[DitV] Spring River: Secret rolls for gamey bliss?

[Daniel Davis]

I ran Dogs for the first time last night. I've been obsessed with the game for a while but hadn't gotten the chance to actually play a town. I was GMing; and Tim, Walker, and Posey were the players.

I hadn't had a lot of time to prepare; the previous night I had just printed out a town I found online that looked interesting, Spring River. I didn't know how I was going to introduce the situation to the players; I just looked over the town's writeup a couple of times and started the session.

Character creation went smoothly, even if the players weren't quite sure what everything did. I told them they'd get a good picture in due time, probably before the first session was over. Unfortunately, I don't think the others dug the concept of pseudo-Mormon gunslingers as much as I did. But I did provide some elements to aid them: huge bowls of beef jerky, tortilla chips and salsa, a couple beers, Johnny Cash, and an album of Sacred Harp hymns. I think they did like the religious angle, however; our entire group is a bunch of Calvinists, and once or twice during the session someone mentioned how interesting it might be to port the game into something more in line with our own Protestant beliefs.

Although initiation went well and quickly, the town itself was rough at first. No one knew what to do, including me. As I said, I was doing it on the fly. One symptom of my lack of prep was a bit of trouble with names. I think I confused the Tanners and the Smiths about 15 times before we got to our first conflict.

Every member of our group is used to D&D, and those old habits (or expectations) were the problem, I think. We were all waiting for actions to trigger rather than pulling that trigger ourselves. You know, in a dungeon, if you just walk into a room, you know something's going to happen. So you walk into rooms a lot and with great excitement. With Dogs, though, you just have to elucidate conflicts of interest and put the conflicted parties in a situation where that conflict has to be addressed.

Once I figured that out, I stopped the whole "Hey, go around town and see what's up" game and just said, "Brother Tanner says for you to come over after church and have lunch with his family. He wants you to talk to his wife for him about something important." Even then, I had to fight saying, "What do you do?" Instead, I just plopped the characters in the guy's kitchen and had him spill the beans: his wife's believing heresy, that the gods of the Mountain People and the King of Life are one and the same, and she's been using their folk medicinal rituals to try to heal people around town.

The Dogs confronted her with it, and I had her get all defensive and mention something about just trading with the Mountain People. Now, I had already said to the players that she wore a dreamcatcher on her belt. That was to tip them off. And, when one of the players asked her if the Mountain People had given her anything unusual, that's when I "got it."

I thought about it and had Brother Tanner say, "Yeah, they sure did." He looked very uncomfortable and pointed toward the back room. At this point, I had no idea what was back there. I knew it had to be something good, though, because then I had Sister Tanner run over to the doorway and station herself there, refusing to let the Dogs past. In my head I was like, "Alright! A conflict for real!"

And boy was it. While the players were figuring out what to do, I decided that in the back room was some kind of fetish object on an altar, something weird or gruesome. Then: the severed head of a deer, antlers everywhere, really creepy looking. Then: it manifests demonic possession. So I thought it should be perpetually bleeding from its neck. Now that's something that Sister Constance wouldn't want the Dogs to find.

In the course of the conflict, I had Sister Constance call on the demon (who's been making everyone in the town sick) to help her. I made up some vaguely Mountain People sounding name for it like Chichnook and had her start to manifest signs of possession: completely black eyes, nails growing out, hair blowing—the classic stuff.

After a tense conflict (I think at one point I had Constance reach out with her preternaturally long and sharp nails and try to rip out one of the Dogs's throats, which got a lot of excitement going at the table), Constance Gave and let the Dogs go back to discover the object. They found the severed deer head, and then I had it speak to them, you know, just in their heads, identifying itself as Chichnook and commanding them not to leave.

There was a lot of excitement at the table by this point. Posey had a good idea: he'd go fetch the Steward and have him lend a hand in the exorcism. So that's what the players wanted to do. I wouldn't let them get off that easily, though. As they were heading out the door, I had Constance command her husband to shoot the Dogs. So, the conflict: can the Dogs escape the house?

The conflict lasted for a lovely duration. During it, Brother Tanner Gave, not wanting to get shot by the gunslinger character among the Dogs. Posey had the great idea to run into the back room and use an element of Ceremony on the gruesome fetish. So he took out his jar of consecrated earth and splashed it on the deer head. I treated the demon manifested in the deer head and Constance (who was possessed by it) as one character; and I think Posey himself narrated the supernatural effect, something like how all the sacred earth (which we imagined as something the texture of fine dust) stuck to the fur of the head, giving it a complete coating. It was a nice Raise, and there was much high fiving going on.

Eventually, in the other room, one of the more combat-oriented characters subdued Constance and wanted to tie her up with a rope. Here's how it went. Walker: "Do I have a rope?" Me: "Do you?" (Beat.) Walker (hesitantly): "Yes?" Tim: "Of course you have a rope!" And so it was decided.

Posey's character left to fetch the Steward. Meanwhile, Nathaniel showed up, asked about Jan'es condition, and, when it was revealed that she was worsening, intimated that he'd be "going to see" the Steward. The remaining Dogs followed him into town rather than trying to force him not to leave.

When Posey emerged with the Steward, Nathaniel was there, holding a rifle leveled at his face. The stakes: "Does the Steward die?" Everyone agreed to it, and the tension shot through the roof.

After a long while, when it looked like the Dogs would win, I pulled out the big guns. I threw down my free dice and brought in the tied-up demon possessed Constance. I couldn't plausibly make her break her bonds and go nuts, but I did decide that she knew how the Steward had been a-whorin' with Mrs Smith. She used her demonically enhanced powers of persuasion on the Steward, quoting the Book of Life at him (ala Satan in Jesus' temptation in the wilderness), and saying something to the effect that, if he didn't kill himself for his sins, he'd be thrown into the Lake of Fire or whatever.

Meanwhile, Walker's character put a slug in Nathaniel to prevent him from shooting the Steward, and, right at the end of our session, the Steward ran out of dice, being unable to see Constance's Raise, grabbed Posey's pistol, and shot himself in the chest.

The Dogs lost the stakes, of course, but everyone was immensely satisfied with it. It was a powerful bit of gaming; and I was surprised how easily the group took to it, seeing that we'd never done anything remotely Nar before.

The town's not resolved yet. There's still exorcisms and judgments to be done. But, as most of us live across the country for one another and only got to play because of the Christmas break, the endgame might be a far piece off.

Normally, our group gets kicks out of tactical play with fun injections of Color. And, although everyone enjoyed our session, I think that perhaps the system would have been more attractive to them if I had played behind a screen, keeping my rolls secret. I've read some discussion on this option but haven't ever read of someone who's done it. I suppose I'd like to hear of some experiences with the variant to see how it worked out for other groups.

[David Artman]

I think that rolling behind a screen could work, if you're playing with a group that doesn't care about the tactical aspect of using dice. Conversely, if your group likes to plan their dice use based on what you've rolled, you'll disappoint them. In the end, it's a technique that's highly depedent on the tastes of the group.

[Callan S.]

I'm not clear on the 'behind the screen' thing - if you roll as per the rules behind the screen, its no different than rolling in the open. I can only think rolling behind the screen is a round about way of saying 'the GM fudges when he wants to'?

[Daniel Davis]

I'm not clear on the 'behind the screen' thing - if you roll as per the rules behind the screen, its no different than rolling in the open. I can only think rolling behind the screen is a round about way of saying 'the GM fudges when he wants to'?

The point is not to fudge the rolls; that's not even in the question. The point is to eliminate player knowledge of what the GM has rolled. As I haven't had the chance to actually try this out and haven't heard from anyone who has (and since I haven't thought about it in serious detail), I can only speculate about the effects.

But I think that one plausible effect would be a tendency on the part of the players to Give more often; and, when they Give, to do so in more "realistic" situations from an Actor stance. Maybe I'm wrong here; I'd love to hear input.

[lumpley]

I know that there are a couple of groups who used to play with hidden dice (all around, not just the GM's), but I haven't heard from them in a while. I don't think anybody's going to be able to give you solid answers - if you want to know, you'll have to try it and see, I think. Be sure to come back and tell us how it went.

From my perspective as the designer: being able to see your opponent's dice lets you see that you're going to lose, way in advance of your actually losing. This means that a) you give early, so conflicts you can't win don't go on forever in play; or else b) you escalate early, so conflicts rush upward instead of dawdling.

-Vincent

[David Artman]

From my perspective as the designer: being able to see your opponent's dice lets you see that you're going to lose, way in advance of your actually losing. This means that a) you give early, so conflicts you can't win don't go on forever in play; or else b) you escalate early, so conflicts rush upward instead of dawdling.

Yep, that's what I'd imagine happening, too. Also, here's a good time to link to that "strategy" article/post that talks about how to use dice (which, obviously, requires player knowledge of the dice). My Forge Search Fu is totally lame--I don't think I've ever successfully found a thread for which I have searched! --but maybe someone has a link saved (Vincent?)?
David

[Daniel Davis]

Also, here's a good time to link to that "strategy" article/post that talks about how to use dice (which, obviously, requires player knowledge of the dice). My Forge Search Fu is totally lame--I don't think I've ever successfully found a thread for which I have searched! --but maybe someone has a link saved (Vincent?)?

I believe I've read that article before and found it helpful. Anyway, if I do get a chance to play again, I'll be sure to make an AP report. Thanks again for the input.

[lumpley]

Here it is: John Kim's strategy notes for Dogs in the Vineyard.

Also very much worth reading: Ben Lehman's strategic breakdown of the character creation backgrounds.

-Vincent

[Moreno R.]

I remembered having answered before about keeping the rolls hideen, and there is the thread:
Missing Suspense in the Dog's Bidding System

The relevant part from my answer I think is this: "If the player don't know the strength of his opponent, his character's choices become less moral and more statistical, more "I feel lucky" and less "I have to do this" "