or their desires in order to send them on their way, separately, safe and sound. The character must make a charisma check. A successful roll will disperse the crowd, which may take some time - typically a number of minutes equal to the square root of the number of individuals making up the crowd.

A failure to disperse a crowd will cause them to cease listening to the character - even if the character was responsible for assembling the crowd. Once gathered, the crowd may do any of the following (roll a d20):

• (1-3) crowd will riot with no specific aim in mind; 1 in 20 of all buildings within a mile may be threatened.
• (4-12) crowd will select a leader of their own and set off the put their grievances to the nearest authority.
• (13-19) crowd will steadfastly refuse to obey any and all laws for a 24 hour period before dispersing.
• (20) crowd will select a leader and resolve to agitate for peaceful change.

Conclusion

Having reconciled the effects of each (details to be found in the links), the character must now move on. If the character wishes, they may attempt again, beginning from a new location, but this will guarantee arrest of the character following the movement no matter what policy the character attempts. Still, the character may attempt to incite another violent act, another march, another call to disobedience or further pestering of the government if the character so wishes.


Let me stress - ALL of the above content was conceived of and written in full during the last four hours.

Dungeon Logic & Getting Rich

Yesterday, Doug made a salient point: ". . . compared to the relative wealth of an adventurer, the profit from a sawmill seems like small potatoes."

This is an argument I've heard many times, even from my players.  Why go through all the trouble of establishing a business concern when adventuring is more lucrative?  Not to mention a more direct action for my character.

In the past, I've made the argument that there are more benefits from establishing a business than money, but even I can admit that's a weak argument.  Let's say, then, instead of arguing, we try to understand why dungeons are so lucrative and why the process of building a business usually ends in a gaming failure.

I think it has everything to do with the thinking process applied to each pursuit.

Right off, we have a much clearer understanding of why a sawmill makes money - wood is cut, shoved in one side of the mill, processed and loaded from the other side into carts that then have to be driven to market and sold.  If I sit in the reader's world and propose this as something my character wants to do, immediately we begin doing calculations:  this many men can cut down this much wood that can be loaded at this speed and brought to the mill in this time frame.  The wood can be cut by this many men working this many hours in this amount of space, then we will need this many wagons to travel this distance to a town of this size that has this many potential customers and so on. Virtually every detail of the venture can be measured - and if a measurement is lacking, there are online places to dig up a little research to make reasonable guesses at what the measurement should be.

Now consider the treasure associated with 18 giant spiders.  How much should there be?

Aha.  Here we have no calculators, no measurement, no online research.  What we DO have are players that need this much treasure to go up to the next level or this much treasure to buy the sword of their dreams.  We have want as the measure, not the physical limitations of the world.  Treasure is all DM fiat, and even the stupidest DM in the world knows that the players know that the DM's word on the matter is a measure of how much of a jerk the DM is willing to be.  Everyone knows that the DM can add an extra zero any time the DM wants - and hell, why shouldn't he or she?  We're all going to be much happier if we upgrade, aren't we?

I don't see how this is any different for the folks who don't give experience for treasure.  Surely, someone who will have missed this sentence in their scanning of this post will write in the comments, "Well, I don't give experience for treasure, so there's no problem."  This might be true - IF the DM doesn't allow the treasure to be used for other upgrades, such as purchasing magic over the counter, and IF the DM in turn hardly gives any treasure when parties kill monsters.  I wonder, O DM that gives no experience for treasure, is it practical to start a sawmill in your world?  Will it give me status that killing something won't give?  Or does my status automatically come from my level?

That, to me, is the largest part of the problem - that status is inexorably connected to level.  When the fighter reaches a certain level, an army just shows up, begging to serve.  One day the thief is 9th level; he is short 35 x.p. of 10th.  He meets a mangy dog in an alley and kills it, gaining 36 x.p.  All of the sudden, 4-24 thieves step into the alley and declare, "We are yours!"

Well, you all know I play an AD&D hybrid.  I have no idea if anyone from 3e on ever gets any followers from achieving a certain level.  I suspect some sort of automatic authority is conferred.

Since virtually the beginning of my world I have discarded the idea that a character has to be a certain level before they can build something or gather hirelings.  If a 2nd level cleric wants to build a church, all power to that character.  I do insist that the cleric be a priest before giving services (in the Player's Handbook, a 'priest' is 3rd level while a 'curate' is 4th - Gygax and crew were clearly NOT catholic), but that doesn't stop the adept from paying for and doing the actual building.

Why shouldn't an army serve a 7th level fighter, if he offers pay, provides the necessary organization and makes good decisions?  Hell, why not a 1st level, the circumstances being right?  Did Joan of Arc adventure in the dungeons of French Lorraine, killing demons and dragons, before leading the French army at Orleans?  Funny how those adventures have never made it to print.

Thus, part of the problem assumes that if I make a sawmill, I will get no status from that unless I also reach a certain level.

In turn, having reached a certain level, having done nothing but plumb the depths of dungeons and tombs, I'm obviously now an instant local lord with an army at my disposal, the darling of the kingdom and certainly entitled to my position.  So far, my entire contribution has been pouring money into the coffers of merchants - and not necessarily in the kingdom where I am not that given level - but naturally my army, my steward and all my peasants can't wait to serve me and pay me taxes.

Fuck Harvard.  We ought to train would-be lawyers in the caves of Sima de la Cornisa.  All the education anyone could ever want.

But I digress.

Where we have a situation in which the DM 'makes up' the amount of coin and status gained from plundering dungeons, but incrementally reviews every copper piece where it comes to creating a business, then YES, dungeons will always be more lucrative.  Dungeon logic circumvents limitations. Actual development of the world embraces limitations.  The one is obviously operating according to different rules from the other.

Establish in your world a rule that the players can drop 15,000 gold pieces on a working sawmill and expect a 98% likely return of 1,500 g.p. a month, without having to do anything else that pay the money and write on their character sheets, "sawmill, Pontdeuf valley," then I absolutely guarantee you that players will buy as many freaking sawmills for which they can find the money.

And why not?  If your players have a 98% likely chance of killing 18 giant spiders and being given 1,500 gold in treasure, what is the difference?  If it makes you feel any better, have the players roll 20 dice in the space of 15 minutes (to 'run' the business the same way combat is run).  Then they will have 'earned' the profit, right?  The same way they 'earn' the coin they get in treasure.  If you really want to go all out, they could lose 'profit points' if they roll badly - and if they reach zero profit points, the sawmill burns down, they fall into the machinery and die or the entire kingdom's army shows up and puts them in prison for life.

What could be simpler for you?  What could be simpler for the players?  All that's required is the elimination of logic!

Unless, of course, you'd consider inserting a little logic into your dungeons.

That's asking a bit much, I suppose.

Ruthless Bastards

I find that working on rules to make the players better researchers and readers, learning about heraldic signs, history and such, compels me to make attempts to codify elements of my world that I would never have previously considered.  Take, for example, the few words I wrote regarding the player's registering their own heraldic symbol and ultimately becoming a village leader.  These things are helpful to me in assigning logic to my world, but I wonder at the same time if players would ever become conscious of such things or their benefit.

It's easy to imagine the player that wants their own symbol - and players being what they are, chances are the symbol they'd accept wouldn't be one that was established.  Tradition is not a strong suit in this 21st century culture.  Still, I did make room for that.  My interest right now follows the character after they've obtained their symbol.  Perhaps, being able to find the rule about village leader, I can believe a player might pursue the possibility.

Jim's fighter Winton Highgate has reached 5th level and has accumulated some coin.  He and his party haven't decided to stop adventuring, but as the pile of treasure has grown cumbersome of late, he's looking for a place to invest into and where he can horde some of the wealth in a hidden hole or two.  He and his companions have lately slain a manticore in the streets of Albi, with the town's gratitude, and through the cleric Winton has gotten the moment recognized in a blazon to put on his shield.

"What's all this about a village leader," asks Jim, reading the page on line.  "It doesn't say what village."

"Pick one," I tell him.  "It's up to you to decide where you want to settle.  It just can't be a large place."

So Jim talks with the rest of the party and they decide where they might want to settle.  They'd like a village without any leader at all, but that's pretty doubtful.  Finally they settle upon a little burg that's in the foothills below mountains crested with ice and snow.  We settle on a name for it, calling the village Pontdeuf.

"What now?" asks Jim.

Well, first and foremost the player must travel there and either purchase an existing building or build one.  The party makes their way up from Albi into the place they've only just heard about, finding it picturesque and a little backwards.  Most of the people are engaged in driving sheep or cutting wood to haul it twice a year into Albi.

The characters decide to build several small, individual houses, none of which are large enough for the 1,000 square foot requirement.  However, Jim - who grew up in a small town in B.C. - realizes that Pontdeuf is an excellent place for a sawmill; he sends to Albi for a few workers, builds a waterwheel and several saw pits to be driven by the wheel's wooden camshaft and thus meets the requirement.

"What's next?" asks Jim.

"While you're building the mill, introduce yourself around to the people in the village.  They'll be interested in what you're building.  Make sure you put your heraldic symbol on display, that will assure the people believe that you're trustworthy and good hearted.  Speak with the two existing village leaders, Henri and Simon.  Explain that you're giving a party.  Head back to town, buy clothes, prepare the party, then speak with a notary at the town hall to register your status in Pontdeuf.  The claim must be written out by a clerk, then posted in the town hall and that will cost a few fees.  I have those included in the price lists."

"And then?"

"That's enough.  Tell me about the party you plan to throw and the clothes you'll buy.  Remember these are small town people, too much ostentation will frighten them and they'll become hateful."

So it goes.  Is it the sort of thing a player might do?  It's something I might do.  From the player perspective, I might start using the village as a base of operations, exploring the mountains, cleaning out any caves and wiping out the vermin in the valley surrounding Pontdeuf.  Then I'd set about consolidating my power in the village.  If I could not get rid of the existing leaders, I might push the rest of the party to join as leaders and thus dominate voting.  I might try bribery or blackmail to gain control over Henri, say, to ensure that he votes how I want.  Getting one or the other promoted out of the village, making them a member of the court, would get rid of them AND gain them as an influential friend at the same time.

After that, I might begin ruling Pontdeuf with an iron will, forcing the residents to expand their sheep herds, to work harder in shearing, carding and preparing the wool for market.  I would definitely begin buying up land, sending out expeditions to plunge into deeper dungeons for more coin.  I would also communicate with the thief in the party, suggesting he might gather together a band of brigands to begin raiding other villages in the foothills.  I would have the thief stage a raid on Pontdeuf, so that my own subjects were attacked (and a few enemies providentially killed), houses burned and plundered, to be sure that Pontdeuf was not viewed as suspiciously immune to bandit raids.  I'd demand troops from Albi to deal with the 'problem,' then mislead the troops to be sure they never found the party's thief.

Once Pontdeuf had been established as the premier village in the region, the bandits would coincidentally melt away; perhaps a false body would be used to show the death of the bandit 'leader.' The thief would adopt a disguise, slip into the town of Albi and begin disrupting affairs there.  Albi would certainly be our next target.

I can see lots of angles.  But I suppose that most players could only see the responsibility or the prosaic elements.  There'd be nothing to do in a little village, except sit around and count the time until the next dungeon could be found.  That's what I see most of the time.

Players do not see the bigger picture that being a ruthless bastard offers.

Heraldic Shortcomings

I must admit, I've been struggling all morning with heraldry, signs & sigils.  I don't find it a very accessible subject for providing value for characters - and I couldn't think of anything that was deserving of a very high status of research.  Perhaps someone could suggest some directly practical element of heraldry that I hadn't considered.

Sometimes, it is best to consult the internet.

UPDATE:

I have added one additional ability to the heraldry page: standard bearer.  The rule is adapted from the hobgoblin monster listed in the original Monster Manual.

I do think it's nice with random rules like that are fitted into a larger scheme.

The Limits of My Conception

Apparently, the munchkin post was popular.  Anything popular is worth a revisit.

I confess I had not considered the acrimony with which the term itself is viewed.  To me, it was nothing more than a helpful definition for the sort of person that sees the game in terms of - let me see, Dave Cesarano called it, ". . . a solipsistic and narcissistic power-fantasy."  Yeah, I'll go with that.

The evidence for community encouragement of this sort of behavior takes me back, once again, to the 'bromance' that some 'dudes' share with pompous, male-dominated RPGism.  Munchkins are not hard to find.

Does it mean that everyone who embraces a point system is, by definition, a munchkin?  Absolutely not.  What I said was that the invention of the point system served as an enabler for the munchkin.

I do understand the pejorative of this.  In this culture, an enabler is as bad as the enabled.  I myself, yesterday, made an allusion to the point system as a drug pusher enabling the drug user.  That comment has been deleted; I have since thought better of it.

It is possible, I concede, to run a points-based system AND to restrain munchkinism at the same time. While I contend that the first, unrestrained, will unquestionably lead to the second, I am able to believe that a vigilant DM may potentially encourage players to seek other forms of play other than to seek their power fantasy.

But while I can believe it, I can't conceive it.  I haven't had any experience where, with munchkinism being possible, it isn't in turn embraced.  I have seen DMs urging players away from it; I have seen DMs removing avenues in order to make it harder; but no matter what, so long as the rules support the potential, I have always seen the potential exploited.

The class-system based game does not remove munchkinism.  Munchkins will acquire weapons, they will fight every distribution of treasure and experience, they will explore and examine ways to improve their armor and other equipment, fighting for every inch of gain and ultimately setting themselves up with as much personal power as possible.  In all my experience of making rules, I know perfectly well that the fundamental concern that must be considered in ever giving players a bit more power is how the munchkins will exploit it.

My thought turns to a non-game example, demonstrated brilliantly in Norman Jewison's Other People's Money.  In it, Garfield, the ultimate exploiter, says,

"They can pass all the laws they want.  All they can do is change the rules.  They can never stop the game.  I don't go away.  I adapt."

That is what munchkins do.  This is what Oddbit tagged onto Wednesday when he wrote, "The best munchkins would probably be great at making do with what they have."

I control munchkins by pounding them into rule-constructed chambers that serve like the iron suits of Dante's Purgatory, restricting their mechanical power to the same level as everyone else.  I compensate for this by letting them run loose on the landscape mentally and emotionally, recognizing that as they gain levels and accumulate powerful items my only real weapon against them is to pit them occasionally against other npc munchkins.  This has always worked well.

Of course the munchkins carp.  But even the most skill-enabled munchkin will, because it isn't about having enough power, it is always about having more.

This is why I am a cynic.

I can't conceive of a non-munchkin campaign because I've never seen one.  Tell me that you have seen unicorns and I may believe you, but I'm always going to reserve a bit of doubt until I chance upon one myself.

Because I can't conceive of such a thing (acknowledging that it nevertheless exists, because I've been told they do), my mind immediately wonders how I would be restrained in such a campaign if I chose to be a munchkin.

This is a mental exercise that has served me well.  Rather than viewing the question from the outside, I would rather view it from inside.  I am a munchkin.  I sit down at the table of you, the gentle reader, and together we proceed to make my character.

Has my character been pre-made?  I've played recently in campaigns where that seems to be standard. Ordinarily, I hate it.  It is a way to control my creative juices.  As a munchkin, this is OBVIOUSLY taking away my freedom.  What is the point in having a point-buying system if I'm not allowed to spend my own points?

Ah, the characters are not pre-generated.  Excellent.

Do I know this system?  Is it something I've played before?  Is it some unique system that someone has made from scratch or greatly altered from some existing framework?  Because if it is new or made from scratch, well that's a great way to keep me ignorant, isn't it!  Yeah, sure, first time in, I'm not going to know what the best picks are right off, am I?  Well, if you don't change the system in the future, then all right, FINE.  I'll learn your rules, I'll figure them out and you just wait, give me a few months and you'll see what I can do with this . . .

Oh, it is a standard game?  Good.

Let's see, we're playing at eight tonight - let's see what the internet says about starting a new power character in the system we'll be running . . . ah, this should be good.

Now I see me picking the skills I want and getting certain leading questions.  I don't say that you, gentle reader, do this, but it's just my perception of how I'm encouraged in your world not to be a munchkin.  Do I really want the biggest weapon?  Do I know there's a lot of places where I won't be able to use it?  Yes, I want it anyway.  No, I don't really want to take any 'character building' skills.  I already have character, I don't need it defined by skills.  No, I don't want to play a character that the party needs.  Sorry, exactly why do you say, 'I ought to'?  What are you implying?  Well, that's great for them, but what does it do for me?  Oh, I see.  I'm not supposed to just think about me, is that it?

I can't see any way of controlling me, the munchkin, that doesn't in some way begin with the same ways in which all people are controlled, everywhere.  Influence, guilt, moralisms, distinctions of what I ought to do when I make my character and so on.

Reversing back to myself as DM, I feel I need to make something clear.  Munchkins are GREAT CHARACTERS.  They get really excited, they act impulsively (which is always a spur to party activity), they challenge the perameters of my game and they want to WIN.  I, personally, happen to like players who like to win.

What I don't like are players who have it handed to them on a platter in the form of point-buying, so that they're able to win by mechanical means and not by actively applying their limited power to game play.

A munchkin without a point-buying system is just a hard player.  A player who's tendencies can be managed and directed towards invigorating the whole party.

The problem comes when the munchkin is given too much freedom in a system where there are others who are not prepared or not willing to take advantage of that freedom.  Then it comes down to endless arguments over what 'should' a player do when building their character, what balance of skills 'should' be chosen or what expectations of the party 'should' the individual player respect.

Which I must point out is an overwhelming part of the discourse around munchkins and people building them.

Look at the inherent morality present in many of the anti-munchkin comments on Wednesday's linked page.

"Munchkins are those who will do whatever is necessary to gain every last bit of power they can think of"  (what part of that is outside the rules as written?)

"A munchkin is anyone who can squeeze more efficiency out of a given game's character generation and play."  (efficiency is a pejorative - there's a solid opinion)

"A player who has no awareness of proportion, tone or realism" (who's proportion, tone or realism?)

"Munchkins are people who believe that in-game power is a measure of their skill as a player."  (what is a 'player?'  Isn't that someone who plays the game?  What makes this speaker the final arbiter of what 'playing' means?)

It's all self-righteous judgementalism.  Having created the rule that promotes munchkinism, the obvious solution is to then SHAME any person who dares to employ the rule as written, particularly if they are efficient or effective in doing so.

Tell me, please, how your point-buying system does not promote either munchkinism OR this sort of high-mindedness.

As I say, I can't conceive it.

Why Wasn't I Consulted?

Yesterday, I came across this article - admittedly late to the party, as it was published in January 2011 (why didn't people tell me?).  I rarely applaud articles.  This one was deserving.

Ford explains that people approach the internet with a question, that question being, "Why wasn't I consulted?"  I don't think the internet answers the question, but the response of the user contains the sentiment that the internet ought to answer it.  Ford writes,

"'Why wasn't I consulted,' which I abbreviate as WWIC, is the fundamental question of the web.  It is the rule from which all other rules are derived.  Humans have a fundamental need to be consulted, engaged, to exercise their knowledge (and thus power), and no other medium that came before has been able to tap into that effectively."

Ford then goes on to discuss the pattern of flame wars, anger and knee-jerk reactions.  I confess I relate strongly to that.  Much of the criticism of this blog, for example, tends to reflect Ford's premise:

• "How dare you assign hit points to orcs without first consulting us?"
• "How dare you have an opinion about a given module without first consulting us?"
• "How dare you moderate your comments without first consulting us?"

And so on.

Ford then makes the cogent argument that if you want to be popular on the net, then you ought to set up some sort of system that enables people to consult.  Which, I suppose, makes a lot of sense.  By consulting (or appearing to have the power to do so), web visitors will feel engages and encouraged to continue in their engagement - thus they will return again and again.  By moderating the comments on this blog, I remove that power from many potential participants in the discussion - by disenfranchising them, I reduce the popularity of this blog.

Hm.

Let me talk about consultation for a moment.

Beginning in the 1980s, there grew a strong desire on the part of business to better understand how to encourage their employees to work harder and more consistently, to call in fake sick less often, to remain loyal and to stop stealing from the company.  Much was learned.  A central discovery, however, was that if you - the employer - directly asked your employees what they felt the company should do or how the company should manage their affairs, the employees on the whole would feel much more of all the things you would want them to feel.

Understand, however - the studies done demonstrated that it wasn't necessary to actually DO any of the things your employees suggested.  In fact, there was no substantial gain to be obtained by following through.  The most important thing was to ASK.  Having asked, you had already accomplished your goal: employees being more engaged.

This is why you - the employee - are constantly asked in your job to give your opinion on things that you don't care about - and why you're frustrated at your time is being wasted when you know damn well that corporate does not give a shit about you.  It is because the other people you work with are much, much dumber than you.  They think the company really does care.  If they didn't care, why would they ask?

Because of these studies, because human beings are so incomprehensibly naive and stupid, the corporate culture as been suffused with ungawdly loads of insincere crap that pours like a thick honey over everyone's thinking.  Corporations have run with these ideas because they work.  Other companies have proliferated whose sole purpose is to teach corporations how to implement such ideas, being paid huge amounts of money - and these 'consultants' sustain their profits because people really are moronically willing to accept the premise: "People asked my opinion.  People must like me."

Ford's article is much of the same.  He really isn't saying that people should be consulted - he is saying that people should seem to be consulted, because that will drive traffic.

I must confess.  I like to hear intelligent opinions from intelligent people.  I like it because it is encourages me to change.  I found myself rethinking - and on two occasions, researching - my sage tables point system on account of the opinions people had.

I encourage consultation because I want an alternate perspective.  Not because I care about this blog's traffic.

Much of the time, I feel that the sort of consultation people are prepared to give is not very helpful. Consider, for example, my wiki.

Virtually everything that has been added to the wiki has come about from consideration, consultation and experimentation.  There may be a few things there that I'm putting up because I am proposing a rule where no rule previously existed.  Even there, that rule includes my experience with other rules that I feel never did work.

Would I appreciate consultation on the wiki?  On some level, yes.  I'd love to have someone who tested the links and remarked upon some of the confusing language, when clearly I haven't fully processed my thinking.  I'd love someone who could go in an correct spelling errors without needing to ask me first, or fix typos and other grammatical errors.

But do I want someone to come in and propose a different system for weapons' damage?  No, not really.  This, however, is what I could count upon.

Yesterday, JB - a regular reader - wrote a post about the skill set offered by the old Empire of the Petal Throne.  In the article he mentions a few of the skills, but obviously he doesn't want to just reprint a skill set from a published game.  That's quite reasonable.  It's not a bad post.  Where my interest lies, however, is in the first comment, where DungeonMastahWieg writes, ". . . makes me want to come up with a list of basic skills."

Now, I would rush in there and 'consult' by pointing out that I have skill set lists and even a character generator that Wieg should look at - only, in following the link, I discover that Wieg runs the blog, Save vs. Poison.  A blog that has been in existence since 2009.  When Wieg's name used to be Ryan.

Ryan, who entered my online campaign as Kazimir, also back in 2009.  When he rolled up a character using my basic skills system.

Now, let me make myself clear.  Wieg/Ryan wasn't that fond of my online campaign, he didn't have time for it and as far as I know, we parted without any hard feelings.  Nor am I in anyway upset that he was interested by the EPT's skill system as described by JB and not the one I actually used to create his character, which I posted in 2008.  That's perfectly fine.  I'm quite sure that Wieg/Ryan doesn't remember that post.  It's all good.

My larger point is that Wieg/Ryan's comment on JB's post is extraordinarily typical of the sort of interplay and 'consultation' going on back and forth between blogs on the internet.  Even though Save vs. Poison has been around for five or six years, the response was made as though the idea of a secondary skill system had never remotely occurred to Wieg/Ryan.  As though, in some way, this is new!  The same can be said of JB's post, which really is nothing more than a mild rehash of a few things printed what, 36 years ago?

While I am perfectly fine sharing the webspace with other bloggers, the more the merrier and all that, where it comes to 'consultation' on what I'm doing or what I'm designing, I must argue that the idea is patently ridiculous.  I'm very sorry.  Most of you are busy proposing rules invented three decades ago, while I've spent this time working.

Has this made me popular?  Of course not.  Will this post help?  Oh, it might send waves among the unctuous gossip bitches of the online blogger community, but that won't mean much.  They'll just spend a lot of time demanding to know why they weren't consulted before I wrote this post.

I would love some help, some REAL help, from people who have consciously tried to educate themselves as to why parts of the game don't work.  Now and then, it's good to hear from someone who, like Jhandar recently, will propose a solution to a problem that is already hopelessly dead in the water, because then I get to write a post about why Munchkins exist and how that works.  I crave, however, the more thoughtful insight provided by Jhandar and others when they really dig into the game's structure.

Nevermind why it doesn't work.  How are we going to make it work?  That's the bigger issue.  I'm quite tired of the 'why doesn't it work' discussions.  I've had many of them for quite some time.  I suppose I'm ready to move on now.

Sorry I didn't consult anyone about that.