Enter Tonekron

It's time to introduce another one of the settings I've created. Last time I covered Fronteira, the Elemental Borderlands, a fairly standard fantasy setting; now, it's time to get a little weirder.

Imagine a world immersed in death. Where once the sun shone bright in the sky and life flourished all around, now the sky is black and death is but a day's journey away. At the edges of their lands, creatures of Death itself make forays into their realm, spreading their master's influence. Those who scratch out an existence in these far places often become tainted by deathly energy, turning into ghoulish creatures who feast upon their uncorrupted kin.

How does something like this happen? How can such a place exist?

Origin Story

Long ago, there were two gods, each the master of a unique domain. Vafi, the god of Death, ruled over the realm of Nevma, domain of the soul. Zoj, the goddess of Life, ruled over Soma, home of the physical. These two domains were distinct and separate, and thus they remained stagnant.

Over time, Vafi and Zoj fell in love. In a night of passion between the two, the realms of body and of soul mixed and gave rise to life. Thus was Tondyo created.

The two remained fascinated with what they had created, for a time. Eventually, however, Vafi's attention drifted back to his lover, and he grew jealous of the world for drawing all of her time.

He began to court her, showering her with many wondrous gifts from Nevma. She would examine each in turn, treasuring it for a time before gifting it to her children, the living creatures of Tondyo. The world became increasingly diverse, and it became ever more difficult for Vafi to draw Zoj's attention away from it.

Realizing that he could not compete with his rivals, Vafi formulated a new plan; if nothing from Nevma could hold Zoj's interest, he would give her Tondyo itself. He reached down into the world and withdrew a section of it, carving it into a jewel for his lover. It would be the capstone of his courtship.

Yet when Vafi presented this gem to his lover, she recoiled in horror at his callous disregard for life. Far from winning her affection, his act instead caused Zoj to flee crying back to Soma to mourn for the loss of so many lives.

Crestfallen, Vafi cast the gem away; it landed in Nevma, near the border with Tondyo yet ever out of reach. This jewel, a slice of life forced to dwell in death, became Tonekron, abandoned by the gods. Its remaining inhabitants were left to fend for themselves in a hostile environment, and the experience would change them forever.

Overview of the World

Tonekron is a small continent adrift in a sea of souls; a traveler on horseback can cross from one side of the realm to the other in just under a week. Crossing the borders of Tonekron in any direction results in the traveler entering Nevma, the realm of dead souls. This is a hostile environment, for the dead are an envious lot and seek to steal the spark of life from those who possess it.

Yet the dead cannot easily encroach upon the territory of Tonekron. When Vafi carved it into a jewel for his lover, his magic preserved it in stasis; the spark of life it had when it was a part of Tondyo remains inviolate, though severely weakened. Creatures of Nevma can cross into Tonekron for a time, but they cannot remain and are inevitably forced back to their own domain.

What little light shines upon Tonekron is filtered through the veil between Nevma and Tondyo; the sun itself never appears in the sky above Tonekron. Between Vafi's preserving magic and this small amount of filtered light, the hardy plants of Tonekron can just cling to life. This is enough to keep the humans and animals of the realm from starving, provided their population remains small.

At the center of Tonekron, where Nevma's influence is weakest, lies the largest settlement: Ochiro. It is here where the bulk of humans live, sheltering behind their large stone walls. In the smaller villages which lie closer to the outskirts of Tonekron, it is up to their strongest men and women to fight off the occasional incursion from the dead.

The centuries have squeezed the hope out of most citizens of Tonekron, yet some dream of a better life. Every decade or so, a group of adventurers attempt to cross the expanse of Nevma which lies between them and Tondyo; nobody knows if any ever make it, for none return. But then, would you return to death if you managed to escape it?

Ever-Present Danger

The most obvious expression of Nevma in Tonekron is the abundance of ghosts. When someone dies, their soul is drawn into Nevma to rejoin its kin. In Tonekron, where Nevma engufls the realm, this pull is significantly weaker; therefore, most deaths result in a ghost.

The inhabitants of Tonekron long ago learned a form of burial rite which can lay the soul to rest, sending it back to Nevma where it belongs. Not everyone who dies is in a position to be buried properly, however. The ghosts of the dead which did not receive a proper burial linger; in time, they grow strong enough to become a danger to the living. Only the ghost hunters, a militaristic organization with a chapter in most large villages, stand between the living and the dead.

The ghosts of Tonekron are among its least threatening dangers, however. At the outer edge of the realm, horrific creatures of death occasionally cross into the realm of the living and rampage through the small villages that dot the region. Many are too strong to fight; the people of Tonekron have learned to hide and wait for theses monsters to be drawn back to their native realm.

The most pervasive threat to the living of Tonekron is the ever-present risk of famine. With so little light, few plants can survive the hostile environment; fewer still animals can make it. What little food can be cultivated must be carefully rationed.

In lean times, some people become desperate enough to hunt the creatures of Nevma itself. Though it is fairly easy to bring down one of the smaller beasts that haunt the realm of the dead, this is still a risky move. Eating the flesh of dead souls does provide nourishment, for reasons unknown, yet carries a great curse. Those who eat dead flesh are twisted into monsters half-living and half-dead: ghouls. Driven by an inhuman hunger, they attack and eat anything they can, including humans. The only thing a ghoul will not eat is another ghoul. Entire villages, given in to desperate hunger, have been known to fall prey to this curse and become villages of ghouls.

Passing On

This has been a brief overview of Tonekron: its history and the threats faced by those who dwell within. Next week, I'll cover the tools these hardy citizens use to protect themselves, including the magic they wield.

Catch you next time.

Handling Social Skills

There is a debate that rages eternally in the gaming community. Well, actually, there are several. In fact, most debates rage eternally, and not just in the gaming community. It's kind of become one of the things the internet is known for. "Welcome to the internet, home of cat videos and endless arguments!"

I only wish to cover one of these gaming debates here though: When a player character talks to another character, should the player roll his social skill or act it out?

The reason the debate is never over is because, as is typically the case, people tend to pick answers that lie at the far extremes. "Yes, always roll the social skills! It's all that matters." or "No, this is a role-playing game, so you should play your character's role!"

Extremes are rarely the right answer. Then again, a perfect middle-ground compromise rarely satisfies anyone, either.

In this article I present two options that lie closer to the middle than the extremes. In each case, both the game mechanics and the words spoken by the player matter.

Neither of these ideas are my own. I am not writing this article to declare "Look how clever I am!" so much as to present the two options in the same place, and examine the advantages and disadvantages of using them.

Option 1: Know Your Target

The first option I present is a moderate version of the "always act it out" side of the debate. It is an idea I heard on Happy Jacks RPG podcast; particularly, season 2 episode 15, about an hour in.

Rather than have skills like Persuasion or Deception, a character would have a skill such as Empathy. This skill allows your character to read his opponent and learn what motivates him; it is then up to you, the player, to role-play a conversation that manipulates the opponent using what you know about him. For example:

GM: The secretary stops you at the front desk, saying "You can't just barge in and expect to meet the CEO!" What do you do?

Player: I'm going to try to convince her that I have information that the CEO must hear.

GM: Okay, roll your Empathy.

Player: I got a 17.

GM: You can tell that she's nervous. It seems like the CEO is a pretty harsh boss, and she's afraid of making him angry.

Player: Got it. "I'm really sorry, miss. I don't want to get you in trouble, but if I don't get this information to the CEO in time, this company could lose millions. If you let me in to see him, I won't mention your name; if he asks, I'll say I snuck in."

GM: She considers for a second. "You promise you won't mention me?"

Your character says exactly what you say, how you say it. This increases immersion; you and your character are entirely in sync. Nonetheless, you can play a character who is better or worse than you are at manipulating people by putting an appropriate amount of points in Empathy; no matter how suave the player is, if his character has no points in Empathy he's going to constantly say the wrong thing to the wrong person.

Another advantage is that a social character only has to put points in one skill, which eases the problem of requiring several disparate skills to talk at things. You can wield your words with the same ease you wield a sword; your points aren't divided based on how you go about manipulating people.

It also breathes life into the NPCs of the game world. Rather than allowing a generic Persuasion to convince anybody in the party's path, provided the roll is high enough, now a social character has to tailor his manipulations to the current quarry, based on her personality. Since each NPC, in theory, requires different methods of manipulation, they each feel more like unique individuals.

This system obviously works best in a game like Fate, where characters are defined in part by descriptions rather than just numbers. A successful Empathy roll could yield one or more of a character's Aspects; in theory, the GM should know these Aspects in advance, so that she won't have to be making up motivations on the fly. Fortunately, more games (including D&D 5e) are including systems similar to Aspects, which allows this system to be used with little effort.

The disadvantage is that every character focused on social manipulation begins to feel pretty similar. Of course, this is a problem best solved through application of role-playing, rather than hard-coding a solution into the rules. If you're playing a fast-talking weasel, then you should attempt to convince most NPCs through fast-talking; a mostly-honest inspirational speaker would instead try to sway people with the conviction of her words.

It also doesn't help if a player isn't good at thinking on his feet. After all, just because the player learns that he can manipulate the secretary by using her fear, doesn't mean he'll necessarily think of a convincing way to use that knowledge. Still, it's a far cry better for such a player than just throwing him into the deep end with an open-ended "Now role-play!"

Option 2: Roll with the Punches

The second option comes from the Angry GM. He asks why you have to treat a social action differently from any other action in the game.

Before you roll a skill check in a game, you need to know what you're trying to accomplish and how you're trying to accomplish it. Often this is fairly simple; "I jump across the ravine!" You're trying to get to the other side of the ravine, and you're doing so by jumping. "I swing my sword at the orc's head!" You're trying to kill the orc, and you're doing so by swinging a sword.

Things get trickier when your method involves social manipulation, but the same principle stands. "I try to convince the secretary to let me pass!" isn't a valid action; it declares what you want to accomplish, but now how. In social interaction, the how is derived from what exactly you have your character say; without acting out the conversation, you're missing half of the necessary details required for a skill check to be made.

Let's return to the example above.

GM: The secretary stops you at the front desk, saying "You can't just barge in and expect to meet the CEO!" What do you do?

Player: I'm going to try to convince her that I have information that the CEO must hear.

GM: How?

Player: By rolling Persuasion?

GM: No. What do you say to her?

Player: Oh. "Look. I know you're just doing your job, but if I don't get in to see the CEO within the next couple of minutes, this company is going to lose millions. Heads will roll, and yours very well might be among those that do. But if you just let me pass, I can help save this company. Help me to help you."

GM: Wow. That sounds like you're trying to intimidate her.

Player: I guess you're right. All right, I got a 17 on the Intimidation.

GM: She's visibly trembling, biting her lip. "Fine. Just go."

The GM doesn't allow the player to roll his social skill without first acting out the conversation, because the GM doesn't have enough context to determine what skill the player should roll. She asks him to act things out, and when she has enough information she calls for the roll.

This method doesn't require a player to act out the conversation, if he's not comfortable doing so. Instead, it could go something like this:

GM: The secretary stops you at the front desk, saying "You can't just barge in and expect to meet the CEO!" What do you do?

Player: I'm going to try to convince her that I have information that the CEO must hear.

GM: How?

Player: I'll point out that the company could lose millions if I don't get in to see him soon.

GM: Sounds like you're trying to intimidate her. Roll it.

Either way, the exact words spoken by the player aren't important; it's the intent behind them that matters. No matter how suave the player is, if his character's Intimidate skill isn't that high, he won't be able to convince the secretary that way. If, instead, the player isn't as socially adept as his character, it doesn't matter how unconvincing his words are; the result of the roll determines how convincing the character's attempt was.

The greatest advantage to this system is that it requires no changes to how the rules work in your game of choice; the majority of games are already set up to handle skills in this way. The only change is in how you, as a GM, adjudicate these rules. Rather than allowing a player to declare which skill he's using, you instead get him to act out his character's approach and determine from that information which skill is appropriate.

Further, unlike the first option, it allows a player who's not comfortable role-playing to instead declare his actions as he would any other. If he doesn't want to talk in-character, this system allows him to boil down his character's words to an action declaration; as long as he declares how he's trying to Persuade, or Intimidate, or Deceive, he doesn't have to get into the fine details.

The disadvantage is that this method relies more on the GM to read her players' intents. If the player suddenly starts screaming, in-character, at an NPC, he doesn't always let the GM know in advance why, what he's trying to accomplish by doing so. It might break immersion to ask, but sometimes it's necessary.

Walking the Middle Ground

Of course, the beauty of these two options is that they're not mutually exclusive. If you wish, you can combine the two into one beautiful, socially manipulative whole.

Before a player begins talking to an NPC, he can roll Empathy to get a read on her. Then, using the result of that roll, he acts out the conversation until such a time as the GM decides she knows what he's trying to accomplish and how; then, she asks him to roll his appropriate social skill and adjudicates the result.

Combining them in this way mitigates the disadvantages of both methods, while still keeping their strengths. By having the player declare his action in advance, before making the Empathy roll, the GM gets a valuable nugget of information: what does the player want to accomplish. Then, rather than require the player to role-play a full conversation, if he doesn't wish to he can instead declare the gist of how he's going to try the persuasion, and make a roll to determine how persuasive his character is. Unlike in the purest form of option 1, the method of convincing matters as it determines the skill used in the follow-up roll.

And, of course, the GM may choose to give a hefty bonus to the follow-up roll if the player's approach matches particularly well to the NPC's motivations, learned from the first Empathy roll. A character clever enough to use what he knows about the NPC to manipulate her is much more likely to succeed than one who doesn't.

I Roll to Convince You

So what do you think? Would you like it if your GM used one or both of these options in a game?

I know they don't need a plug from me, as they are both far more popular than I, but if somehow you haven't checked out Happy Jacks or the Angry GM, do so. Their advice is informative and entertaining both.

Catch you next time.