Paths diverged (the future of D&D)

A few years back, I wrote about my long-term vision for D&D in this post. As I reimmerse myself in the game after some time away, and after having spent many, many hours reflecting on settings, homebrew vs. published worlds, and previous campaigns prior to launching with Phelan, Khadhras, and Ged, I finally feel a true framework for my future DM endeavors beginning to unfold.

For months (even years), I’ve been at odds with the ideas of building out my own world vs. giving up the massive investments I’ve made (and continue to make) in Forgotten Realms (and, to a lesser extent, Ravenloft). Though it’s early, I’ve started to bridge these opposing forces in the High Forest campaign, while also stirring the longevity cauldron by forging a path with Jason to further Zeb’s legacy. I don’t want these efforts to be mutually exclusive, nor do I want either of them to prevent me from executing on other D&D initiatives that I’ve placed on the backburner for so long.

In short, just because I’m actively working on a particular D&D project doesn’t mean that other campaigns should retire, will retire, aren’t “canon” within the space I run, or won’t be allowed to come to fruition. This isn’t a complex idea, but it’s something I’ve had difficulty believing and coming to terms with. Kicking off the latest 1:1 track with Zeb* has been an essential catalyst: our content is too good, too deep, too historied to not continue on with for as long as we want it to go. But neither should the greatness of Zeb’s story preclude other arcs from being played, nor other worlds from being developed for the long term.

The missing piece that I’ve talked about for years is a gritty, in-person AD&D game in the spirit of “halflings vs. ogres” (maybe even using Basic Fantasy!) that pulls hard on the simulationist strings. This would almost certainly not be in Realms, and when the time is right for such a game to begin, I’m not going to defer it because it would spell the end for Zeb, Phelan, Khadhras, or Ged... because it won’t.

Rather, what I see myself doing is having a few separate, ongoing DM tracks. They may not all move quickly, and each may wax and wane based on real-world happenings and where I’m most keen to invest at a given time. We’re all adults with families, jobs, and responsibilities, after all. In truth, I’ve already started down this road, but I think it’s important to disclaim it going forward, lest any players start to feel that their current campaign is in its death throes or that there won’t be additional opportunities to get involved in games I decide to run.

This post is little more than an introspective exercise for me to look back on later. When I think about D&D games that have been running for 40 years, the work of Erikson/Esslemont, Alexis Smolensk, and others, the value in history, consistency, richness, and depth is abundantly clear, and something I want to continue to strive for over time. It won’t be achieved by throwing away my last 20 years of DMing and starting from scratch, nor by failing to forge new paths into new endeavors and even new worlds for fear of losing all that's come before. The key is for it all to be interconnected in some way, even if subtle—as this is what will enable the web of time and space within and between campaigns to expand as the years go on.

* By the way, I know I wrote in the “Longevity” post that “If a PC dies based on dice rolls, I’m not going to intervene.” And, to be fair, I didn’t. The TPK happened and we moved on, started a new campaign arc with different characters. The party and campaign as we knew them were no more. In a high fantasy setting, though, with gods, magic, and other preternatural forces directly involved, I don’t feel in the wrong for having left a door open for Jason (or Sean, though he elected to close it). Zeb’s “rebirth” has come at great personal cost (both story and mechanical) and allows us to continue chronicling an epic character in an organic and nondisruptive way. Know that I didn’t take this decision lightly, and nothing short of the monumental set of circumstances surrounding these events would have allowed it to occur. If anyone believes otherwise, feel free to throw your current character in front of a raging orc horde and see what happens. :) 

Longevity

By all reasonable accounts, Zeb probably should be dead. It wasn't a miracle of the dice that stayed him, but weak judgment on my part. At the last minute (after a failed save had been rolled), I called into question whether a blinded dragon could reliably direct its breath weapon at unseen opponents, even with their last known location unchanged. In the moment, I decided this was too contentious to stake a character's life on, so I allowed Zeb to avoid the cloud, even though the full breath weapon damage would have killed him instantly. Erring on the side of the PCs isn't the worst thing in the world, but I probably leaned too far this time. Zeb can rightly acknowledge this as Malar having spared his meager life.

In light of the above, I've given much thought to the prospect of characters dying and what a tragic event like the loss of Zeb would mean for the campaign. If I felt like allowing a PC to die would spell the end of the game, that would severely burden my judgment when it comes to adjudicating deadly situations.

Fortunately, I think we're all on the same page that the campaign can continue, even under the most dire of circumstances. For the benefit of everyone, here are some points to live by going forward. This is effectively a charter as to my long-term vision for the game.

• If a PC dies based on dice rolls, I'm not going to intervene. It's hard, as DM, not to pull strings at times, but doing so deprives the players of a fairly run game and the experience of overcoming the death of a character.


• I don't expect (nor should anyone else expect) the campaign to end if a character gets killed. Obviously a TPK may result in a break in continuity at the very least, but either way, life in the game world goes on, just like in the real world. I see our campaign as being greater than any individual character; there's no critical plot artery that hinges on the survival of Zeb, Audric, or anyone else. We're full-on Game of Thrones, here.


• A player can either create a new character to replace a perished (or retired) one, or elect to take on a henchman as a full-fledged PC. New characters begin with the same starting XP as the original PCs and are expected to advance in level through play. This may mean that a new PC needs to be shielded from harm at times by the rest of the party in order to stay alive.


• Despite entering the game at a lower XP total, a new PC can normalize in level over time thanks to the AD&D experience tables. For example, a 1st-level, 0 XP Fighter and a 5th-level, 16,000 XP Fighter will both be 6th level, 40,000 XP later. (It's also reasonable to expect that a low-level PC will advance more quickly in a high-level party, since the party's XP awards will naturally be larger.)


• In the meantime, it's possible that other, established PCs will die/retire, or new players/henchmen cycle into the game. The original “new PC” may become a veteran before long.


• Under this system, the total power level of the party is likely to fluctuate over time. Many of us are used to games where the party only ascends in level and ability as the game progresses, up until the point that everyone retires and the campaign ends. In my model, we could look back six months from now and recognize this point in time as the peak power level of the campaign. This allows for organic continuity across years of gaming, with the ability to re-experience the early and mid levels again and again. A high-level character that sustains through it all is truly something to be valued.

I could probably write a book on this stuff, but these feel like the most important points, so I'll leave it here for now. Happy to discuss further in the comments.