Wednesday, April 18, 2018

The Decision Quandary

The following sequence rose from events played between May 2 and May 3, 2012

Prior to these events, the party had just fought a 31-round battle against an excessive number of kobalds (I've forgotten exactly, I believe more than 80), with the help of 21 dwarves and a non-player hireling, Klaas.  As shown in the image below, made when my art abilities were somewhat less than what they are now, this led them to a storage room, filled with sacks of grain, barrels of beer and buckets of pitch.

Image indicates positions after investigating the orange colored storeroom, upper left.

Following the usual after-combat discussions about searching bodies, collecting weapons, splitting loot, designating search groups, setting up watches, the party descends into the storeroom with an eye to searching it.  Throughout this time, the party is asking questions, describing their actions and at the same time, "role-playing."  This last describes the pattern of expressing how they feel about the last fight, their emotions about finding loot and treasure, supporting each other's participation and various other elements that any DM will recognize from having run a few games.  At some point I should write a commentary on this sort of thing, but the example here is fairly confusing due to a lot of other references and so it is a situation I can discuss at another time.

So instead, let's pick up the story as Andrej the Cleric casts a detect malevolence spell, then ventures towards the cavern that is shown in blue, to the left of the storeroom:
DM: From 2605 you can't see much - There is some kind of large cavern between where 2303 and 2305 slopes down. And just for a moment Andrej catches sight of a ... wing. It extends out into Andrej's line of vision and then disappears again. The wing appeared to be about the size of a bedroll.
Andrej: Bat-like? Bird-like? ::gulp:: Dragon-like?
DM: Correct answer ~ ::gulp::

Normally, the correct manner in which such a disclosure should be managed is not to blatantly state the case; this builds up tension and intrigue, while maintaining the strict access to information that the character should have.  In order to learn more about what the wing belongs to, the players should have to actually enter the cavern, letting their imaginations feed their fear.

However, here we are talking about a dragon.  My personal feeling is that, given the name, a full-grown dragon should be the scariest, most powerful monster in the game, short of a demi-god.  I've written rules for that purpose.  The practical and terrifying aspect of meeting such a creature is, therefore, more than sufficient to establish all the fear and stress that we could possibly want.  As a DM, because the players are only 3rd or 4th level here (Lukas is 1st, but realizes he is 2nd after the Kobald's experience is passed around), I'm not anxious to force them into the cavern, as though they are fighting another group of mere kobalds.  I created the description of the wing specifically to serve as a warning, to give the players foreknowledge ~ and it worked because the player jumped on the detail perfectly.  Letting the player be right in this instance serves to give them a little confidence; knowing what's in front of them, they can prepare and plan to face it.

Even though it is a very small dragon, they need confidence.  Note the immediate reaction from the other two players:
Ahmet the Fighter [upstairs and quite a long way away]: Ahmet resolutely guards the door. Good luck down there fellas!
Lukas the Mage [in the storeroom]: I guess dragons are one way to keep the beer cold. And they would probably do a fair job of keeping kobolds in line. Tell you what, Andrej you distract it while I thaw out this pitch ...
Andrej: Yeah, I'll get right on that.

When you're DMing, keep conscious of this sort of exchange.  It gives a lot of information.  Some parties might respond with something like "oh, shit," and a DM might be tempted to think the above is exactly the opposite of that.  In fact, it's the party has probably reacted just like you expect only they feel compelled to make a joke, cover up their concern and emotionally separate themselves from what's happening.  They've been hit hard by the information and they're "dealing with it."

Of course, that can go too far.  A party that starts with a joke or two can quickly fall into a massive derailment of the game for several minutes, which can manifest as a) more jokes; b) mockery of the DM, or c) actual anger.  It's important with these things to understand what is going on in the mind of the player.

If there are more jokes, these can usually be allowed to run their course.  When the players are done, they'll still have to deal with the existence of the dragon, so that the desired tension of the situation will naturally reassert itself.  If at all possible (and it won't be easy), the DM can keep quite a lot of control over the situation by not taking part in the jokes.  It's a good time to watch the players react, consider in your mind what's coming next, remain cool and calm and detached, staring at them like a doctor would at a collection of asylum patients.  The more serious you remain, the more impact the situation will have, even as the players are making jokes.

Some players will, as a means of getting control over a DM, as a matter of gamesmanship, blurt out a statement like, "Oh, RIGHT!  You would throw a dragon at us, wouldn't you?  Like that isn't obvious!"  The trick here is to make you, the DM, feel that you are somehow incompetent because you've reached for a dragon to occupy this cavern rather than some other more interesting monster, or at least one more acceptable to the player.  Note that the stipulation may not be so overt; there are a hundred subtle ways in which a player can make their personal sense of injustice known, from adopting a silent, cold shoulder response to subtle, verbose references to how many hit points the character has left or how many fights they've been forced to participate in without an opportunity to rest.  However delicate, however, any argument that steps out of the character's perspective of the problem (what the character sees, what the character can manage, what the character will do) and into the realm of Player-vs.-DM (sometimes called the meta-game) is a red flag.  The DM cannot allow a player to become emotionally, personally manipulative without jeopardizing the DM's authority.

This does not mean the DM can land with both feet on the player.  Very often, this will enable the player to adopt an attitude of victimhood, putting the DM in the position of having to defend an aggressive behaviour against an attitude that is certain to be completely below the radar of other players.  YOU may be aware of the distinction between a character complaining about the dragon and the player complaining about the dragon; but chances are, the other players won't.  The best thing to do is to take a strong, firm stand, state the presence of the dragon (or other thing) as established and incontestable, make a mental note about the player and decide, in time, if the player should be allowed to continue playing.  In any case, any specific discussions about the player's attitude should be had one-on-one, without any other players present.

On the other hand, if the player does get angry, answering the presence of the dragon with a direct "Fuck you" at the DM, that can be handled at once. Of course, the expression might be a joke; it might be an absent-minded stress response that can, and should be utterly ignored.  A spontaneous, burst-out emotion is human.  If it becomes an extended rant, however, you have a problem player on your hands and you should deal with it at once.

To wrap this up, remember also that a friendly, joking exchange is also a sign of a party acting and thinking together, in a very positive, constructive way.  By sharing some emotional jokes, they prop each other up and serve as a joint support system for everyone participating.  If a moment of stress does get this sort of response, all the participants present ~ DM and Players ~ are actively creating a great interactive and immersive experience.

Let's pick up the narrative again:
Andrej: For the sake of thoroughness, does Andrej's Field of Study & specialty: Legends & Folklore (Legendary Beasts) provide any insight or confirmation to his suspicions that this is a white dragon?
Lukas: Actually that may be more possible a plan than I thought. Do you think warming one cubic feet of pitch by 22 degrees might be enough to make it viable?

At once, I have found that when faced with an unusual threat, parties will seek to innovate at the highest level possible.  Breath weapons are egregious and thus demand maximum effort.  That said ... it must be said that a party can get, well, a bit desperate.  Having seen no more than a wing, and having the DM confirm that it is a dragon, and knowing the chamber is full of ice, the player wants confirmation on their suspicions and unfortunately, I can't really give that.  Even if the player knows exactly what a white dragon looks like (and the sage ability here provides reasonable assurance there), that doesn't mean the character is able to recognize this dragon as a white one.  But I always do my best to make the questions seem reasonable:
DM: A white dragon seems a reasonable guess ... but it might also be an ice lizard.
Looking it up, you'd have to increase the pitch to at least 60 degrees C to soften it, and at least 80 to 125 degrees C to liquify it (and even then it wouldn't stay liquid for long). At present, the pitch is about 2 degrees C ... so I'm afraid the answer is no.
Andrej: Given the amount of wing that Andrej saw, could he estimate how large the creature is?

In the exchange that follows, about dragon physics and the size of dragon wings [which I won't reproduce here] the player proceeds to answer his own question.  At any case, since a dragon is full-grown at a very young age (like a horse), knowing the size alone is not sufficient to knowing how dangerous a dragon is.  The general discourse reveals nothing whatsoever about the dragon's size, so it wastes a little time ... but that, too, is part of the game.

It can be annoying if this kind of discourse seizes every action and discourse between Players and DM, but it is almost impossible to eradicate from a game where misunderstandings proliferate like bunnies.  Players need to have things explained ... and in a case where a dragon crops up, the stakes are raised to the point where the explanations need to be sharp as razors.

Next comes the needful discussion:
Andrej: Assuming we're now all back together... what do you guys think? Do we try the unlocked door or fight a dragon? 
On the one hand, we don't know how tough the creature truly is, the terrain is slippery and likely to foul us up, the entrance to its cave is a single-file bottleneck and we're already depleted from ravaging a tribe of kobalds. Further, it's not really impeding our progress at all we can simply bypass it and focus on the keep, so there's no good reason to attack it.
On the other hand, it's a big lizard.
Ahmet: As much as Ahmet would love to tangle with a dragon, I vote to bypass it. We have a mission. When we slay the Bishop and all get healed, we can come back to play with the lizard.
Andrej: One vote to bypass. Lukas?

This is fairly usual stuff ~ and most DMs would leave the party to it, without jogging their elbow.  I am not of that sentiment, however.  I'm anxious to ensure that information the party won't think of is neatly drawn to their attention ... and at the same time, the conversation they're having is in front of a group of dwarven NPCs, the leader of whom is Frith.  Naturally, if the party wants to fight the dragon the dwarves will be involved, and therefore Frith is going to want a say:
Frith: Did you see if it has a means of escaping the tunnels?  Could it fly out and attack the forces storming the castle?

I suppose I should explain that all this is deep in the bowels of a mountain upon which a castle stands, way above the party's position.  The party has found a back way in; and has the help of the dwarves, because the commander of the assaulting force assigned the dwarves to the party.  So, technically, Frith's loyalty is split; he is there to help the party, kill the denizens under the castle and risk his life, and the life of his men, if need be; but he is also concerned what he might be unleashing on the forces that are on the surface.  An angry dragon strafing the castle's attackers is not to be requested.

These are my ONLY motivations for inserting the dwarf's question.  I am not trying to manipulate the party at all; but the party is not acting inside a vacuum. The presence of the dwarves is as much a part of the world that the party is navigating as are the kobalds, the storage room and the dragon.  If the party takes on the benefit of the NPCs, they must also take on responsibilities to the motivations of those NPCs.

I do see how easy it is to force the party to act in a particular way, by using the dwarves as leverage.  However, part and parcel with this is the recognition that the dwarves would not be assigned to these players by the commander unless the commander cared about the well-being of Ahmet, Andrej and Lukas.  Which is the case.  Earlier in the campaign, they performed a service to the commander which has not been forgotten.

Back to the debate:
Lukas: Furthermore, who is to say it [the dragon] won't just squeeze in behind us at an inopportune moment?
Ahmet: [said out of campaign: you guys are gluttons for punishment]. Ahmet's eyes twinkle at the opportunity to slay a dragon. Can he think of any reason, from a mining/underground perspective, as to the purpose of the pitch?
DM: Cash value? Stored for use in repairing holes?

Players almost always assume that everything that exists in a dungeon or an adventure was put there specifically because it forms some key, integral part of the adventure.  This is the result of a literary principle, commonly described as "Chekhov's Gun":
  • "Remove everything that has no relevance to the story. If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it's not going to be fired, it shouldn't be hanging there."

This is excellent advice when creating any sort of literary structure; it simply isn't necessary to bore a reader with extraneous information that wastes the reader's time.  The key to good literature is to fit the various details together in a way the reader will not immediately understand, thus creating uncertainty in tension.

Because video games aspire to the respectability of literature, they will also adhere to Chekov's rules.  However, an open-world game, such as an expansive video game or a role-playing game, doesn't need to fit into the narrative of a 120-minute theatre piece, or even an 11-hour audio book.  Real life does not adhere to Chekov's rules ... at all.  Real life is filled with all sorts of extraneous, useless bits of things and information that are just there.  In my game, I don't concoct all the details of a given structure as though the players were the only inhabitants.  Sometimes, pitch is collected in piles because the surrounding lands are a forest, and it is convenient to store pitch in a cool place, where it hardens ~ like deep under a castle.

In the narrative, Andrej admits to seeing no other exit in the cavern; using the spell to find the dragon, he did not stick around to visually map the room.  There then follows a discussion about healing salves (hit points being an important detail at this point).  The central debate goes on in between talk about the salves:
DM: Frith will tell Batath to take two dwarves and to have a look at the cave, to take no action but to see all he's able to see. Batath chooses Salth and Balther.

As a military man, Frith is concerned about reconnaissance, while the party talks.
Lukas: I bet fire dragons find pitch like taffy. I prefer to imagine them getting it as a dragon treat before they got a frost dragon. I also like to believe frost dragons are both fond of potatoes and beer. If we're lucky maybe it's a vegetarian?
Andrej: While the dwarves scout, Andrej samples some small amount of beer from one of the barrels in hex 2603 with his wooden mug. If sufficiently tasty he fills the mug and passes it to Lukas. Might as well die happy.
DM: Beer tastes like Isenbeck Pilsener.
Batath will return to explain that there are three entrances to the cave; 2304, just beyond 2307, and past 2209. They're all five feet wide, and they all have a slope but no stairs. It does appear to be a dragon - white and blue in color. There is an enormous tunnel leading out of the roof. The cave is covered in ice and is about 40 x 40 feet.
Batath could identify gold and other metals buried under mounded, crystal blue ice.

Now, there I am indulging in a little coercion.  I very definitely want the party to understand that there is treasure in that room, as an enticement.  Treasure hasn't been mentioned; but at the same time, these are experienced players and they all know that there is bound to be treasure in the chamber.  Still, rubbing that in won't hurt.

I must admit I don't understand Lukas' observations above.  I have to ascribe them to a certain resistance to taking the proposed risk.  Note that Andrej is quite direct about the existence of the risk in all his comments; but he seems to be asking for someone else to make the decision.  Ahmet also wavers back and forth, deliberately avoiding the actual question.  And Lukas repeatedly takes notice of details that are quite unimportant.

I'm quite sure at this point that if I had the dwarves decide to throw themselves into a fight with the dragon, the players would join in.  It is almost like the players are asking me to do that, rather than putting them in the position of saying yay or nay, or having to ask the dwarves to join them.  See the dialogue below as evidence (still between discussion of healing themselves):
Andrej: [discussing the beer]  Ah, Paderborn's own. His excellency has good taste, at least. Lukas, you must have some. Pass it along.
Ahmet: Bring on the wyrm!
Andrej: Andrej asks Batath his opinion on the footing in the cave. Could our force engage in melee there without falling on our asses? Also, we should revisit the pitch idea ...
Finally, we should also at least peek behind the large door we have yet to open before we decide upon any course of action. Is Frith willing to send dwarves to scout that as well?
Ahmet: Ahmet, as a good quasi-Muslim, declines any offers of beer. In the meantime, he retrieves his heavy crossbow from Klaas and "two-thirds" loads it, so it will take one more round to load it and then can be fired the second round.
DM: Batath is sure the force will slip around on the floor - then has an inspiration. If the pitch could be at least softened to the point where it could be scraped from the surface, perhaps it could be applied to boots to make them sticky.

It is quite easy to get frustrated as these discussions spin out.  I wish I had not had the thought of applying the pitch to boots to make them sticky; after a moment's searching, I soon realized that it was utterly impractical.  I'm sure that my frustration at the lack of a decision here ~ or even recognizing that a decision needed to be made ~ was at play.

Note that at no time does Ahmet definitely seek a consensus from anyone else, even as he is loading a crossbow (as though the decision was made).  Note Andrej's desire to review the pitch "idea," though in fact no idea exists, except for my lame one, put in the mouth of one of the NPCs.  At least I can ascribe the idea to the NPC's ignorance [thank you].

As regards to the large door that Andrej mentions, they haven't got that door open yet, nor are they sure they can get it open.  Some dwarves go to look at it.  The party discusses intoxication, I concoct some rules that will give hit points and reduce ability stats (I have some pretty solid rules for intoxication on the wiki, that didn't exist in 2012) and I explain the pitch idea won't work.  The discussion continues.  Ahmet makes no further comments about readying himself for a fight.   I reveal that the door can be opened easily, so the party doesn't need to fight the dragon.  There's some discussion of getting the hireling, Klaas, intoxicated, as he's very low on hit points.  The dragon is mentioned.  There's more discussion about the beer, and it's possible intoxicating effects.

Finally, after a long going around, hardly discussing the dragon at all, Andrej brings up the subject again.  Here are snippets of his one-man discussion, until Ahmet answers him:
Andrej: Leaving dwarves behind might not be an option, but if Frith is agreeable I'm now suddenly worried about having enough of a force for the dragon. It's probably quite young (I hope) but still dangerous, particularly with Alexis's mass rules, incidental damage, stunning and the terrain.
By comparison, our aborted and ill-conceived rush at the front gate seems saner in my view.Now that I've had time to consider it more I think your initial idea regarding Klaas is best. Have him man the crossbow. I just wanted to peek behind the door, not tie somebody to it.
Alexis, a Bless spell helps bolster morale... would this help a player-character make a fear check? Description below [see wiki]
As part of our preparations Andrej conducts a short mass and blesses all Catholics, including himself. That would be Lukas, Klaas (I believe), Andrej and that's it unless there are Catholic dwarves. Andrej mentions aloud that if Zoft has a blessing he's been saving, now might be the time to apply it.
Finally, don't forget we have 6 flasks oil with rags in them unless the dwarves somehow used more than the three they were allotted. Andrej used only one then abandoned that tactic after nearly setting a pyramid of dwarves on fire. I intend to make my first attack with the oil. Anybody else?

This is not the first time I have found myself waiting for the exchange that says, ~"Are we fighting the dragon" ~"Yes, we are fighting the dragon."  In one moment, Andrej expresses his misgivings; then immediately after talks about the bless spell; then what he's going to do first when he attacks. But as yet, there is no consensus.  Nor does it come when the others answer:
Ahmet: After we peek, I would like to quickly erect some kind of temporary barricade against the door, if we can arrange it.  Are you SURE you just don't want to bypass the baby dragon? It just seems suicidal given the terrain. It's like the otyugh, but with a breath weapon.  And even if we inflict some damage on it -- it's just going to fly away.
Andrej: If it flies away we've weakened it at least... and we have its treasure! I'm not determined to see it dead, Ahmet, but Frith and Lukas seemed to be. I'm willing to give it a shot.
Lukas: Avoiding may not help, like I said, it might just come up behind us. Though torching it then shooting until it walks through the inferno might help.

Let me be clear.  This is all perfectly understandable, however difficult it may be to follow the logic of each player.  Everyone wants to fight the dragon.  Being the level they are, no one wants to die.  There's no certainty that it's my intention for the party to fight the dragon; I might have made the dragon dreadfully strong, so that I could say afterwards, "You had the choice not to fight it."  Many DMs play that way.

I would not say that I had balanced the dragon for the party.  I had, largely, balanced the dragon for the party plus the dwarves; altogether, they would have probably been able to take the dragon on and kill it.  That doesn't mean that individuals wouldn't have died.  Nothing guarantees that all of the player characters would have made it, or indeed any of the player characters.  But this is what risk is. It is taking the chance to see what would happen if the dragon was fought.  I definitely did not include the dragon as a yes/no choice: fight the dragon and die, avoid the dragon and live.  Personally, I find that an abhorrent way to run any adventure.  The answer should ALWAYS be, fight the dragon and find out what happens, avoid the dragon and find out what happens.

The party did not fight the dragon.  In the end, moments before the fight, the party chose to take advantage of my interactive mechanic at the time (now mostly, but not entirely, dead) to parley with the dragon.  They make a deal with the dragon, provide it with some of the beer and some recently dead kobald bodies (which it was fed from time to time), and in exchange receive the security that the dragon is not going to follow along behind them ~ which it couldn't anyway, as it could not even reach the beer in the storeroom.

As a result, the party took virtually no risk.  And received, in turn, virtually no benefit, except peace of mind.  No risk, no reward.  That's how it ought to work.

The players are trapped, however, in trying to figure out my motivation for putting the dragon there ... when really, they shouldn't be.  The dragon serves no actual purpose!  But years and years of playing games where every nook and cranny serves a purpose gets into a player's head, to the point where they can't boil the problem down to its first principles.  Can we fight the dragon?  Do we want to fight the dragon?  Are we going to fight the dragon?  And if so, how?  And ultimately, when?

All other discussion is human resistance to the problem, whether it is distrust of the DM, uncertainty of their own abilities, fear, inability to be decisive or simple mistrust of the other players.  Any of these can short-circuit a party's ability to act ... and that in turn can spin out a single session into a great deal of purposeless talk.

At some point I should have suspended all discussion except answering the questions I've just asked.  But I wanted to let the party work it out on their own; which has its own value.  The players must learn to act without being coddled by the DM.  But the above is what can happen if players are left alone.  That is sometimes how it must be.  There is no right answer.  We can, however, examine, deconstruct and understand what is happening, to make ourselves better prepared to manage it.

This quandary can be one of the most difficult problems a DM has to face.