Some who come to this space may wonder:

“What in hell is he talking about? Roleplaying game? Isn’t that kinda kinky?”

Well, yes, if you do it right.

Kidding, kidding. Mostly.

But more seriously, for the moms out there who have wondered what their offspring was wasting their time with for the last 30 years or so:

Roleplaying is creative, interactive, communal storytelling.

If you went out and did improv theater, parental units would get it, right? Oh, my son/daugher is an actor.

And everyone smiles and nods, and they knows whats goings on.

But they never say “my daughter, she creates a world vivid enough for six to eight other people to take up roles, and pretend to be part of that world. She then has to interpret all their actions, create a narrative, and play every other person in the universe. And it all has to be believable, internally consistent, and be part of an arc, without being too heavy handed.”

And everyone frowns, and thinks: “I wonder if that kid is going to go postal one day. After all, twice a year he dresses up in tights, puts on a weapon, and wanders around saying ‘thee’ and ‘yea, verily’ all day.” On the flip side, we usually get props for knowing Shakespeare, Chaucer, and Homer T. Greek, rather than Homer J. Simpson.

Why is that, do you think?

All GURPS damage has three parts to it, even if much of the time they’re implicit.

In order of how it’s applied, which is our first point of potential controversy!
1) Armor divisor. Yes, on a hit and a failed defense if one is allowed, the first thing you probably do as ask “how much armor, if any, is facing me.” If the answer is zero, you don’t do any math, and proceed directly to step 2. But the first thing you do is check to see if whatever DR (Damage Resistance) you’re facing, and reduce or increase it based on the type of attack you’re making. This can be a property of the damage type (some armors get altered stats vs. crushing, piercing, cutting weapons) or a property of the weapon itself (magic or high tech armor divisors, blunt tips or soft construction)
2) Basic Damage. This is the raw oomph of the attack. As discussed in a few places, this can be looked at as a raw ability to penetrate armor. I will assert that it is not yet a measure of wounding and injury. Yet. Basic damage is calculated as a function of the square root of Kinetic Energy for guns, the cube root of KE for most beam weapons, is optionally sqrt(KE) for bows (The Deadly Spring) or uses the strength plus adds model (thrust and swing) of melee weapons and muscle-powered ranged weapons.

3) Wound type, depth, and size. Finally, we get to put the hurt on. The damage here is given its true type, and some sort of multiplier is applied. Tiny bullets that are also slow get pi-, and injury is half penetration. Cutting weapons increase damage by 50%, while my least-favorite damage type, impaling, gets its penetration doubled for injury.

These three things are very, very useful, and have pretty good definitions, for firearms especially. But before we do that, why three? Why not just combine either the first and second two numbers? So instead of a gun (again, best maps to these three) that does 4d (2) pi-, which penetrates like 8d but wounds like 2d, why the frack don’t you just have something like 8d {4} – and note the curly brackets.

That’s Dougish? Hamptonian? I like Hamptonian. That’s Hamptonian for “what is in these brackets refers to wounding.”

Anyway, that might mean “roll 8d for penetration, but divide penetration by 4 for injury.”

You could also just write 2d (4), with the conventional sense used in GURPS, for “this will do 2d injury, but divides any armor by 4.”

Both have a nice symmetry and sensibility to them. So why make things more complicated? As +Peter V. Dell’Orto likes to say, “Where’s the Awesome?”

Back to guns, because they map well. Each of these things represents a very distinct set of properties.

Let’s start with #2. The raw damage (penetration) rating of a gun – or more exactly, it’s projectile – is determined as a function of only two things: the kinetic energy of the bullet and its caliber. If you fire a 10mm diameter chunk of anything with 720 Joules of energy, you’re going to get about 3d+1 damage (the official formula used by +Hans-Christian Vortisch and +David Pulver might come in at 3d; regardless, given those two things, that’s what you get).

But what if that projectile is made of tungsten carbide? Or generic copper-jacketed lead? Or hell, maybe it’s a frozen 10mm marshmallow.  What if, instead of a blunt pistol bullet, it’s shaped more like a spike than an ogive? If the projectile is strong enough to survive delivering it’s own energy content (this may be, after some analysis, why the real-world data for the 55gr 5.56x45mm only penetrates 5d instead of the 5d+1 or 5d+2 my calculations suggest . . . the energy it carries is enough to overwhelm the cohesion of its component materials, so it can’t effectively deliver all them joules. Certainly it can’t be because my Excel spreadsheet model is wrong. Nah.)

That’s where #1 comes in. It can separate out the effects of hardness and geometry from raw energy. Because you might want to do that, since energy is a useful thing to know, especially when it comes to breaking up homogeneous objects.

OK, you’re through the crunchy shell. Now you’re in the chewy center. If that projectile fragments, or just pokes a thin hole, it might pass through a body without doing much permanent damage . . . or the wound could be terrible and grotesque (and if you’re read DiMaio you’ve seen some gross stuff) because the energy is all used to destroy, rather than stretch, heat, or harmlessly displace tissue.

So some sort of efficiency factor that gives the size of the wound channel relative to energy content is useful. This is especially true when you relax our caliber restriction. If you have a high-energy, high caliber weapon that penetrates like 4d, and a finned, hardened, skinny dart, that also penetrates like 4d, but really is 2d(2), the first might be something like 4d pi++, where it wounds like 8d. The second might even be 2d (2) pi-, where it destroys objects like 2d (due to energy dump if it doesn’t blow through), but in humans, really only delivers a 1d wound.

For hand weapons, you could easily see the use. If you’re trying to overwhelm the armor of something, having it hard, perhaps magically hard, will amplify the basic energy you can put into swinging a weapon. If you are ST 14 (about twice as powerful as an average schmo in GURPS), and swing a 2-lb. stick where most of the weight is in the head, you can write down something like “swing 2d” on your character sheet. If that weapon head is concentrating force into a tiny area, like a pick or war hammer, you could perhaps note that by giving it an armor divisor. So the war hammer might do 2d (2), which is kinda a lot, but you could also impart fractional armor divisors if you love math and hate your fellow players. Or if you use a computer. But when that pick sticks into you, if it’s really long, you can see that might be awful. If it’s maybe short and pyramidal, it might punch the armor fine, but not reach deeply enough inside you to really rock your world, internal-organ-wise. (This is unlikely to be true, since your ribcage will deform under impact, allowing the beak to reach the center . . . unless you are deforming more armor to do that, in which case the wound could be very shallow.)

If you put an axe-head on it, you can see that spreading out the force into a long line will be bad for penetration, increasing the effect of armor. That might be an armor divisor of (0.75) or something. Perhaps even more, like (0.5). But you can also see that the wide wound will be truly awful on an unarmored person.

I personally think that having both armor divisors and wound severity modifiers makes a lot of sense, and that both are useful. Certainly, if one were to ever come up with a meta-system that integrated hand weapons, blunt trauma, bullets, bows, sharp sticks, and harsh language into one black box that output GURPS weapon stats, I could see a real utility to allow more moving parts rather than fewer, both for nuance as well as resolution.

So, here I am, having traveled half a world away. While the primary purpose of my trip is still solid, I had a host of other people to do and things to see while I was here. Or something like that.

But turns out, seems as if much of the management staff is off in training or on leave, as least of those whom it would be pretty useful for me to see.
Made me think, over lunch, how often GMs successfully use this element of what is effectively Clausewitz’s friction in their games. Sometimes stuff just happens, and the taxi is late, the person you need to see has the flu, or rather than walk neatly into your trap, the enemy platoon gets lost in the woods.
Would it help immersion, or just be annoying? Real life and real time happen without our choice in the matter. But gathered around a gaming table, is it mostly “yeah, yeah, we’ve got three hours to play, and I’m not in the mood to kill time waiting for the right result on your Random Annoyances Table.”
I’d love to hear of good examples of this being used both well and poorly.

Today I got to play in +Jeromy French ‘s +Pathfinder Roleplaying Game  Pirates campaign.

My character is a third (now fourth after today’s session) level Rogue-based piratey type. My background for him was that he was a fairly neglected half-elf, whose father was a wandering Sea Elf (or some such). He fell to no good fairly early. He’s a bowman, rapier specialist, and does fairly well with a dagger, thrown or stabbity.

Important skill levels include Stealth +13, Perception +12, Disable Device +9, Appraise +8, and Sense Motive and Professional Skill: Sailor both at +7.  He’s also got 6 ranks in Merchant, Slight of Hand, Acrobatics, Bluff, and Escape Artist. Plus some onesy-twosies here and there.

I thought of him as going ashore in advance of his crew, locating departing ships, appraising whether their goods were worth stealing, maybe sneaking aboard or bluffing his way on as a passenger, and then helping to disable the target from the inside. Fouling sails at the last minute, cutting cords on ballistae and crossbows . . . that sort of unwholesome behavior.

He’s turned into the bowman of the group (duh, elf-kin) and while not exactly a front-line fighter, he holds his own. Well, when the dice don’t hate him. Which they do. A lot.

Anyway, Pelagiyel (he goes by “Pel”) got coshed on the head and stuck aboard a ship with a Big Important Pirate Captain, and a bunch of lesser thugs. We captured another ship, and were part of the caretaker crew with some really sadistic officers from the original ship.

Naturally, we mutinied, killed our former tormentors, and are now budding pirates. Arrr!


The game is played over Google Hangouts, using webcams for telepresence. The game aid is +Tabletop Forge , and it seems to do a credible job, though I’ll admit I like +RPTools ‘ MapTools better for the game interface.

I really enjoy the face-to-face (or electron-to-electron) aspect of it, combined with the computer interface where everyone has access to the Evil Die Roller From Hell, we can all throw up links and jokes in the Chat window without disturbing the flow of the game directly, and it’s VERY hard for the GM’s cat (notional cat; I’m not sure if Jeromy has a cat) to jump up on the table and disrupt the tokens.

I do miss the beer and pizza sharing.

It’s a fun game, and a great group.


If only the game engine were more polished.

I’m a relative novice at Pathfinder. I’ll admit my last real experience with Dungeons and Dragon was a single session (maybe two?) of DnD 3ed from 2000-2005 or so (yes, it’s likely been that long), before that was probably a single game in 1997 before I finished grad school, and then before that I was a teenager or even a pre-teen.

Anyone who thinks GURPS complicated really needs to do a bit of a reality check. 🙂 Coming from decades of GURPSiness to Pathfinder, I find it a fairly bewildering set of special cases. The class/level system is off-putting, and the characters are pretty low-powered. The tendency to metagame is large (“What level is our pirate captain, approximately? Level 10? So basically he can wipe the floor with all of us and not break a sweat, even if we can sneak up on him? OK. New plan.”) though I’ll admit it’s a great shorthand for relative power level. Since combat skills go up level by level, it’s useful for understanding threat in a way that GURPS points usually are not.

The thing that really gets me, though, is the 1d20+X skill test system. The flat-distribution system is not my friend, and I don’t ever really feel that I have a good notion for what Pel can accomplish. It doesn’t help that the dice have been wickedly not my friend in this campaign. (No, really. In today’s game, it actually became perhaps the first group in-joke.)

That being said, if you treat the dice as a narrative rather than simulation aid, (though again, the old WEG d6 system is better for this than Pathfinder or GURPS) it helps a bit. I find rolling for initiative quite fun, and there is inherent satisfaction to leveling up.


I don’t think I’d choose to RUN a Pathfinder game, though I’m sure I’d have an easier time finding players than for GURPS. But my experience here has reinforced an old bias:

It’s who you play with, not what you play, that drives the level of fun.

Over the next week while I’m in Malaysia, I will be playing in at least one, if not two gaming sessions at various times. One will be the next-best thing to an actual face-to-face game, using Google Hangouts and TableTop Forge to do video conferencing. The other uses MapTools and is a GURPS Dungeon Fantasy game.

Of the two interfaces, I prefer MapTools for the actual game play. It’s got much niftier macros, is user-editable (and given the proclivities of the group I game with, I don’t have to do hardly any of it), and has really neat tracking features for GURPS  I’m sure it also has nifty tracking features for other games as well. The die-roller is top notch, it can (and does!) have critical hit tables built in, and it will parse out text and dice in one line (to be fair, TTForge does the same thing, but less so).

The thing I really like about Hangouts is the video aspect of it. I find it more immersive to see people’s faces, and interact. I feel worse about leaving the gaming table to do other things than the MapTools game, which is chat-based (it may well have video; we do not use it).

Given how hard it can be to find 6-10 available folks to come over, leave their home, family, kids at a given time on a given schedule, being able to play with people anywhere in the world is just awesome.

And when you combine that with the power of the medium: the computer’s ability to handle complexity, seamlessly build in many levels of rules and rolls? Clearly this has the opportunity to be the platform of the future.

I’ve heard of folks using MineCraft to design 3D dungeons. I’ve heard about other packages being used too, such as CAD tools and even things like Home Designer Suite. It would be fairly straight-forward to make map-creation be a few clicks, and then a beautiful and rendered 3D environment could be presented to the players, from nearly any view using the various camera features available in packages.

The rules engine could be automated or semi-automated, pulling from a character-creation program like GURPS Character Assistant.

Defaults, skill checks, and not having to worry too much about the “one roll is good, two is barely satisfactory, and three rolls to do a task slows play unacceptably) because all of that can be handled with a button click? I think that would be great, though it could also promote lazy game design.

All in all, I of course don’t expect to see GURPS Fifth Edition, AI-enhanced any time soon. But it’s logical to imagine the blending of computer game aids with actual rules and resolution mechanisms.

Boy, though: that would be skill-intensive. Not only would you have to be a good game designer, but you’d also have to have some mad coding skills. Perhaps a sufficiently strong mechanics-engine could be made in a rules-neutral way for any company to build on (yeah, I don’t see that happening, but it would help).

Until that time, I will revel in the ability for me to participate in a game where “the guy seated to my left, well, on the left side of the screen” is probably 9,000 miles away, and be able to laugh real-time at the bad jokes.

The spy creeps through the building, making no noise whatsoever. Even ninjas would have marveled at his stealth, cunning, and patience. At last, he enters the room containing his prey. He extracts his silenced pistol, levels it at his target’s head. He will destroy the man, and sneak out the way he came, no one the wiser.

The custom-tuned 9mm pistol is well balanced in his hand, and he gently squeezes the trigger.

BLAM! The 130 dB noise that results is as loud as the percussion section at a symphony, a jackhammer, or a pneumatic drill. The entire house wakes up, the spy is caught and executed on the spot. His sponsoring organization goes down in a terrible scandal.

At that point, the spy’s player starts pelting his GM with dice and beating him with hardcover copies of the Basic Set. The supporting cast, who helped get that spy into position, are looking at him with that sort of flinty gaze that promises the GM will be footing the bill for pizza, chips, and soda himself for a while if he wants to keep the group running.

This actually happened to me, sort of. I was running an adventure I called OMEN TOWER, which was an adventure I’d written for a Black Ops campaign (and turned into my first prospective e23 supplement, but that is a tale of misery and woe I will not repeat at this time) involving sneaking into a Chinese Army base that was the site of a Grey weapon’s manufacturing plant. My wife’s character opened up with a .300 Win Mag or .338 Lapua Magnum . . . some monstrously powerful rifle . . . that had a “silencer” on it. I knew that most such devices would take the report of such a weapon and tame it by 20-40dB. But magnum rifles like that are still very loud, especially if it’s pointed at you!

So, I put my own expectations on the gun and the noise. My players had theirs – strongly informed by Hollywood. They were so upset with the resulting consequences that they agreed to stop the mission and RESTART the entire thing, with the now newly available “Anti-Noise Active Suppression System” provided by the Tech Ops that actually WERE Hollywood “silencers” instead of real-world suppressors.

And everyone was happy.


I tell this story because it struck me as pertinent:  A commenter posted that he thought Jeffro’s review of The Deadly Spring was off the mark when Peter linked to it in a post recommending my blog to others (thanks, Peter!).

That made me think of the above story, because what Jeffro is saying (I think), is that TDS is just too complex and fiddly to use at the gaming table. It breaks his own expectations for the amount of work he’s expected to do in order to provide a good, fun story to those around the table.

In fact, I agree with him completely. The Deadly Spring is not meant for at-the-table use. It was originally slated as a 2,500-word article that did the same thing for bows as my guns article did, and how hard could that be, really?

Well, 11,000 words later, I found out. And I built a spreadsheet, so no sane person would have to suffer like I did (and like Steven did in reading and editing the thing) to create such things.

What was the end result? An article that, as the review says, allows you to go through iterative gymnastics to maybe design a bow that shoots an arrow that does 1d+1 imp. Um, so? Well, that bow is probably a 150-lb bow (ST 17 or so?) firing an arrow that weighs as much as some hamburgers (about 0.2 to 0.25 lbs; 1500 grains!). OK, blah, blah, realism; blah blah effectiveness of guns vs bows.

But again: I agree with him. From a narrative purpose, if you will accept all the crap that comes with a semi-realistic bow with cinematically high armor penetration (but you still need a few seconds to draw, ready, and shoot an arrow, and the Acc isn’t that good, but the range penalties are large), then having penetration be cinematically high relative to a 9mm pistol which can fire 3 or more times per second, is easier to aim, and can fire for six rounds or more (and by that time, someone’s dead)? Sure, let the bow guys have their fun, and it’s way easier to just look up “thr+2” and know your thr damage is 1d+2 with ST 17, giving you 1d+4.

So, Jeffro’s expecations are (a) don’t let the crunch interfere with the story, (b) keep it simple and fast, and (c) let people have their proper fun; don’t penalize a player based on expectations clash.

My purpose in writing the rules was to be able to model bows better (it started during the Low-Tech playtest, where I had like a three-line set of equations that worked, sorta, but only within the case of wooden self-bows, and there were some oddities that cropped up even then), and get them scaled more properly vs. firearms (which you should be able to easily do, since you know the energy and diameter of the shaft).

That sort of thing, though, is best kept off the table.  I still may wind up taking up the challenge on the wish list (Low-Tech: Archery) at some point, since it should be fairly straight-forward to execute. That might meet Jeffro’s needs: it would have columns for cinematic damage, realistic damage, AND a number based off of thr+N for those who want to do it that way. Perhaps.

The other thing to do is look at your expectations and assumptions.

Are the players going to load up with Heroic Archer, Weapon Master (Bows), Strongbow, and Special Exercises (Arm ST +3)? With an enchanted Elvish Longbow of Smiting firing Puissant arrows also enchanted with Penetrating Weapon? If that’s the case, well, “realistic” bow damage based on the square root of kinetic energy just ain’t the point, now, is it?

If your goal is to ensure that if you put a warrior in a full-faced helm and high-quality “double-mail” or some such and want him to look like a well-protected porcupine (safe, uninjured, but looking a lot like the shields at 2:59 in this clip from 300), then you’re going to want to ensure that the damage for powerful bows is on the right scale with the armor used.

Back to the silenced firearms thing: I’d pitched the game as “realistic” Black Ops. That meant “only” 350-400 points instead of the 800-1000 required in Fourth Edition to mimic the original 3e templates (Start at this post, and go from there). But as you notice, 300-400 points is well into the Action or Monster Hunters territory; realism just ain’t really in it. Gritty, yes, sure – can be done.

My players took one look at their abilities, and said “this is Jackie Chan meets the X-Files” and well, they probably weren’t wrong. I’d know better now, and I believe that Black Ops should be a spin-off of Monster Hunters, rather than a stand-alone.

So they had characters that could pull off amazing stuff, and a background of super-science tech in the game as well. Hollywood Silencers are appropriate here, not my realistic silencers.

As a final nod: two of the best treatments of suppressors in GURPS both came from the same author: Hans-Christian Vortisch. First, in GURPS Modern Firepower, and then recreated for Fourth Edition in GURPS High-Tech (pp. 158-159), where I’m pretty sure Hans wrote the suppressor part.

Peter Dell’Orto, over at Dungeon Fantastic, just posted a link to a First Edition DnD treasure trove generator. I do vaguely remember “Treasure Type,” and would have to look for it more closely. But I tried it out randomly, and got some really neat results. 

Treasure Type D; 3 repeats, verbose gems “on.”

Treasure Type D

  1. 5000 gp, Gems (4): 100 gp Carnelian, 1000 gp Aquamarine, 200 gp Moonstone, 6 gp Tiger Eye Agate. Total Value: 1306 gp.
  2. 4000 ep, Gems (4): 10 gp Moss Agate, 1000 gp Jet, 7 gp Tiger Eye Agate, 70 gp Rock Crystal. Total Value: 1087 gp.
  3. 4000 gp

Sweeeet. I repost this because (a) I agree with him, it’s Awesome, and (b) I’m in a Pathfinder game. Maybe our GM will be inspired.

This morning, as always, I went about 13 miles to work. It took me, from when I hugged my family to when I pushed “go” on my computer, about 30 minutes. That’s not bad.

This weekend, I will (again) travel from Minneapolis to Penang, Malaysia. That’s about 9,000 miles. It will, all told, take me about 36 hours from when I leave my home to when I arrive at my hotel.

Why do I mention this?

The car would normally be assumed to travel 40-60 miles per hour. The listed cruise speed of a 777-200 is 585mph. Raw math would tell you the trips should take about 16 minutes and 15.5 hours, respectively! That would be a pretty common gaming calculation for “how fast can I get there?”

The reality is about double that. It includes loading, waiting, forgetting your keys, switching between waypoints, traffic (hopefully not an issue at 37, 000 feet), and other obstacles.

The interesting thing (for me) here is that the inflation factor for trips of over two orders of magnitude different in length both take about twice as long as their cruise speed would indicate. That’s not a bad rule of thumb.

Want to take a trip from one fantasy town to another? They’re 100 miles apart? Your wagon team can usually manage about 3mph? Well, that trip will likely take closer to 66 hours rather than the 33 you’d expect. Now, that DOES include sleep and stuff! This is an all-in time, about three days.

If you want to go faster, you’re now adventuring. It starts to look like the equivalent of a forced march, and will require some skill (and therefore some skill rolls) to execute. Might be Hiking, Riding, Animal Handling, or some professional or area knowledge skill that gets you from A to B. And that’s ONLY if you’re in control of the trip, because it might not work. My trip to Penang, at best, would be me walking out my door at 11am, departing at 1pm, and flying directly to STPG on a Boeing 777-200, Airbus A340-500 or A350-900R, or 787-9. All four of those platforms have a cruise speed of about 560mph, and more importantly, greater than 9,000 mile unrefueled range. So theoretically, they can make the trip in about 18 hours (40 minutes longer than the A340-500 trip I took direct from LA to Singapore! A long time in an aluminum tube). Then deplane and another hour to the hotel. That’s a total time of 21 hours instead of 36. But it requires you to be able to charter your own long-range jet, and nothing to interfere with getting from your home to the airport, airport to the hotel. So lots of luck, there.

Anyway, when considering travel times, I think a good rule of thumb is probably “twice as long as it would take to cover the distance as a straight-shot at cruising speed.”

The blank slate.

I have made several references on my Facebook page to a writing project that has . . . not been going well.

Over the holiday, I prepped to visit my in-laws. They live about an hour west, so pretty close, but for reasons that will become clear, it’s not a “let me zip home for a moment” kind of trip.

I downloaded my project, and the inevitable pair of spreadsheets that I work from, onto a flash drive.

I then promptly left it on my kitchen table as we left for the overnight stay. Laptop? Check. All previous progress on this work? Crap. Sitting on the table.

So once we got there, and Short Stack (the cute little girl in my profile pic) was happily playing with her cousins (all five of them), I opened my wife’s dv6 . . . and faced a blank slate (“tabula rasa” for those not a fan of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Or Latin.)

What happened? Unburdened by my previous work, I solved the mechanics problem that had been plaguing me for so very, very long.

Sometimes it’s good to start fresh. This can apply to game mechanics, a writing project, or letting go of an argument. It was a good lesson to re-learn.