Failure Padding is based upon the concept of “degree of failure” – not a new concept to many of you, but folks whose only RPG exposures come in the forms of D&D, Pathfinder, and other similar games might not have this term in their current notebooks o’ gaming lexicon. “Degree of Failure” is a way of measuring the distance between your failed dice roll and the difficulty target number you actually wanted to roll. This is usually handled simply by subtracting the number you rolled (dice result, successes, hits, what-have-you) from the number you needed in order to succeed. Thus if you needed eight successes to get the result you wanted, but you only got five when your dice hit the table, then your Degree of Failure would be three (8 – 5 = 3). Or if you needed a roll of sixteen but only scored a nine after all modifiers, then your Degree of Failure would be seven (16 – 9 = 7).

Using this degree of failure, you can very easily eyeball “how bad” your failure actually was. Some RPG systems already have rules in place for determining grades of failure, but that’s okay, because Failure Padding isn’t as concerned about grading that failure as it is about transforming that failure into hard-earned success. In other words, Failure Padding is about re-imagining your failed dice rolls as very price-heavy victories, “padded up” with collateral damage.

Let’s say you roll eight successes, but you needed eleven in order to shoot the terrorist who is currently using your girlfriend as a hostage human shield. That’s three degrees of failure, which would likely have resulted in the terrorist getting away, with your girlfriend in tow. Instead, the GM lets you “spend” those three degrees of failure to buy other consequences related to the situation, each raising your original roll up to the required level to succeed. So in this case, you buy off those three needed successes, and you and the GM work out that you shot him but the bullet went through your girlfriend’s shoulder, he got a shot off at you which went straight through your thigh, and as your girlfriend is running away another terrorist grabs you and throws a bag over your head. Your initial goal was accomplished, but now the situation remains interesting and the story evolves.

Using this mechanic, the GM offers to “sell” you extra successes in exchange for you agreeing to additional consequences of your success. Each degree of failure is one such consequence acquired. In games with greater number scales, the degree of failure should probably be based on a range of numbers. Say, every two points missed in a D20 test is one degree of failure, or every ten points missed is one degree of failure on a D100 test.

Here are some various ideas of things that can go wrong for you – consequences you can take in order to pad up the failure:

• You take additional damage in the strained effort to succeed.
• Some piece of important equipment takes damage, or is rendered temporarily useless or inaccessible – armor degrades, greaves seize up, electronics malfunction, zippers get jammed, etc.
• Your situation is made narratively worse somehow – enemy reinforcements arrive, the bridge collapses, your vehicle’s airbag unexpectedly deploys, etc
• Some threat level is increased, if your game system keeps track of that kind of thing.

Hope it works out for you!

…and yes, I have a Gamestorm 2012 post coming very soon.

In countless numbers, the husks hang in the silent darkness of the space left behind after all the stars died. They slowly crumble into the void, keeping one another company as all that is left of the universe decays around them. A seemingly endless mass of these once-great arks and flagships house a seemingly endless number of isolated tribes, descendants of the crews and occupants that once piloted them, generations ago.

Yours is one such tribe. Your people have grown up knowing nothing but the ship and its stories. Maybe old Creakbones knows the stories that came before, or even that there was a before. Maybe you’re in contact with the tribe on that husk that you can just barely see from your remaining portholes, illuminated by the farthest reaches of your home’s fading lights. Maybe you’re one of the lucky tribes that has kept its hoppers in some semblance of function, and you can even get to that other husk. Maybe, just maybe, your own husk can still move, too.

But water is running low, and the graskevyns are pounding at the airlock. The ancestral leader has just died without an heir. Puddles of something oily and orange are bubbling from Below, and touching it makes your pee burn. The air got thinner and slimy in the old houses so you had to seal them up forever. Another husk is on a slow but certain collision course with yours, and you have no way to escape. And from the Place Beyond the Dark, It is calling your name and it’s getting louder and your skin is starting to flake on your thighs and you feel like you’re going to throw up but you haven’t eaten in days and ohmigodit’scomingrun…

Sufficiently Advanced is an Apocalypse World hack which takes place after the end of the universe. Empires have risen, warred, and destroyed each other, leaving behind nothing but a seemingly-infinite graveyard of spaceships, all floating near each other in the void. Generations of people have grown and died in these ships, the last remnants of the people who once occupied them.

Very heavily inspired by the movies Pandorum, Event Horizon, Screamers, and Serenity, this game uses most of the Apocalypse World rules as they are written. A few of the playbooks will be tweaked, and I think the Chopper won’t work at all. New ones would fit in well, one based on scavenging, one based on space-walking (and void madness), maybe more. Maybe some new Moves involving using and/or deciphering old tech.

I think I’m gonna take a break from the usual course of things and work on this one some more tonight.

As far as my table-topping goes, I’m in the middle of at least two games, with two more on the horizon. First is my Old School Palladium Fantasy sandbox game, which has had four gatherings so far and seems to be maintaining everyone’s excitement pretty nicely. This game is really doing a good job of reinvigorating me, both as an arbiter of events and as a creator of spontaneous content. I haven’t run this seat-of-the-pants in a long, long time, and it is quite simply titillating my gamer imagination. I go into each session with a mental picture of all the events happening in the world within a 20-mile radius of where the characters are, and as they move around, those events progress of their own accord. So far, the players have managed to hit up most of them quite nicely, and get themselves directly involved of their own volition. It’s wonderful.

Next is the Song of Ice and Fire game (loosely using the system, of the same name, by Green Ronin), for which the Torch of Arbitration has been passed on to my pal Sixten. We kicked of the new chunk of the campaign a coupla weekends back, and it looks like the next session is this coming weekend. I’m looking forward to seeing where this goes.

Also this weekend is a meet-and-greet session for potentially starting up a new Unknown Armies game. I don’t have much to say about that one just yet, because we haven’t discussed it as a group, but I want to see a story of normal folks from different walks of life brought together by mutual exposure to the Occult Underground. More on this as it unfolds.

Further down the road, probably after the Palladium games comes to its natural end, I’ve got an idea to try a Shadowrun variant in which all the magic is removed, and replaced with simple conspiracy. Magic has always been my biggest complaint about Shadowrun, as it just never seemed to fit right. I was introduced to the setting during the transition from First to Second Edition, and the art back then (some by the always-amazing Tim Bradstreet) depicted a far grittier thing than the more fantasy-inspired Shadowrun of today. Old School Shadowrun was like Ghost in the Shell, while modern Shadowrun feels more like Cutey Honey. My thought now is to remove all the magic from the setting, and replace it with mostly-unexplained conspiracy. Like the Great Ghost Dance, for example, wasn’t a magical event. For some reason a call came in from High Command to just let them go, and the US forces complied – and to this day, no one knows why. And Saeder-Krupp isn’t ruled by lofwyr, but merely an entity known as The Dragon. Is it a person? An AI? A cabal of conspirators? Something else?

All this Shadowrun-minus-magic is in my head thanks to my current obsession with the new Deus Ex: Human Revolution game, of course. Very few games have ever affected me as deeply, or tickled that Fun Spot so furiously, as this one. I’ve been taking a primarily non-violent, stealth-based approach to this game, but the story is so good and the characters so realistically portrayed, that there have been moments where in-game narrative events have successfully swayed my decision. “Fuck. That.” I’d say aloud, before switching from trust stun-zapper to armor-piercing guns and brutally taking out every last motherfucker in the room as an act of revenge that I didn’t know I wanted until only seconds before. The character Jenson radiates this almost-tangible aura of cool boredom that personifies him as the ultimate Gibsonian cyberpunk bad-ass. Every inch of the game emanates a complimentary coolness and enforces a setting-appropriate dirty dismalness, creating what I feel is the most amazing cyberpunk gaming experience to date.

Going back to the subject of Tabletop gaming for a monent, I want to take a moment and talk about two services which have revolutionized my game-scheduling: Agree-a-Date and Doodle. These are online tools that allow you to send out a poll of sorts to a group of people, letting them pick which of the arrayed dates are best available for their attendance. As an adult with a full-time job, an active social life, budding romances, and other hobbies, this makes scheduling gaming sessions much, much less of a headache. I’m moving away from Agree-a-date towards Doodle, because it’s less restrictive and not constantly advertising itself to me. But aide from that, Agree-a-Date has served me very well for small-gathering social functions.

I’ve recently set up a profile on RPGGeek, and have begun posting my plays there. Feel free to friend me.

Finally, the current design project codenamed Hagakure 66 has had some great new developments. I can’t share them just, yet, however. I want the revelation to be damn awesome. It’s on its way, though, most definitely.

Download away!

• Treachery! After the founding of the house, the Cors and the Starks each ruled half of the North. Treachery by the Starks, however, one day propelled that family to greatness, reducing the Cors to bannermen.
• Invasion! During the Targaryen conquering, all the best soldiers went south. While gone, the wildlings of the hills actually took arms and defended the locals from raiders and reavers alike. The locals grew to somewhat trust the wildlings, but when the soldiers returned, conflict again arose. Relationships have been tense but oddly respectful ever since.
• Favor! A family ancestor was in the Kingsguard during the time of the Blackfyre rebellion, and personally saved the life of the rightful king. The Cors received much influence
• Glory! During Robert’s Rebellion, the Cors won glory and distinction on the battlefield. The House has always favored strong, powerful women, in the tradition of Lady Corlynne herself. fifteen years ago, when the Starks rode south to aid Robert in his rebellion against the Mad King, the Cors rode with, bringing their elite archers with them. On the battlefield, the Lady of the House earned herself the nickname of The Wasp for her brilliant deployment of archers against the Targaryens.

Today, the Cors are a highly influential house that has fallen on dire economic times. The lord of the house is old and suffering from near-constant bouts of acute dementia. His wife, the legendary Wasp, now tries to convince him to abdicate power to her oldest son, who she believes she can manipulate. The son clashes with the mother, however, as he is no warrior – far from it, his few attempts at battle and war-play have been disastrous and cost the house minor fortunes in recovery. The house’s bankroll is near run dry, due to poor management by an aged Lord whose marbles have been all but smashed, and a warrior-0woman with no skill at finances.

However, the cold winds of change are blowing hard from beyond the Wall. In a peculiar turn of fortune, the Cors have discovered, of all things, actual gold mines deep in their hills. New talent is being brought in to help with managing the mines, both from the Maesters of Oldtown and the from Free Cities beyond the Narrow Sea alike. Trade is the subject of many bar-room chats in the areas, and the region has new eyes upon it again. Rumor has it, King Robert himself is even riding up from King’s Landing to seek counsel with the nearby Starks of Winterfell, which could in turn be a great opportunity to gain favor while he is in the region. Winter is coming, but this time it could bring with it the gleaming shine of fortune.

The following characters have been established, many of which may be player characters, and all of which will have definite agency within the story we will tell:

• The Old Lord has only a rare handful of moments of lucidity. The rest of the time he is a doddering old bat. He has yet to abdicate his power, though…
• The Lady Wasp has aged quite gracefully, and is in the hearts of all her people. She’s an old schemer with a knack for warfare, but little knowledge of economics. She wants her oldest son to assume management of the house, so she can control him. However, if he proves too willful, there’s always Mama’s Boy…
• The Battle-failed Heir is the oldest son. He is pathetic at warfare, but fairly shrewd at politics and coin. This new gold mine discovery could be exactly the opportunity he needs to lead this House into a financial revival. If only his father would abdicate. If only his mother would stop pestering him.
• The Young Warrior follows firmly in Mother’s wake, a solid warrior in his own right. Always Mother’s favorite, his shocking red hair has led to some very quiet rumors that he isn’t actually fathered by the House’s Lord. No attempts have been made to prove this, however, and why would they anyway? The Warrior is beloved by all: a good son, a fine house captain, and a right good looker to boot.
• The Distant Son is middle-born, and long ago was raised as a foster in King’s Landing. He’s now in his late 20s, attempting to maintain a political presence in the south, but in truth he is but a pawn to another lord’s whims.
• The Faithful Sister is the only girl born to the current household, and does not take after her mother at all. She is unwarlike, and has even converted to the faith of the Seven, shunning the ways of the Old Gods of the North. She is training as an acolyte to the Septon of the castle.
• The Heir’s Right hand is a bastard of a distant cousin to the family, the exact same age as the Cor heir. He was taken in and raised as a companion to the future lord, and now serves as the Heir’s investigator and troubleshooter, of sorts.
• The Steadfast Wife of the Youngest son. She is a demure woman of the Umber family, loyal and firm, but gentle and non-scheming. She has mothered two toddlers for her husband.
• The Marbrand Ward is an estranged son of the Marbrand famil (Lannister bannermen), sent north to foster because “he ain’t right.”
• The Wildling Shaman is gathering power, preparing the way for an eventual excursion from Wildling forces beyond the Wall. He is following in the ancestral footsteps of the region’s wildlings of old, trying to gain the favor of the locals with as little bloodshed as possible.
• The Foreign Mine-Master has been brought in from overseas to help manage the mines, because the Cors would be damned before they seek the help of the Lannisters.
• The Maesters, of which there are now two: the Old Master of the family, who knows little of finance, clashing with the Young Master sent from the south to help with the mines.
• The Septon, who is increasingly defensive about his faith in these lands of the Old Gods.

That should be it for now. More posts will come as new ideas are introduced.

I’ve started up a campaign wiki and game log over at Obsidian Portal. There I’m keeping records of various house rules and setting details, as well as a running tracker of who has died so far, when, and how.

Last night had one of my favorite quotes of the campaign so far: “Randy, roll the dice to see if you beat your wife.” Yeah, this game is moving along very nicely.