Have you picked up your copy of the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game off of Paizo's website yet?
Well, why not? The Aplha Playtest version is free! Download it, give it a look.
It looks really interesting, to tell the truth. Wizards and Rogues get a higher hit-die. Clerics get to cast orisons at will. There are some other neat ideas in there, as well.
I think its a fantastic way to keep edition 3.5 of D&D around, when 4th edition makes its way to the shelves.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
My first Warhammer session
We had our first Warhammer Fantasy Roleplaying Game session this past Sunday. It felt like it was a complete success! It was a new system for all of us. Only one player had a strong background in the Warhammer setting. One did some research beforehand, and jotted down a one-page character biography (something I didn't expect, but it gave her a good starting point).
I was most impressed that three of the four players opted to use the random generation method to choose careers. As such, we have an Apprentice Wizard, Fisherman, Pit Fighter, and Entertainer (that player chose her career). I discussed the setting, mood and rules. Within a couple of hours, we were ready for a short combat to try out the rules system.
An hour and six dead goblins later, we were ready to play. This was a surprise to me...I expected character creation and the trial combat to take the whole night.
I gave some background to the setting (see my previous post), and started the adventure. There was a riotous mob, accusations of witchcraft, dark magic, and a battle with a beastman.
I was actually left drained. The entire week before, I'd been eating, breathing and drinking Warhammer. I read the rulebook cover-to-cover, and received the Old World Armory and Sigmar's Heirs (the guide to the Empre) Saturday. I'm still coming down from the day. Its difficult to even prep for my D&D game this coming Sunday. This stuff just gets under your skin, you know?
I was most impressed that three of the four players opted to use the random generation method to choose careers. As such, we have an Apprentice Wizard, Fisherman, Pit Fighter, and Entertainer (that player chose her career). I discussed the setting, mood and rules. Within a couple of hours, we were ready for a short combat to try out the rules system.
An hour and six dead goblins later, we were ready to play. This was a surprise to me...I expected character creation and the trial combat to take the whole night.
I gave some background to the setting (see my previous post), and started the adventure. There was a riotous mob, accusations of witchcraft, dark magic, and a battle with a beastman.
I was actually left drained. The entire week before, I'd been eating, breathing and drinking Warhammer. I read the rulebook cover-to-cover, and received the Old World Armory and Sigmar's Heirs (the guide to the Empre) Saturday. I'm still coming down from the day. Its difficult to even prep for my D&D game this coming Sunday. This stuff just gets under your skin, you know?
Friday, March 14, 2008
Some basic notes for my Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay game
Rossenstadt: A rivertown.
A setting for Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay.
The Empire: the year 2522 of the Imperial Calender. The province of Middenland.
Rosenstadt is a town built on the bones of a series of two-centuries-old fortress.
In 2210, a small fortress was constructed on a tributary leading to the Stir river to protect a bridge and road against beastmen and bandits. For fifty years, militia-men and soldiers would be stationed at the fortress, and were successful at defending the path through the woods. In 2264, a tribe of beastmen banded together and assaulted the fortress, razing it to the ground.
In 2408, a small band of road-wardens built a way-station at the site of the old fortress. Some travelers through the area erected a market for traveling merchants at the way-station, and a mill at the river. Before long, a village grew. By the present day, the site has grown to a small town, supporting itself by selling tanned goods and livestock. Some guides have made a living by selling their services to passers-through.
In recent times, the town more militia and mercenaries have made Rossenstadt their base of operations. Though there have been very few sightings of beastmen in the immediate area, men-at-arms have found more and more work in the region. Most of them have said the same thing, in hushed tones in the local tavern: do the townspeople comprehend the threats surrounding them?
Rumors:
Three decades ago, a handful of inquisitors hunted down a necromancer in the surrounding woods. The remains were tossed in a pit and marked with a stone bearing the hammer of Sigmar. Folk say that no animal will go near the area.
The remains of the original soldiers from the first fortress were never found. Maybe the beastmen devoured them. Maybe they raised themselves after their deaths, seeking revenge.
Outlaws and bandits have taken to the woods, attacking anyone still making their way through the woods.
An enclave of elves is hidden in the woods.
A setting for Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay.
The Empire: the year 2522 of the Imperial Calender. The province of Middenland.
Rosenstadt is a town built on the bones of a series of two-centuries-old fortress.
In 2210, a small fortress was constructed on a tributary leading to the Stir river to protect a bridge and road against beastmen and bandits. For fifty years, militia-men and soldiers would be stationed at the fortress, and were successful at defending the path through the woods. In 2264, a tribe of beastmen banded together and assaulted the fortress, razing it to the ground.
In 2408, a small band of road-wardens built a way-station at the site of the old fortress. Some travelers through the area erected a market for traveling merchants at the way-station, and a mill at the river. Before long, a village grew. By the present day, the site has grown to a small town, supporting itself by selling tanned goods and livestock. Some guides have made a living by selling their services to passers-through.
In recent times, the town more militia and mercenaries have made Rossenstadt their base of operations. Though there have been very few sightings of beastmen in the immediate area, men-at-arms have found more and more work in the region. Most of them have said the same thing, in hushed tones in the local tavern: do the townspeople comprehend the threats surrounding them?
Rumors:
Three decades ago, a handful of inquisitors hunted down a necromancer in the surrounding woods. The remains were tossed in a pit and marked with a stone bearing the hammer of Sigmar. Folk say that no animal will go near the area.
The remains of the original soldiers from the first fortress were never found. Maybe the beastmen devoured them. Maybe they raised themselves after their deaths, seeking revenge.
Outlaws and bandits have taken to the woods, attacking anyone still making their way through the woods.
An enclave of elves is hidden in the woods.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
New lessons in working in historical swordsmanship
We did more work on Capo Ferro last night; this time, we looked at one of the more unusual plates, and worked through the interpretation of the movements. I'll write more later, when I have the books in front of me.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Interpretation of Historical Swordfighting: Beyond the Practical (Part 1)
Fencing practice last night: my Don and I took time to go over some questions I've had about some historical sword-fighting techniques.
1: Some people who practice an Italian style of fighting advocate a stance that modern fighters would consider unusual. The stance involves a stretched-out (some would consider it hyper-extended) front leg, with the knee seemingly locked in place. Some students look at plates in Capo Ferro's manual, and claim that as a guard stance. I've tried it, and I can see how it might be used that way, if the opponent is fighting the same way. The lunge you perform from that stance involved flexing the forward knee a great deal (until its in front of the foot, according to the plate), and and leaning forward. When I was first taught to do it, I was taught you can either take a short step into the lunge, or forgo the step, and lunge from the stationary position (and still gain considerable distance).
The plate in the manual shows a straight leg, with the body tilted back, so that you could practically draw a line up the direction of the leg, up the body (when Guy Windsor demonstrates the stance in The Duellist's Companion, he seems to have his front knee bent very slightly). Most of the weight should be on the back leg (70%, one teacher explained to me), until the lunge (at which point, the majority of the weight would be on the front leg, obviously).
My first weekend practicing this technique, my knees hurt to such a point, I could barely walk. Teachers usually respond to that criticism by reminding us students that swordfighters in the 1500's and 1600's were practicing this every day, and were likely much more flexible, and physically fit. That is absolutely true, but I still had some misgivings about the stance.
When Justinian and I went to see John Clements do a demonstration at the Philadelphia Museum, we started seeing things differently. Clements reminded the audience that the plates in the manuals aren't meant to be taken as gospel, necessarily. They are a point in time, a demonstration of the position you are likely to find yourself in when confronted with a particular situation. Very rarely do we see step-by-step movements (the way you may see with a modern instruction manual, for instance).
The plates and manuals are tools used to aid instruction, not meant to be used in place of an instructor. This seems obvious to us, but its an easy thing for hobbiest-historians to forget when we're caught up interpreting movements and texts for modern audiences. We may be afraid to wander out of a recordable jurisdiction, wanting to stay in a place where we can document every possible movement, so we can defend our thesis.
We saw clements do a demonstration of longsword fighting, and during the demonstration, he took a step back, avoiding an attack, and his stance was exactly that "guard" stance of Capo Ferro's. It was used as a void, just before making a counter-attack.
So, we move to our discussion last night. Justinian and I discuss that guard position. We go into stance, and he encourages me to attack. I lunge in quarte to his shoulder. He leans back, assuming that exact "guard" stance (leg stretched out forward, body back), voiding out of the way of my attack; he then counter-attacks in terza to my chest, avoiding the point of my blade.
So, we seem to have validated the use of that stance as a prelude to an attack, certainly...but not as a guard. He used it the same way Clements seemed to use it with the longsword: as a transitional stance (in this case, as a void), before a counter-attack.
We moved to the manual itself, Capo Ferro's Gran Simulacro. One interpretation of the instructions along with plate 7 seems to verify some of what we were discovering. The description of how an opponent ("C.") should avoid a lunge to the eye:
The above description matches, very closely, that guard/void position we'd been trying to interpret.
2: We expanded our discussion to how to make practical use of the plates. The descriptions with the plates assume very specific, but not uncommon, conditions. The introduction to this series of plates, for example, spells out a particular supposition: "always presupposing the stringere on the inside, and the cavar of your Adversary's point to strike."
Initially, this seems like an almost-useless set instructions. If the plates are only useful showing the particular defenses to a very specific set of conditions, then what use are the plates and instructions themselves? To answer this question, we consider the value of the instructional text as a whole.
Earlier in the essay, I mentioned the notion that instructional manuals are best used as tools, meant to augment instruction. If this is the case, what other attributes does the manual carry? Most instructors will remind students of historical sword-fighting to not fall into the trap of using just the plates for instruction; they are an incomplete set of instructions. Without a solid foundation of certain principals, attempts at instruction from plates are doomed to failure.
The Gran Simulacro is the Master's treatise about misura (measure), tempo (time), and how they relate into movement and striking. Without misura and tempo, none of the movements in the plates have any value. They are elements to which he constantly returns, whether talking about guards, movement, or striking. The plates, and their descriptions, are examples of how to best utilize tempo and measure. They aren't meant to stand on their own; rather, they exist as something of "laboratory testing" for the methodology in the text.
(For my notes on basics of misura and tempo, see my notes from "An Introduction to Italian Rapier," published on the Tadcaster Militia website: http://www.tadcastermilitia.com/publish.html
3: We move from the practical, to the philosophy behind the the technique and manual, to its practical application in the reenactment community.
Consider the Italian master, residing in London, in the late 1500's. The Italian style of sword-fighting is in fashion. The London Masters are not completely pleased by the emergence of so many Italian teachers in London. English masters argue that the Italians are not even teaching a true technique; rather, they are teaching young nobles how to murder each other (Silver writes, "neither the Italians, nor any of their best scholers do never fight, but they are most comonly sore hurt, or one or both of them slaine").
So, here is the equation: young nobles, wrapped up wanting to be in fashion, go to Italian sword-masters. Perhaps they are not there to learn the "true art" of rapier, but rather to learn technique and tricks useful in surviving an impending duel. The Italian, being paid handsomely for his knowledge, obliges. The Italian technique quickly develops a reputation as a series of tricks, as opposed to a true style (such as the more "nationalistic" English techniques of wrestling, staff-fighting, long-sword or halberd, all of which were taught by the London Masters of Defense).
So what does that mean for myself, portraying an Italian master in London? My persona may develop a sense of pride, something of a lower-class celebrity (despite being a rapier-man and an instructor, he is still Catholic...not a notion necessarily favored England at the time). I might participate with the London Masters (or the East Kingdom's loose equivalent, the League of Rapier Academies), merely for my own survival. I would certainly expound upon the mastery of the thrusting-form, as opposed to cutting. And I would demonstrate the mastery of the form by performing in expositions, and perhaps duels.
Practice last night was a full night of examples of historical technique, and how to interpret the technique for both practical rapier instruction and personal development. My hope is to build each lesson in the same manner: move from practical fighting applications to other ways technique can be applied to the reenactment community.
Lorenzo Gorla. CSC. AoA. QHD. Companion of the Silver Gauntlet (Iron Bog). Captain: League of Rapier Academies. Proctor and co-founder: Hawkwood Academy of Arms (an academy of the East Kingdom LoRA).
(c) W. Michael Goodman. 2008.
1: Some people who practice an Italian style of fighting advocate a stance that modern fighters would consider unusual. The stance involves a stretched-out (some would consider it hyper-extended) front leg, with the knee seemingly locked in place. Some students look at plates in Capo Ferro's manual, and claim that as a guard stance. I've tried it, and I can see how it might be used that way, if the opponent is fighting the same way. The lunge you perform from that stance involved flexing the forward knee a great deal (until its in front of the foot, according to the plate), and and leaning forward. When I was first taught to do it, I was taught you can either take a short step into the lunge, or forgo the step, and lunge from the stationary position (and still gain considerable distance).
The plate in the manual shows a straight leg, with the body tilted back, so that you could practically draw a line up the direction of the leg, up the body (when Guy Windsor demonstrates the stance in The Duellist's Companion, he seems to have his front knee bent very slightly). Most of the weight should be on the back leg (70%, one teacher explained to me), until the lunge (at which point, the majority of the weight would be on the front leg, obviously).
My first weekend practicing this technique, my knees hurt to such a point, I could barely walk. Teachers usually respond to that criticism by reminding us students that swordfighters in the 1500's and 1600's were practicing this every day, and were likely much more flexible, and physically fit. That is absolutely true, but I still had some misgivings about the stance.
When Justinian and I went to see John Clements do a demonstration at the Philadelphia Museum, we started seeing things differently. Clements reminded the audience that the plates in the manuals aren't meant to be taken as gospel, necessarily. They are a point in time, a demonstration of the position you are likely to find yourself in when confronted with a particular situation. Very rarely do we see step-by-step movements (the way you may see with a modern instruction manual, for instance).
The plates and manuals are tools used to aid instruction, not meant to be used in place of an instructor. This seems obvious to us, but its an easy thing for hobbiest-historians to forget when we're caught up interpreting movements and texts for modern audiences. We may be afraid to wander out of a recordable jurisdiction, wanting to stay in a place where we can document every possible movement, so we can defend our thesis.
We saw clements do a demonstration of longsword fighting, and during the demonstration, he took a step back, avoiding an attack, and his stance was exactly that "guard" stance of Capo Ferro's. It was used as a void, just before making a counter-attack.
So, we move to our discussion last night. Justinian and I discuss that guard position. We go into stance, and he encourages me to attack. I lunge in quarte to his shoulder. He leans back, assuming that exact "guard" stance (leg stretched out forward, body back), voiding out of the way of my attack; he then counter-attacks in terza to my chest, avoiding the point of my blade.
So, we seem to have validated the use of that stance as a prelude to an attack, certainly...but not as a guard. He used it the same way Clements seemed to use it with the longsword: as a transitional stance (in this case, as a void), before a counter-attack.
We moved to the manual itself, Capo Ferro's Gran Simulacro. One interpretation of the instructions along with plate 7 seems to verify some of what we were discovering. The description of how an opponent ("C.") should avoid a lunge to the eye:
Yet I also say that if C. should be a wise person, when he cavo [moves the point of the blade in a disengaging-type motion] to finta [feint] with the vita [body] held back somewhat, and D. will surely proceed to strike C. C., having parried by falso [the "back" side of the sword] or by edge from outside of the enemy's sword, will give him a dritto to the face or an imbroccata in such an end he should retire in low quarta.
The above description matches, very closely, that guard/void position we'd been trying to interpret.
2: We expanded our discussion to how to make practical use of the plates. The descriptions with the plates assume very specific, but not uncommon, conditions. The introduction to this series of plates, for example, spells out a particular supposition: "always presupposing the stringere on the inside, and the cavar of your Adversary's point to strike."
Initially, this seems like an almost-useless set instructions. If the plates are only useful showing the particular defenses to a very specific set of conditions, then what use are the plates and instructions themselves? To answer this question, we consider the value of the instructional text as a whole.
Earlier in the essay, I mentioned the notion that instructional manuals are best used as tools, meant to augment instruction. If this is the case, what other attributes does the manual carry? Most instructors will remind students of historical sword-fighting to not fall into the trap of using just the plates for instruction; they are an incomplete set of instructions. Without a solid foundation of certain principals, attempts at instruction from plates are doomed to failure.
The Gran Simulacro is the Master's treatise about misura (measure), tempo (time), and how they relate into movement and striking. Without misura and tempo, none of the movements in the plates have any value. They are elements to which he constantly returns, whether talking about guards, movement, or striking. The plates, and their descriptions, are examples of how to best utilize tempo and measure. They aren't meant to stand on their own; rather, they exist as something of "laboratory testing" for the methodology in the text.
(For my notes on basics of misura and tempo, see my notes from "An Introduction to Italian Rapier," published on the Tadcaster Militia website: http://www.tadcastermilitia.com/publish.html
3: We move from the practical, to the philosophy behind the the technique and manual, to its practical application in the reenactment community.
Consider the Italian master, residing in London, in the late 1500's. The Italian style of sword-fighting is in fashion. The London Masters are not completely pleased by the emergence of so many Italian teachers in London. English masters argue that the Italians are not even teaching a true technique; rather, they are teaching young nobles how to murder each other (Silver writes, "neither the Italians, nor any of their best scholers do never fight, but they are most comonly sore hurt, or one or both of them slaine").
So, here is the equation: young nobles, wrapped up wanting to be in fashion, go to Italian sword-masters. Perhaps they are not there to learn the "true art" of rapier, but rather to learn technique and tricks useful in surviving an impending duel. The Italian, being paid handsomely for his knowledge, obliges. The Italian technique quickly develops a reputation as a series of tricks, as opposed to a true style (such as the more "nationalistic" English techniques of wrestling, staff-fighting, long-sword or halberd, all of which were taught by the London Masters of Defense).
So what does that mean for myself, portraying an Italian master in London? My persona may develop a sense of pride, something of a lower-class celebrity (despite being a rapier-man and an instructor, he is still Catholic...not a notion necessarily favored England at the time). I might participate with the London Masters (or the East Kingdom's loose equivalent, the League of Rapier Academies), merely for my own survival. I would certainly expound upon the mastery of the thrusting-form, as opposed to cutting. And I would demonstrate the mastery of the form by performing in expositions, and perhaps duels.
Practice last night was a full night of examples of historical technique, and how to interpret the technique for both practical rapier instruction and personal development. My hope is to build each lesson in the same manner: move from practical fighting applications to other ways technique can be applied to the reenactment community.
Lorenzo Gorla. CSC. AoA. QHD. Companion of the Silver Gauntlet (Iron Bog). Captain: League of Rapier Academies. Proctor and co-founder: Hawkwood Academy of Arms (an academy of the East Kingdom LoRA).
(c) W. Michael Goodman. 2008.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
From the "I got one and you probably didn't," department...
I spent part of the afternoon at Natural 20 in Collinswood, NJ. I wasn't planning on buying much of anything. I was hoping to find a set of Dungeon Tiles (they had the entire set; I picked up the first set), but while I was glancing at the shelves, I saw a copy of this:
That's the copy of the role-playing rules for Warhammer 40K, Dark Heresy.
Did I get it because I've been addicted to the setting for years? Because I'm a hard-core Warhammer 40K fan?
Nope. Played 40K once or twice. Don't know a whole heck of a lot about the setting.
It's just so darn pretty.
I mean, just look at it.
Buncha bad-asses on the cover, holding guns, and looking...um...bad...
...and stuff...
Okay, okay...the truth is, my collector's instinct hit me. All the RPG's published by Black Industries are being discontinued. I've heard nothing but good things about the book, and it sounds like a great read. Plus, I already have a copy of the Warhammer Fantasy Roleplaying Game, so it feels good to know I have its "sister" product.
So, I'm happy with the purchase. I'm excited to read it (its next on my list, after a collection of Kurt Vonnegut short stories I'm enjoying right now).
That's the copy of the role-playing rules for Warhammer 40K, Dark Heresy.
Did I get it because I've been addicted to the setting for years? Because I'm a hard-core Warhammer 40K fan?
Nope. Played 40K once or twice. Don't know a whole heck of a lot about the setting.
It's just so darn pretty.
I mean, just look at it.
Buncha bad-asses on the cover, holding guns, and looking...um...bad...
...and stuff...
Okay, okay...the truth is, my collector's instinct hit me. All the RPG's published by Black Industries are being discontinued. I've heard nothing but good things about the book, and it sounds like a great read. Plus, I already have a copy of the Warhammer Fantasy Roleplaying Game, so it feels good to know I have its "sister" product.
So, I'm happy with the purchase. I'm excited to read it (its next on my list, after a collection of Kurt Vonnegut short stories I'm enjoying right now).
Monday, February 4, 2008
The Challenge of Higher Levels (a topic I'll probably return to again and again)
I'm running a D&D game with some friends right now, and they've made it up to 12th/13th level. One player told me he doesn't care for higher-level games of D&D, and claimed that at those power levels, each encounter is either an absolute victory or an absolute failure; you're either well-prepared to handle that challenge rating of an encounter or you're not. I thought about that a little bit, and considered how I create encounters for my higher level games.
I don't believe that, at higher levels, an encounter is any more an absolute victory or absolute failure any more than at lower levels. But then again, many of my encoutners aren't the traditional D&D kick-in-the-door, deal-with-the-monster encounters. Here are a few things I do to mix up my encounters, to make even slightly lower-level creatures a higher-level threat:
1: I'll play with the battlefield. A dungeon encounter may include traps along with the monster, blockades, or nuisances that can slowly deplete characters' resources while in a combat. for outdoor encoutners, I'll use buildings, foliage, and geographical features to augment the creatures' abilities.
I had one encounter that spanned the interior and exterior of a run-down inn, which included, if I remember correctly, 2 ogres, a goblin sorceror. The sorceror hassled PC's left in the inn, used cover, and threw spells outside to PC's combatting the bigger guys. The ogres were steamrollers, destroying any cover the PC's were using.
2: Social combat always makes things interesting. Obvioulsy, not every encoutner has to be combat-oriented. We've had one session that was just the players negotiating with a dragon NPC, and making it out safely (with tons of information relating to storyline in the campaign). Some levels of social interaction tend to spice up encounters that are even 'destined" to become combat encounters. They keep all the players' attention, and still give the opportunity to use characters' skills and other resources.
3: The stakes get bigger. Lets face it: in D&D, fear of character death isn't a terribly huge motivation. There are too many opportunities for Raise Dead-style spells. Once the players begin to care abou the campaign world, though, any threats to the world itself become a bigger motivator for the game. The trick is, getting the players to care.
That's always the tricky part. I'm lucky that, as of right now, I have players that do have their characters care about their campaign world. When they don't, then its back to some old-school GM tricks: they probably care more about their treasure. So its time to undertake quests to remove curses from their magic items, etc.
None of this is new or revolutionary. Everybody who has played or GM'ed in a RPG has figured alot of these techniques out. I find it interesting, though, how much you have to remind yourself about them for D&D. Its like they're easy to forget, once you start mapping a dungeon or rolling on the treasure tables. The trick is to not let them go, I reckon.
I don't believe that, at higher levels, an encounter is any more an absolute victory or absolute failure any more than at lower levels. But then again, many of my encoutners aren't the traditional D&D kick-in-the-door, deal-with-the-monster encounters. Here are a few things I do to mix up my encounters, to make even slightly lower-level creatures a higher-level threat:
1: I'll play with the battlefield. A dungeon encounter may include traps along with the monster, blockades, or nuisances that can slowly deplete characters' resources while in a combat. for outdoor encoutners, I'll use buildings, foliage, and geographical features to augment the creatures' abilities.
I had one encounter that spanned the interior and exterior of a run-down inn, which included, if I remember correctly, 2 ogres, a goblin sorceror. The sorceror hassled PC's left in the inn, used cover, and threw spells outside to PC's combatting the bigger guys. The ogres were steamrollers, destroying any cover the PC's were using.
2: Social combat always makes things interesting. Obvioulsy, not every encoutner has to be combat-oriented. We've had one session that was just the players negotiating with a dragon NPC, and making it out safely (with tons of information relating to storyline in the campaign). Some levels of social interaction tend to spice up encounters that are even 'destined" to become combat encounters. They keep all the players' attention, and still give the opportunity to use characters' skills and other resources.
3: The stakes get bigger. Lets face it: in D&D, fear of character death isn't a terribly huge motivation. There are too many opportunities for Raise Dead-style spells. Once the players begin to care abou the campaign world, though, any threats to the world itself become a bigger motivator for the game. The trick is, getting the players to care.
That's always the tricky part. I'm lucky that, as of right now, I have players that do have their characters care about their campaign world. When they don't, then its back to some old-school GM tricks: they probably care more about their treasure. So its time to undertake quests to remove curses from their magic items, etc.
None of this is new or revolutionary. Everybody who has played or GM'ed in a RPG has figured alot of these techniques out. I find it interesting, though, how much you have to remind yourself about them for D&D. Its like they're easy to forget, once you start mapping a dungeon or rolling on the treasure tables. The trick is to not let them go, I reckon.
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