Spacestein II: The Stumblefuck

"Space-Cigarette?"

"What about a Space-ZYN?"

A glance at the definitely-not-two-way mirror. A buzz in the ear piece. "Sorry, no dice."

Agent Sneed shrugged and reached across the interrogation debriefing desk, pinching the space-filter on one of the few remaining space-cigs of the offered pack and hanging it from his lips. The space-butane aroma of the space-Zippo took him back to a different time. A weirder time.

---

I carried my PC Danson Sneed over from Spacestein I, fresh off of a dominant victory over the forces of crazy alien... things. Or an apocalyptic biotech threat. Or something. I didn't follow but maybe half of what happened the first time and didn't figure to do any better this time. You see, I'm a moron.

The Agency saw fit to recruit and train Sneed in some additional abilities, spycraft and the like, after the events of the first one, so LCpl Sneed (ret) became Agent Sneed and deployed alongside his fellow galactic hero Baron Ver... Werm... Wurm... Baron Vince. The Baron was not an Agent as such, but still a hero and useful as you will see.

My initial orders were: Agency suspects there is a threat of galactic proportion on Sombrasol.  Their previous asset was killed.  Your orders: Establish a "cover" on Sombrasol.  Gather intel.  ROE: Flexible.  The agency trusts your judgement for now.

Further evidence that I'm a moron is that I didn't read those orders again the entire game. I leaned way more on my bias for action out of a sense of obligation to what I believed the game to be rather than hewing hard and fast to my pre-game orders.

The DM set several hooks, most of which I've forgotten, but the interesting ones were a bio-terrorist threat and a space-ship wreck. I figured the galactic threat was more likely related to the terrorist and zeroed in on that as my objective. Vince was game so we started off strong as a team, which in a heavy fog of war game of selfish dirtbags, you really want to secure an ally you can trust if possible.

The game was a turn-based format supplemented by live session play when the DM felt like it. It was a great example of high trust gaming, where a player might submit orders for a turn, find himself playing out a live scenario involving other PCs than his own, and then learning about all of it through a haze of bullshit GOSS posts. Despite some fickle rolls and unforgiving results, only two players crashed out that I'm aware of, which is saying something if you know the DM as we do.

Turn 1

I started my turn making friends with an airboat driver named Bickle. He had a lot to say about stock prices being wonky. He also knew about stranded Travellers being put to work on the plantations and coming down with some illness. Told me they were being treated at the Church and even took me there, where I clocked Andrei coming or going and dropped a bug in his pocket.

Vince and I figured to meet up at Ustar's, he as the obvious front-man of note and I as a discreet bodyguard and observer. I picked up that Vince had a tail in the form of the only other survivor of the Ferigno that we knew about, Garrick Stone. While an ally during that event, we hadn't heard from him at all and it looked to me like he was tailing my boy. I prepared to execute him with a well-placed shot, but then Vince got into Ustar's compound and Stone was turned away in a fit. We both thought it weird he didn't say anything but let him get bounced by the bouncers.

Vince hired some goons and was hired by Ustar in turn. I got a hit on the bug I dropped on Andrei with some unidentified voices talking about finding Fowch, a bio-terrorist responsible for the illness plaguing the populace. Hey look at that, maybe I'm not a moron!

Turn 2

Vince investigated the Sombrasol SEC (stocks not football) and made a friend while I sat on the Church. I wanted to identify the voices from the previous recording and confirm my suspicion that someone in the Church was actually causing the ailment, not curing it. I was able to infiltrate and bug a few rooms. I also planted my boy Bickle nearby as the only viable Uber driver to respond to taxi calls and bugged his ride.

My carefully gathered intel was accumulating but recall when I said I was a moron? I confirmed IDs on Brown, Nomikos, Sonak, and Andrei through HUMINT and bugs. 

Looked like Doc Brown was on the surface actually treating the sick, Andrei too who happened to have his own ride and was very devout. 

Nomikos was picked up by Bickle along with a "smokin' hot baddie" after a bar fight at the Winchester. 

Sonak was looking for work anywhere he could find it, which was apparently no where, eventually trying to track down the ranger Wandara.

I tried to get my handler Control to run plates and background checks but the DM failed to be bullied on this point. I'm an ok intel collector but I'm a shit analyst. At least Vince was also collecting information on stock fraud that we weren't smart enough to do anything with.

Sometimes, the DM just up and says "ok we're doing this thing". It could be someone else's scenario with the names filed off like Hi-Point serial numbers or if you've been very good for space-Santa, you get to play your own scenario. In this instance, it was a rapid fire play by post.

Vince had learned about the clerk Del Meoud and suspected he knew some shit, so we locked and loaded and kicked his front door in. In the process of arresting him on behalf of Ustar's Make Sombrasol Great Again initiative, Nomikos walked in. After a tense standoff we came to the conclusion that we all wanted to hear what this guy had to say, just not here. Everyone agreed to evac to Ustar's and boy was that just the best decision we ever made and didn't cause any trouble at all. Oh and some dipshit jumped out of the closet to surrender for some reason but he turned out to be irrelevant as far as I could tell. We bagged him, too, for safe measure.

Turn 3

This turn began with our exfil from the space port offices where we snatched Del Meoud. My orders were simple. Protect the package until we arrived at Ustar's, which we thought was a safe spot, then bounce to root around Doc Brown's cabin. The handoff went smoothly and I left Nomikos and Vince to interrogate the prisoners.

My bugs picked up Brown hailing his confederates and asking after a shootout at the docks. I think that was in a GOSS post but I don't trust anything posted there. By the time I get to his cabin I found him servicing an air/raft full of bullet holes. I watched silently and waited for an opportunity to snoop but none really came. I was able to plant a bug.

I got some returns on some of my bugs, snippets of conversation, some gunfire. All shit my dumbass should be able to feed to an analyst to parse.

I also learned that Ustar turned on Vince and Nomikos and tried to kill them and the prisoners. They apparently escaped, but Nomikos thinks I had a hand in it since I left. That's some pretty shit timing.

Turn 4

I contacted Andrei and set a meet at the Church to see if we could put some cards on the table. My stupidity and impatience was getting to me. I felt like the game was passing me by while I piddled around "collecting data" that I neither understood nor could directly act on.

Nomikos, Brown, and Andrei all showed at the Church but the meet was just Nomikos telling me to arrest myself and me telling him to fuck himself and no one else saying anything. Total bust but we were able to disengage without anyone getting shot. Great.

Andrei had a jammer going so whatever little bit I was picking up from the bug on him was gone and I didn't really have anything else to go on.

Vince captured Mike's PC, Forrest Gump in Space, while trying to get more out of his administrator contact. He wanted to turn him into the Baroness Jocelyn and man whatever, sure let's go. I got a mayday that there's a Monte Carlo on switches trailing him so I jumped in Bickle's ride and tried to intercept him before the Age of D'Quarius dawned on him.

We ran a quick live session because some of us were available. Others filled in for the guys who weren't and we had us a good ole fashioned car chase shootout. Vince added D'Quarius to the package to be dropped off and hopefully leveraged for... something... out of Jocelyn. Straws were being frantically grasped at.

Turn 5

We dropped the two prisoners at Jocelyn's and got some vague intel that pointed us at Emened along with a few loaner mercs (farmers). We hailed Nomikos to try and coordinate a hit on Emened but he had already been there and waved us off. Wanted to get after Ustar.

Unfortunately the timeline worked that we got Nomikos' response after we would have already made our own run at Emened, so we had to execute that op. It was a pretty Splinter Cell endeavor where we identified a back door, eliminated guards, found a secret tunnel, and located the same doctor that Nomikos had and gotten the same intel that Nomikos had gotten.

Fowch and Ustar had switched bodies using the Affinity Twin, the same tech weapon that I had thought destroyed during Spacestein I, same as Nomikos told us. Great, at least we corroborated it.

Turn 6

The ultimate turn. The final countdown. We consolidated our efforts with Nomikos' crew and made entry using Andrei's backstage pass. Apparently we failed to clear the rooms we passed through so when we found Regor, Fowch's right hand man and apparently a puppet master of sorts, we got ambushed. Good thing we're just badasses so while Vince and Nomikos chopped Regor down the rest of us blasted our way out of the ambush. Unfortunately, notUstar was killed in the crossfire, returning Fowch's psyche to Fowch's body still in the care of Emened's doctor.

To the planes!

But wait, what if we kick Emened's door in again and miss him? What if he gets away? Well, no shot of that happening with all of our developed contacts. Everyone calls in their favors and figures out Fowch was smuggled off world by escaped prisoners and mercenaries (Mike, Nekro, Hoot) and Del Meoud (picked up by a player I forget. Pogo?). Mfers, we coulda wasted the chance by raiding Emened!

We race to the port but they're already in orbit. Thankfully Andrei has a scout ship and the chase is on. We catch them trying to scoop fuel from the local gas giant. Our heroic boarding action sees them all killed, us in control of the financial data capable of diverting all the embezzled funds to our own accounts, and our own Free Trader. I call that a win.

---

My strategy started as intel gathering but because no one knew what was going on, myself included, it felt like the game was passing me by. At some point you just gotta do shit, so do shit I did. I don't know what happens next but Agent Sneed survived so he'll be a part of the next exciting installment of "Hang a Baroness for Treason" or something.

Sea Legs

ICE had delivered a high value captive to the Temple of Turas in Allegany and spent the rest of our downtime since the last session copying spells, brewing potions, and the like. We had a few treasure maps and the quest for the holy hand grenade of evil destruction, but we decided to solve a problem for Slaid's downtime fishing crew instead.

The operation to harvest rockfish for poison and magic item components hit a snag when the rockfish hole the fishing vessel frequented came up empty, all the rockfish being eaten by something. Rotten pieces of fish floated around and the fishing captain was too scared to frequent the waters alone.

Slaid headed up the expedition to discover just what the problem was and bonk it on the noggin so he could get back to getting free gold. We chummed the water and trolled about looking for some evidence of what was causing so much trouble. Eventually we found it, a giant sea serpent rollin' out of the deep like Nessie.

I'm not really sure what we expected. Slaid kept trying to get us to jump in the water and fight like Aquaman or something but that's a solid nope from the elf in plate mail. Instead we gunned it down with harpoons and crossbow fire and kilt it until dead.

The vessel designed specifically for just such a task, we harvested everything we could from the dead serpent, including the belly full of treasure, and off we went with mission accomplished. There was a small rocky island that held a ton of bird-monstrosity things, stymphs, we passed on the way back. We lured them out with a succulent serpent meal, slumbered them with magic, and scooped up whatever shiny things they had in their nests.

Surprisingly, we had the most trouble out of a few sharks that naturally followed us due to the towed serpent corpse we were dragging to attract trouble. Go figure. They did a little damage to the fishing ship but otherwise were defeated and added to our weird haul. If only every chartered fishing trip was so successful...

We returned to Allegany with a healthy amount of treasure, much harvested meat and components, and a happy bard. I'd say next up Sextant quest for the weapon of evil killing but man, we never know what we're gonna do.

Redemption or Death (AFN 3)

The gods are fickle. And demanding. Maybe cruel? I'm not sure because I'd never get on their bad side, but boy do they not like Julius.

Our Quested warrior griped his way through a bit of downtime but it was clear that the magic would not let him properly prepare for his journey. After only a little time in town Julius was already growing fatigued and antsy to get moving.

Nicanor tagged in a contemporary of his Zoticus (PC swap due to maiming). They worked to move some of the goods we had recovered prior but it looked to be more of an ordeal than we expected.

A pickpocket tried her hand at Etienne's purse, and then mine, but I caught her and turned her over to the guards. The new mage Zoticus, another in a long line of heathen sorcerers, assumed that my pragmatism would outweigh my honor and negotiated for her release. He was dismayed at my refusal to pull any strings for the thief and she was sentenced to pay an unpayable fine.

When Julius let out for the wilderness to stop the magical punishment he was enduring, we were at a bit of a fork in the road. Zoticus stayed in town to sell off goods and to free the thief from her destiny in the slave mines while the rest of us joined with Julius to escort him on his quest.

We bumbled about in the woods for a while before we found a spire overlooking the terrain. From on high we could see the compound that we suspected was our target. Overcoming disease and magical punishment, we carried on towards the goal.

Meanwhile, Zoticus successfully paid for the release of the thief Eleanor and hired her as a hench. He picked up some other weirdos (PC rerolls and another hench) and hit the road. Their group caught up with ours just outside of the Ruined Monastery.

Flavius discovered some children going down to the nearby river for water and, after watching them a bit and sharing much speculation over how horribly evil and fae they had to be, we approached them. They were just kids. Weird, traumatized kids likely, but they didn't grow fangs or ensorcell us or anything.

It took a little convincing but they agreed to lead us to "The Man Upstairs" about whom we speculated all manner of evil. He lived in a tower on the compound that was separate from the main building, in the belfry. We ascended past some admittedly creepy things like stuffed animals with sewn-in human teeth to meet with him near the large bell. He was cowled and shadowed and stayed that way during the conversation, encouraging us to leave him alone or else. No ally to be found there, but at least no enemy either, so we left.

The main building in the compound had a huge room, likely the original sanctuary, overgrown in strange vines and fungus that we were very careful to avoid. Close inspection revealed a secret compartment on the faded and lost altar to Elion that held actual, real, tangible treasure. We rejoiced and liberated the items to be returned to civilization.

That's when the spectral guardian took umbrage and attacked. Of course none of us really had any silver or magic weaponry, but we did have an oil of sharpness. After a brutal scrap involving military oil, hot potato with the magicked sword, and my getting knocked on my ass, we overcame the spirit and sent him to his rest.

Returning to camp was easy, it wasn't far outside the compound, and we rested up. A scouting party went ahead to investigate the warded stairway and well that we had found. They succumbed to some wicked fumes and were afflicted with visions but we couldn't really do more than guess at what they meant, if anything. They escaped with their lives.

Zoticus blasted away the wards on the stairs with his sorcery and we descended. It didn't take long to meet more guardians of this place, undead creatures of heinous strength and again displaying immunity to our weaponry. Already engaged and not likely to be able to outrun them in a retreat, we desperately threw oil and grappled, trying anything for an upper hand.

Zoticus came through again by wrapping up one of them in a choke hold. We dogpiled it and hogtied it and then repeated the effort with the remaining one. Victory was ours, but we lost our thief Chassick to the monsters. We prepared his body for retrieval on our way out and left the hogtied undead there without much in the way of options for disposal.

We discovered a fountain with little stone imps frolicking, tearing apart a giant frog that we thought we'd heard on entry. Lacking confidence in our mundane weaponry, we avoided them and retraced our steps to find the bound undead and Chassick's body missing.

A crossroads of canals led us to doors painted in silvery riddles. We left that for later and kept looking down unobstructed paths, finding the water wheel mentioned by the Sisters as a landmark in our search. Our rejoicing was cut short as a hydra emerged from the water by the wheel, one by two by three by idk I lost count of how many heads. It gobbled up Julius before we had a chance to do much of anything.

Tharn our explorer covered our retreat with his bow as it didn't seem likely we'd be able to wrestle this beast like we had the prior ones. Etienne and I held the line to give everyone a chance to retreat, but Et got snatched and eaten as well. His heroism will never be forgotten as his sacrifice bought us time to escape.

A clearly laid trap complete with adventurer bait awaited us just outside of our light and just as we were clear of the hydra. A bejeweled scepter matching the description of what we came to seek rested on a pedestal conveniently far enough away to risk being eaten to retrieve.

Tharn knocked it loose with an arrow and Flavius sent one of his dogs to fetch it. We fled before we were killed and thought maybe, just maybe, we'd be able to celebrate something about this place. Nope. The scepter faded into so much dust and we kicked rocks back to camp.

Julius, Chassick, and Et were dead. The holy quest given by the merciful Abbess was over and we dragged the stench of failure with us back towards town. An elf watched us cross the river but caused no trouble, speaking in his weird way and declining to join us.

Flavius and the pups discovered a bit of a crevice leading to a set of doors under the ruined bridge near where we crossed the river. Our retreat to civilization was delayed by the prospect of treasure. We ignored some centipedes in order to make entry, breaking down doors and revealing a bit of a guardhouse or barracks or garrison complete with a kitchen and office. A secret compartment revealed some treasure and a short fight with skeletons ended with a wounded dog and some very fine masterwork swords.

If we were to return to the monastery, then it looked like we at least had a staging ground to launch from. We departed, most of our party suffering from mummy rot due to grappling with undead, and hoped we'd make it to town before everyone but Mikel and Maria lost their skin in sloppy sticky sheets.

After a few close calls with wilderness beasties, we limped into Belvorn. Maria and I were unaffected by the malaise that was killing the rest of the party. I offered to ride to Trenova ahead of the party and hopefully secure some concession against the expected taxes and tariffs and other inconveniences of adventuring. Maria joined me with the group under the care of a hired chirugeon.

The road to Trenova was uneventful and we passed through the gates after the typical security precautions from the guards. I led the young priestess to the Order's chapterhouse to make this report.

Sir Mikel, Knight-Initiate of the First Seal
28th of Rods, 28th Year of King Decius' Reign - Town of Trenova
 

On Thieves

The fiction that influences games like AD&D is rife with examples of the daring warrior rescuing the damsel, moral men confronted with difficult choices, and fighting men claiming power by righteous action over malicious rulers. It also showcases unscrupulous rogues and thieves, con artists and criminals, out for nothing but their own gain no matter the cost.

The default assumption by Gary Gygax in AD&D is that some level of heroism will exist among a party of adventurers, but it is not uncommon to have a "bad apple" in the mix, even if the entire party isn't comprised of murder hobos lacking any moral compass at all. If you consider your favorite stories, particularly ones with larger casts of characters, you'll find that they're often written the same way; a heroic group with a scrappy or roguish member or two.

Readers who know me know that I prefer heroism in my gaming. Ironically, some of the most success that I've had in recent gaming has been as scoundrels and petty thieves. It's because playing a selfish character is easy. As it turns out, doing whatever you want without any regard for the consequences is what shitty people do in real life. Because it's easy. Having the discipline to answer to a higher authority is what separates you from the lowest of the low.

AD&D has a grading system that incentivizes one to play to the assumed role of their character as imagined by early 70's fantasy fiction. Playing your fighter like Conan or thief like Cugel are can't-miss propositions and will earn you the ability to train quickly and relatively inexpensively. Failure to play to the understood role of your class will compromise your ability to train and cost much more. The warrior leads from the front. The mage investigates the arcane and offers useful, obscure knowledge. The cleric must turn undead and speak to matters of morals or faith. The clever thief plans heists, takes risks, and convinces the party that he's valuable. These are the roles in roleplaying that matter more than your bad British accent.

This system trains players to represent their characters' roles within the game's milieu and within the party itself. It is invaluable and more RPGs should include something like it, but I digress. I mention class grading to shine a light on how I, the heroic fighting man of fantasy worlds, would end up lying, cheating, and stealing, for mechanical victory. 

Generating PCs randomly causes a player to branch out from their "comfort picks", allowing the dice to determine their attributes, race, class, alignment, etc. I've ended up with several thieves this way. While I prefer to play warrior types, I will never take a bad grade during play (if I can help it, it's not my fault the mage's neck was too thin to endure my shaking). The thieves that I've ended up playing have gone on to (mostly) prowl, stalk, and terrorize the games that they've been a part of through a series of petty thefts, heists, and cons. 

Unfortunately, the thief role is potentially damaging to the team cohesion that I prefer during sessions. Your average thief player only risks checking for traps when pressed and scouts when there might be a treasure hoard to cherry pick. He's all but useless in combat, using the distraction as an angle to, you guessed it, sneak by and cherry pick treasure. He risks nothing for a more than equal share of treasure and experience and adds nothing that can't be achieved in most cases by the clever use of the equipment list. It's perfectly justifiable to play a scumbag of this caliber. It's also lazy, easy, and a drag on unit effectiveness.

Much of the strength of the thief class comes from the mini-game of social engineering between players, not characters, that allows him to keep getting away with it. The clever thief player plays it straight until it matters for something truly interesting, not har har I stole a gem. He volunteers for the dangerous task and, by taking that risk, he earns the trust of the players. If he betrays that trust later, well, frog, you rode the scorpion across the river. You'll also note that thieves have the most forgiving level advancement chart. It's almost like they're expected to die taking big risks. 

There's been a lot of argument about whether the thief class should even exist but that's not up for debate because it's stupid. Thieves are an indelible part of the adventure fiction that influences D&D and thus every other RPG, so stop it. If your play is flattened by thief skills, get better at the game. If you play thieves and suck during combat, get better at the game. If your best play is skimming from the hoard, get better at the game. 

"Old Man" My Ass

Our dominant victory last session led us into another ambush scenario for this session, where we knew the Regional Manager or whatever was going to be arriving to reset their regular delivery teleportation circle system. It was all a little above our heads, but we knew the basics like who, when, and where.

Antonio the captive warrior flipped on his bosses after we learned he was pressed into service by torture. Man this Assemblage organization sure was nasty business. Good thing ICE is on the case. We set him up to run business as usual when the "old man" arrived with a bodyguard and cadre of little dork mages. The main guy had white hair and beard so the nickname was apt.

Antonio lured them in without a problem and Guygiss sprung the trap, stabbing the white haired douche for a bajillion damage plus poison. Before the rest of us could act, the "old man" hauled ass flat out of there towards the dock. Turns out he weren't all that old and also wasn't dead from a shot that would have killed any one of us.

We swarmed from our various positions to quickly eliminate his entourage. The Bladedancer twins inexplicably in Slaid's employ hawked the mage down along with Guygiss' new wolves and swamp hag girlfriend he showed up with in downtime.

For the enemy's part, their ship fought back, firing volleys from the marines on board and even launching from their mounted trebuchets trying to cover the mage's escape, but he got mauled like one of those meme K9 unit videos.

Just when we thought we had everything under control, the trebuchet fire landed. It didn't make direct contact with anyone so whatever, but then DM went into describing the literal barrels of monkeys used as ammunition, spectral rock baboons exploding to wreak havoc on their surroundings. Ok now that could be a problem.

Fortunately we pinned them down pretty quick and Slaid's Crusader hench Cranston Dispelled them before they got too out of hand. We killed the stragglers and with the help of covering fire from Slaid and Guygiss and Elmo the Water Elemental, the Bladedancers cleared the deck of the enemy ship.

We seized all the assets and even prevented the mage from dying, giving us another high value captive to interrogate. We're on our way back to Allegany for justice and maybe a reward question mark??? From there we're on to Sextant hunting probably while the inquisition gets busy on the "old man" for more actionable intel to use against the Assemblage.

The C ICE A

We sailed in downtime towards the island settlement of Dundalk, a pirate cove that our evidence pointed to as a strong point for the Assemblage. On arrival, the usually sneaky shadow organization just had a plain warehouse flying their flag at the end of the dock. They clearly felt secure here.

Our plan was to deliver the shipment of weird bug parts and goo as normal and observe their operation. This went off without a hitch, revealing that the warehouse was just a single big room with a marked off area in the center where all the stuff was stored. A large warrior, robed like the other Assemblage guys but clearly not the usual nerd, ran the operation with a couple of dorks in attendance.

Confident we'd seen what we could see by day there, we went off into town to gather intel. We discovered the island, as we suspected, was a confederation of independent pirate captains, all of whom were a little sour about the Assemblage's arrogance and assumed control of the settlement. One of these, Redbeard, was meeting with a flunky from the organization at the tavern we were in.

Slaid got the party goin' with some music while Sloane and Vylas drank and caroused. Gilfandel stayed inconspicuous to observe the other patrons for anything unusual. Some drunks bumped into Sloane one too many times so she started murdering them with her sword. Well, that escalated quickly. In an attempt to provoke a chaotic barfight, Vylas leapt from the bar into a group of men and punched them all to the ground.

While we didn't get the desired wild west style brawl, we did cause quite a distraction, enough for Gilfandel to introduce a little bit of Guygiss' Mouthwash into the Assemblage dork's drink. Sloane made friends with some Jutlanders that were impressed with her combat prowess against drunken morons while Vylas bought drinks for the guys he clubbed to show no hard feelings. The tavern for the most part went back to the party while bodies were dragged into the gutter or common grave or whatever this place did with people killed in bar fights. Pirate town, amirite?

Gilfandel noticed the Assemblage man drink his poison and start bleeding from the eyes and ears and nostrils and likely other places. Redbeard stood back, shocked, then scooped him and took him to the Assemblage warehouse. To the witnesses, it looked like Redbeard might have poisoned the guy. Slaid insisted we spread that rumor to upset the status quo and force confrontation between the factions here. We heartily agreed and set off to do just that, using our mercs and some of the fun girls to quickly disseminate that Redbeard was moving against the Assemblage, look out!

We didn't really give that plan time to develop because once we returned to our dock we noticed a kerfuffle around the warehouse. We investigated and learned the warehouse doors were warded and Redbeard was inside giving an ultimatum to the Assemblage about pay, playing games, and generally being tools. When he tried to leave they almost let him trigger the wards by giving a false password, but he wasn't some idiot and forced the dork next to him to give the right one or else.

When the door was opened, there was a call from inside for Redbeard to wait. This looked dicey so Slaid kicked it off, initiating our false flag attack on Redbeard's behalf. We stormed the building shouting to save Redbeard and death to the Assemblage and Attica, I forget what all else, killing the two dorks pretty easily but the big guy went down harder.

Gilfandel scuffed the apparent Teleportation Circle drawn in sand in the center of the room to prevent any reinforcements or escape and in short order the big guy was captured and Redbeard's reinforcements arrived to see us cheering his name and giving him all the credit. We successfully executed a regime change on the island, have a prisoner to interrogate, and a plan to ambush the Assemblage reinforcements expected in about a week. All in all, a solid victory for the uh... good guys?

Disciplined Gaming

Discipline breeds freedom. The philosophers among you can yap about where that phrase comes from and what it means, but in the context of gaming, it's pretty simple. If you're disciplined in how you approach the game, you'll afford yourself more freedom to act. That's applicable to DMs as well as players in every phase and style of the game. Let's examine what discipline looks like at the various levels of play.

The Disciplined Player

The disciplined player knows the rules. Not all the rules, you understand, but the rules that are relevant to his character. He knows what types of things he can do during a session because he has read the relevant rules. He knows how his spells work and how his attack rolls work. He knows the fighting capabilities of his forces and when called upon by the DM can deliver actions efficiently.

The disciplined player keeps sufficient records. He can answer questions regarding the logistics of his forces without bogging the session down by "uh um hang on, what page?" It is the bare minimum to know the logistical capabilities of your forces and that includes how long they can remain in the field, how much treasure they can carry, and their rate of travel over the terrain that they expect to encounter.

The disciplined player exercises a little forethought. His actions and orders are cohesive to his faction's goals, which he has considered within the broader context of the campaign. He collaborates with other players within the campaign, even as an antagonist, based on his faction's objectives. He considers the state of the campaign, the setting, the milieu, when issuing orders and avoids friction by communicating effectively with the DM. While he has a plan, he remains flexible to adjustments required by the nature of the campaign. He is responsible enough to consider the bigger picture while still pursuing his own faction's goals.

The disciplined player is freed from burdening his friends with his own failure and can make an impact on the game efficiently and memorably.

The Disciplined DM

The disciplined DM knows the rules. Not every rule on command, you understand, but the rules most likely to be relevant to his type of session. He has at least a passing familiarity with the rules of the chosen system and has enough book control to find edge cases and uncommonly encountered rules efficiently. For example, he knows that if his players have flying resources, he'll need to at least generally grok the flying movement rate and combat rules. #PegasusCorpsofMachodor #ThankYouMandalf

The disciplined DM maintains consistency. He is available and responsive to his campaign's participants based on a previously established schedule. He is consistent with rulings regarding his campaign's setting. He maintains a reliable schedule for sessions. He communicates his expectations for the campaign and remains consistent with them. He tracks the developing milieu, keeping the touchstones of the campaign constant and available.

The disciplined DM is efficient. Whether by prep or practice, book control or winging it well-established improvisational skills, the DM has a responsibility to respect the nature of Real D&D™ in that time is a resource. Players must come prepared to the table and so too must the DM. He avoids unnecessarily lengthy exposition or excessive chatter, brushes up on the monsters likely to be encountered by the players, and sets the example for his table to have a solid session for the allotted length of time.

The disciplined DM is free to arbitrate the game's action and act as custodian of the game's milieu without compromising the integrity of the campaign with knee jerk rulings and memed-in buffoonery because he wasn't ready.

So what do you do?

Take the game seriously and respect your friends' time. 

If you play a single PC of low to mid level you likely don't even have the resources to require any great amount of preparation. This is the perfect time to practice your organizational skills so you can scale them as you acquire henchmen, armies, and domains. 

Establish and use a method of organization. Paper, spreadsheets, fillable PDFs you bought from a peddler, it doesn't matter. 

Thumb through the rules and spells that matter for your PC. 

If the campaign doesn't already have deadlines for downtime or collaboration, then establish them yourself. Lead by example.

Do not pester your DM with unnecessary questions. You are one of many players. Use downtime responsibly.

If you're a DM, set a schedule. Procrastination is as detrimental as perfection to the "good" of the campaign. Set a deadline for downtime orders, a deadline for resolution, and a consistent time for sessions to be played.

This can all sound overwhelming, but it really isn't because you aren't scrambling to do any of this stuff right before session. You aren't doing it all at once. You're eating the elephant, one bite at a time. None of it takes so long as to be more than a lunch break activity unless you let it pile up. Then it's a mess.

Why does this matter?

When a group sits down to play a session of D&D, there is an expectation that something will happen. If it's an 8 hour dinner party Stein event for a birthday party or it's the resolution of a wargame scenario on the club's docket, everyone involved expects to make something happen. It's incumbent on the players of the game to play the game efficiently.

Listen, man. It's a game. It's supposed to be fun. Not every session is a SEAL Team Six tactical exercise. But if you put in a little effort to be disciplined about how you approach the game, you'll have the freedom to play D&D, and enable your friends to play D&D, instead of whack-a-mole come session.

Something to consider the next time you feel like wingin' it.