X-Games and the Dying Earth

[Blake Hutchins]

Okay,

I'm in crunch mode here at work, so can't put as much time as I'd like into this, but we just played a pick-up game of Dying Earth this weekend, after a less-than-satisfying foray into Story Engine (for reasons of logistics, not game system), and I have to share my impressions.

It was a frickin' blast.

In short, the two players rolled all their characteristics randomly, and chose to be two brothers traveling together: Festivus Arvanastor and Quagwick Arvanastor, called the Orange, though he forswore wearing anything not of an emerald hue. On their own, they decided Festivus was the sole surviving player of an unusual and exotic childhood sport, and Quagwick had a great passion for cheese.  They decided they had recently fled a wrathful crowd in the city of Kaiin, where their fake erb-pelt scam had fallen apart.  Because this was a pickup game, I simply used the adventure in the back of the Dying Earth rule book - "The Cooks of Cuirnif."

I'd explained the possession rules to the players, particularly the part where Cugel-level characters have no wealth, but must pay for anything they want to "keep."  Quagwick's player spent enough points to have dibs on all his personal attire and weaponry.  Festivus spent only the two free points to put dibs on his gaudy overcoat and trusty Bogadure sport mallet.  Accordingly, I narrated the first scene as follows:

"You smuggled yourselves out of Kaiin in a caravan bound for Utter Vesk, concealing yourselves in the furs and aromatic bundles of throon-silk, and emerging only at night to acquire nourishment by dint of craft and stealth.  However, as the enfeebled rays of the ancient sun brought yet another day to the world, Festivus lingers to finish a bottle of tart wine.  He is tardy returning to his sanctuary and perforce suffers capture by irate caravan sentries.  Quagwick, being a cunning fellow, escapes apprehension by dint of speedy retreat to the nearby woods, where his fortunate fashion choice boggles the eyes of his pursuers.  Festivus, however, receives a sound beating and is stripped of all valuables and clothing save for his ridiculous coat and odd antique mallet.  After the caravan has moved on, you find yourselves at odds in a strange countryside."

So the game starts with one of the characters basically naked.  Quagwick's player commented afterward that he knew it was going to be a great game when we started out with one player sans pants.

I won't go far into a blow by blow, then... then... description, but I'll relate the two best moments of the game came when: (1) Festivus used his Illustrious Success with a Living Rough roll to declare the bark of a nearby Dinason tree peeled off to make a serviceable (if crude) skirt and sandals; and (2) during a later pursuit by the Duke's Guard following misadventure in a tavern occasioned by the inadvertent failure of the selfsame skirt to protect his brother's modesty, Quagwick broke into a house and ran pell-mell through the various rooms.  He was succeeding in losing the guards when he entered the kitchen and (because the city was preparing for a great cooking contest) encountered sufficient foodstuffs to trigger a Resist Gourmandism roll.  He failed with a Dismal Failure and could not reroll.  We described the table of gourmet cheeses laid out in pristine, mouth-watering detail, crowned by the rare musical Whelk-Cheese atop a crystal dish.  Quagwick grabbed one of his Taglines and declared: "Indulgence occasionally carries exceptional risk, yet here I offer myself as a bold sacrifice."  Thereupon he flung himself at the Whelk-cheese and was apprehended and wrestled to the floor as he crammed the last crumbs of this delicacy into his mouth.  Priceless.  We laughed our asses off.  There were many other moments like these, though not as hysterical.

I found the Dying Earth system easy to step into, and the Resist (X) attributes simply hurl the players into misadventure-laden Bangs.  The formal vocabulary caught on relatively quickly, and we were all producing adequate Vancian dialogue by the end of the first scene.  Once the players realized they were going to get screwed in equal measure as they would succeed, they relaxed and went with the flow.  Mechanics moved things along quickly and resolved (or complicated) scenes without mishap.

The taglines worked very, very well.  I'd scribbled them down myself with little thought how they might apply to the scenario's particulars, having forgotten the book supplies samples specifically for the adventure.

The only difficulties emerged from the random rolls, Festivus had the Forthright style of Persuasion, which seems a challenging demeanor to maintain in the byzantine, con-laden world of the Dying Earth.  Quagwick had the Persuade style of Intimidating and the Rebuff style of Pure Hearted, which strikes me as an awkward combination to roleplay.  He kept slipping into a glib and devious style, and had to remind himself to be Intimidating.  However, these are minor points, and the players thoroughly enjoyed character creation.  We'll play the Dying Earth again soon.

Best,

Blake

[Blake Hutchins]

Another session last night took us through the first and second days of the contests in the book's sample adventure.  This time, we were all pretty tired going in, so although a good time was had by all, we simply weren't as sharp.

The formal and extravagant speech characteristic of The Dying Earth becomes bloody difficult to produce when you're as beat as we were, and if you jettison that conceit as a practical goal, you're missing out on a HUGE component of the game's look and feel.  If you're zonked, though, the game grinds to a crawl amid a series of "I reject such... uh... shit, uhh -- rodomontade... and... er, vainglorious self-negation... um..." dialogues.

The players wanted to roleplay more and expected bonuses for doing so.  The side note to this was a tendency to haggle without actually moving the story along.  At a couple of points last night, I finally called for a roll during a long-winded persuasion attempt that appeared to me to be devouring its own tail, only to have the player look crestfallen and say, "I wanted to roleplay it out."  I suspect that Dying Earth games risk players (and GMs) dragging social encounters into a tediously long combination of one-upmanship and delight in producing such arcane prose.  At any rate, I felt like we stalled several times from just rattling on to hear the sound of our own voices.  On the other hand, I felt bad at interrupting what the player thought of as a fine (actor stance) RP experience.  We discussed it afterward, and everything's cool.  I think it's a question of finding the right rhythm for the group's pacing.

Without going too much into spoiler territory (I hope)... the players encountered an NPC who was to be cooked as a dish on the last day of the contest.  The NPC begged in his best Merchant of Venice style, and something magical happened.  As the PLAYERS realized the edge this poor fellow afforded them in terms of winning the contest and its rich prize, a look passed between them, and I swear I could see the awareness dawning in their eyes.  Then they grinned and proceeded to plot to steal this fellow to use in their own recipe.

Matt (playing Quagwick) told me after we'd wrapped for the night that it was an epiphany for him: "I suddenly realized there was no alignment or other external good/evil expectations, and that basically, I could do whatever I wanted, including grossly selfish acts."  The bulk of Matt's gaming experience has been AD&D, and he's always stressed story creation as a priority, but last night he said it was like a light went on.  It was a moment of liberation.  I wonder how it'll be gaming with him in future.

The other player, Cody, comes from a much more simulationist and tactical gaming background, influences that definitely made it difficult for him to adapt to The Pool.  No such problem here.  He's taken to The Dying Earth like an icthyomorph to water.  I'm curious to see what he does with some of the other games we've got on the list.

Best,

Blake

[GB Steve]

I suspect that Dying Earth games risk players (and GMs) dragging social encounters into a tediously long combination of one-upmanship and delight in producing such arcane prose.  At any rate, I felt like we stalled several times from just rattling on to hear the sound of our own voices.  On the other hand, I felt bad at interrupting what the player thought of as a fine (actor stance) RP experience.  We discussed it afterward, and everything's cool.  I think it's a question of finding the right rhythm for the group's pacing.

That is a big danger when running Dying Earth. As a GM you need to make sure that the cut and thrust of discussion is punctuated with dice rolls. Otherwise the players expect their arguments to carry the day, and as we well know, players can argue until the pelgranes come home to roost.

I found this out to my cost at a convention.

One thing I do enjoy with this system is players narrating their own failures when they refuse to spend any more, or have run out of, points. Dealing with their own shortcomings, rather than their successes is a much better tool for involving players in a game.

Cheers,
GB Steve

[Jared A. Sorensen]

One thing I do enjoy with this system is players narrating their own failures when they refuse to spend any more, or have run out of, points. Dealing with their own shortcomings, rather than their successes is a much better tool for involving players in a game.

The golden rule for The Dying Earth should be, "Don't argue to win, argue to entertain."

[Ron Edwards]

Hi Blake,

I'm interested in any contrasts or similarities you can spot between my experience of play (The Dying Earth - real pleasure and real pain) and yours.

Best,
Ron

[Blake Hutchins]

Steve and Jared, thanks for the tips.  Much appreciated.  I'll use 'em in the next session.

Ron, my experience with the rules has been somewhat superficial.  I neither bothered to implement the secondary details for the various styles nor paid much attention to the niceties of Trumping.  That said, the secondary tweaks and codicils of the styles struck me as mere guidelines for improvising (see Rule of Efficacious Blandishment).  If a player argued his particular style should permit him to swap pools or try something that seemed to fit the style, I went with it if said player argued convincingly and entertainingly.  In other words, we sailed past the subtleties of the rules in blissful ignorance.

Combat thus far has been limited to a brief clash of inconsequential magnitude occurring as the players retreated from a tavern.  We didn't use the Health attribute, and I'm inclined to agree it accomplishes the same kind of delays as any other Soak roll.  Health might be relevant for Endurance or Consciousness recovery, though.

Jury's out on the Magic rules.  Players attempted one cantrap, and that failed hilariously as the player in question ignited his boot instead of the target candle.  The other fellow made recent use of the Charm of Brachial Fortitude, but I haven't really formed an impression of how well or poorly his selection apes the books.  Frankly, neither of my players is familiar with Vance at all (horror!), so the goal of matching Vance's literary flavor falls into a well shortly after we pass the skullduggery and florid prose.  As a lover of improvisation, I have to admit the ideas in the other thread about treating spells as taglines hold a lot of appeal.  At the same time, there's the issue of infinitely expanding spell lists (particularly at the supposedly limited Cugel level).  As I feel some concessions may be unavoidable when porting a literary milieu to a roleplaying game, I don't have a strong opinion on this one.

Like you, I'm perfectly happy with the basic rules of style, trump, and refresh and don't think much else is necessary -- God knows we've had a (see above) frickin' blast capering like halfwits under the influence of just those basics and nothing else (well, OK, add some cheap wine and the indecently late hour).  All the fripperies merely provide fodder for the Rule of Efficacious Blandishment, neh?

We've found The Dying Earth intensely liberating.  It isn't causing my players to abandon old styles of play or old tastes, but from my conversations with 'em, it's stimulated a new appreciation for the possibilities of proactively authoring stories.  Dying Earth games seem by their very nature to push characters into bangs and conflicts where the players feel they're the crux of the emergent story, no matter how tawdry the circumstances.

Best,

Blake