Sunday, October 16, 2016

AI War 2 Kickstarter

This post has nothing to do with RPGs, except inasmuch as people who like ACKS sometimes like the sort of niche videogames that I like (Dwarf Fortress, Crusader Kings / EU4, Mount and Blade...).

AI War: Fleet Command is one of those niche games that I think ACKS people might like.  It's a campaign-scale, highly asymmetric real-time strategy game.  It is always played as a human (or cooperating human team) against two AIs.  The AIs start with control of most of the map, and a very strong numerical advantage that only increases over time.  The humans control the tempo of the game, and do a lot of scouting and raiding for capturable resources.  They must achieve superior local concentrations of force in offensive operations, which must be quick enough that the AI's reserves cannot arrive before the objective is accomplished.  On defense, human players often rely heavily on traps / static defenses.

The human win condition is the destruction of both AI homeworlds, while the AI wins if the human's home command center is destroyed.  A typical map is 60-80 star systems, one of which is the human homeworld and the rest of which begin under AI control, and a typical game lasts 8+ hours.  Taking worlds from the AI increases the AI's perception of human threat, which increases its tech level and available reinforcements, so it is critical to take only the worlds that you really need while bypassing the rest (or destroying their fortifications to make them reasonably safe to travel through).

This is very much a game about picking your battles, both tactically (pulling the fleet out if too much heat starts to arrive) and strategically (only taking the planets that are worth the increase in AI tech).  Of all the games I've played that were billed as "real-time strategy", this one has the greatest strategy component.  And the AI design is notably distributed and devious.

Unfortunately, the graphics are terrible, and over the seven years since its release there have been a bunch of expansions, which present a dizzying array of configuration options and units if not disabled.

But recently there is a kickstarter for AI War 2, with 3d graphics (actually for performance reasons - turns out modern graphics cards like rendering 3d objects in realtime better than they like rendering sprites in realtime) and a return to the roots.  It may or may not make the funding goal; it's looking like a close thing.  So maybe go take a look.

Thursday, October 13, 2016

On Running the Megadungeon: Monstrous NPCs

A long time ago, I started a series of posts intended to distill down OSR hearsay wisdom while linking OSR newbies to stuff that might want to read.  The first two posts went well!  But I got stuck on "advice for actually running an old-school dungeoncrawl."  I did not find much advice on this, and I suspect much of it was contradictory (or already covered in the first post, on general OSR advice).  Moreover, I was lacking in recent experience - at that time I hadn't run a game in a year, and certainly not a dungeoncrawling game.

While I have had some recent experience running dungeons, I still don't feel ready to write that post.  But this is a start in that direction.

Looking back on my past experiences running ACKS dungeons in contrast with RatHell, I recognize a critical mistake.  My previous dungeons were very undead-and-vermin heavy.  Of my six previous ACKS dungeons and ~50? sessions of ACKS, I recall about 15 dungeon encounters with sentients, most of which led to immediate violence and extermination.  I think only about three of the sentient groups encountered ever mattered in a later session.  A far cry from the "factions in the dungeon" that I mentioned in my previous post, but apparently failed to use in practice.

Relatedly, I also realized that my NPC game in ACKS has, historically, been extremely weak.  I'd create a couple town NPCs, and they'd mostly be ignored or killed.  The most mileage I got out of a townie NPC was that time an assassin guildmaster got out of Dodge before the party could catch him.  They sent spies after him and lived in fear of his return and it was great.  But ultimately my primary source of interesting NPCs was actually henchmen who defected - the party had an emotional investment and interest in them, and were on neutral footing; not out to kill 'em, but not friendly and downright helpful either.  This is where interesting "let's make a deal" interactions happen.  Also a good place for mutual suspicion and sudden but inevitable betrayal.

I think these things, lack of recurring intelligent monsters and lack of good NPCs, are very much related.

When the majority of the party's time and attention is in the dungeon, the dungeon is the correct place to find and create NPCs, and for the DM to spend effort on fleshing out NPCs.  And by NPCs, I mean "people the party wants to talk to rather than stab on sight," using "people" loosely.  Intelligent monsters who aren't necessarily immediately hostile and who survive multiple sessions are A+ NPCs.

Named NPCs in RatHell that the party knows about:
  • Duke Kasimir: He's in charge of town.
  • Seljuk the Tatar: He runs an institution where townsfolk can bet on which adventurers will survive dungeon expeditions.
  • Pox the Piper: Late ratman chieftain, RIP.
  • Scarface: Ratman taken prisoner and interrogated, named for "gruesome scarring" mortal wounds result from the fight where the party captured him.
  • Scabies: Ratman distiller, location noted on Scarface's map.  Party has heard that he is a very reasonable businessrat, and they want to visit him.
  • Limper: Ratman who fled after the party shot him in the leg with a crossbow.
  • Dogeater: Ratman hero who killed the party's dog and their cleric and escaped to tell about it.  I think he deserves a bigger hat and another hit die.
Are any of these ratman NPCs going to be really friendly toward the party?  Probably not.  They have some grudges against the party, and the party has some grudges against them.  But there's another ratman lair to the north of the late Chieftain Pox's realm, and that clan is just itching to expand south...  and they're more than willing to feed Pox's kin to the Marrow Gnawer.  So maybe it's time to cut some deals.

At this point, my tentative rule is that any intelligent monster who escapes an encounter with the party gets a name until I've filled out a reasonable roster of dungeon NPCs.  The joy of emergent ratman names is that I can use the sort of thing my players would've nicknamed them anyway...

This shift of the focus of NPC-creation to the dungeon mirrors the "the game is in the wilderness/dungeon, not in town" philosophy of the Western Marches.  Town is boring.  Townsfolk are boring.  They don't have anything you want that you can take without getting in deep trouble with the law.  Dungeon NPCs, on the other hand, have treasure and information and strength that can be applied to other critters in the dungeon, and you can kill 'em and take their stuff.  So much potential!

Another benefit of making heavier use of intelligent foes is that it is entertaining and intellectually stimulating for the DM, much more so than running stupid monsters.  Even with the orcs in Midnight, I felt constrained by the orc-nature, and my players' expectations of orcs as not very clever.  But ratmen are an unknown quantity, which leaves me free to make them reasonably devious.  It's a much nicer way to run intelligent foes than having to deal with classed/demihuman NPC stats.  I have been enjoying the counter-for-counter with my players, and being a ratman-bastard DM in general.

Sunday, October 9, 2016

Reflections on a Session: 9 October 2016

  • Time spent: ~6 hours
    • DMing: ~4.5 hours
    • Presession, Ethan chargen: ~1 hour (I missed Drew's message that he couldn't make it)
    • NPC Plotting: ~0.25 hours
    • Writing cryptic messages to players: ~0.25 hours
  • No new areas mapped
  • No rooms restocked (but some monsters reorganized on the fly)
  • Dungeon areas explored in 4.5 hours of play:
    • 1 lair cleared
    • 1 monster
  • Game-time elapsed in dungeon: ~2 hours in two expeditions
    • Random encounters checked: 3 
    • Random encounters missed: 3
  • Party composition:
    • Beardwin the Optimist, Craftpriest 2 (KIA)
      • Clever Paul, Dwarven Delver 1 (mortally wounded)
      • Kendra, Spellsword 1? (very KIA)
    • Dora, Explorer 3
      • Gertrude, War Dog (KIA)
      • ???, Fighter 2?
    • Brynja, Bladedancer 3
      • Crapahildis, L0 torchbearer hired for her amusing name and total lack of standards in employers.  Likes to roll poorly on morale.
      • Spike, War Dog
    • Clarence of the Stone, Craftpriest 2
  • Mortal wounds taken: 4
    • First expedition:
      • Clever Paul opened the door to a room full of ready ratmen, who charged him with spears.  He was hit once, and I rolled max damage which was doubled for spearcharge.  Party cleared the room he had fallen in, took an injured ratman prisoner, and got out.  Blinded, subsequently RL&L'd but needs a month of bedrest.  In addition to his imp, he is now at -10% XP until he levels.
      • Following PC attack on the ratman village, the ratmen executed Binhildis the Paladin, whom they had captured during the previous session.
    • Second expedition:
      • Kendra advanced too far ahead of the rest of the party in pursuit of fleeing opponents, spearcharged for max damage.  Killed instantly and messily, some of the lowest mortal wounds modifiers we've ever seen.
      • Gertrude moved to cover the party's flank / rear and was spearcharged for almost max-damage, slain (we didn't actually roll dog mortal wounds...  maybe we should next time)
      • Beardwin also moved to cover the party's flank and was behind Gertrude, caught a max-damage spear charge cleave on a natural 20.  Fell onto a torch as his last action, which ignited the oil in his pack, blocking the ratmen's advance against the party's ballistae (yes plural, and yes in the dungeon).
    • In conclusion: charging with spears is very dangerous, especially when I am rolling high.
  • Loot recovered:
    • Ratman throne of beaten copper worth ~1kgp
    • 4 gems worth 150 gp total
    • Ice Sword, Boots of Elvenkind, and Potion of Heroism lost on 17 September were recovered
    • One unidentified potion
  • Traps triggered: 0
  • XP from monsters: ~270
    • Loot pretty close to the 4:1 intended ratio
Other notes:

The wizard couldn't make it today, which was not really ideal timing for assaulting the ratman lair.  Especially irritating because I used the severed head of his late favorite henchman as a message-delivery mechanism before the session; I'd've chosen someone else's dead henchman if I knew he wouldn't be there.  All about that emotional investment, you know.

The players did a number of clever things.  The Darkness spell was used to great effect to limit the ratmen's ability to observe the party's actions and fire on them from the rooves of buildings.  A prisoner was taken, interrogated, and eliminated from consideration for the assault ("Friendly advice, make sure you and your gang are out hunting tomorrow afternoon, instead of at the lair.").  He provided a rough map of some areas the party hasn't explored yet.  Military oil was employed to good effect, to close some ratman avenues of attack.  The party brought two light ballistae (one repeating) into the dungeon on mules, and set them up to cover their ingress into the lair (using Darkness to conceal this preparation from the ratmen, during which the thus-alerted ratmen readied their troops).  They also had a plan to destroy the ballistae if they had to retreat, to deny them to the ratmen.

Nevertheless, the ratmen mounted a fairly effective elastic defense, spearcharging advance elements of the party (door-openers) and then retreating, and circling around to attack the party's middle.  Most ratman casualties were to ranged firepower (the Explorer and the ballistae), including the chieftain.  I'm not totally happy with my ratman tactics - I failed to develop an effective counter to the Explorer (who was previously marked as "priority one in future engagements") or to the Darkness, failed to utilize military oil obtained from the slain and captured party members last session, and did not take advantage of the roof of the portal building to ambush the PCs.

The party also made a few mistakes, all of which were basically overextensions.  Clever Paul and Kendra both advanced too far too fast, and got stabbed.  The melee elements of the party also separated from the ranged elements during the second expedition, and the ratmen tried to get into that gap (but then it was full of dwarven fire, and they were badly shot-up during their retreat).  Kendra's loss was particularly bad because she had an uncast sleep that could've prevented the two casualties from that central counterattack.  Live by the spellsword, die by the spellsword.

I did a good job rolling morale and asking for henchman morale rolls where appropriate.

Rules mistakes: we almost certainly mis-played the ballista attacks; I wasn't expecting siege weapons and didn't prepare for this at all (frankly, even after re-reading all three of ACKS Core's, DaW:Battles', and DaW:Campaigns' sections on artillery, I'm still not clear on how ballistae are supposed to work against creatures).  I expect they'll see use again.  Likewise ballista setup time (though given that they're light ballistae, I think one turn to setup is probably more reasonable than whatever DaW's guidelines would be) and light ballista ammunition costs.  I wasn't totally clear on the "closing hit" rule for spears and kind of winged it to give Kendra a dying shot, but it looks like I was pretty close.  While re-reading the init section to discover this, though, I realized that we've been doing ready/delay wrong (there is an option for it, when we thought there wasn't).  I also winged Fighting Retreat when those came up on ratman morale.  I doubled the treasure ad-hoc (in accordance with my old resolution), which turned out to be the right thing to bring it closer into balance with monster XP, so I feel good about that. Winged the rules for splash-hits with military oil, did less damage than it should've, and couldn't remember the burn duration for areas covered in oil.

Social/soft issues: we ordered food and it took forever to arrive.  People were getting tired and hungry around the middle of hour three, as the assault on the lair was in progress, and then we broke to eat in the middle of that action as things were looking grim.  Not ideal.  As usual, the mapper took charge of planning; efforts were made to involve other players with some success, but they were hungry.  I took a long damn time to produce the sub-map that their prisoner drew for the party, which depending on how you look at it either destroyed pacing or provided a nice lull between the reconnaissance raid of the first expedition and the ballista-supported assault of the second.

Saturday, October 1, 2016

D&D, Vietnam, and the Dungeon

Seeing Like a State's mention of compulsory village formation / sedentarization in precolonial Thailand reminded me of a similar phenomenon during the Vietnam War: the relocation of peasants into "Strategic Hamlets", where they could be monitored, in order to keep them from providing assistance to Viet Cong guerillas, which I had read about in War of the Flea I think.  This, combined with the savage beating my players took last session, brought to mind a blog post I once read by an old D&D player who played with his father, who was a Vietnam veteran and relentlessly paranoid in the dungeon.  Despite my best efforts at googling, I have failed to find that post.  Instead, I found this, which was pretty interesting, but left me with some unvoiced questions.

Whither dungeons?  Moria's all well and good, but as movie adaptations have shown, it's easily distilled down to a Five Room Dungeon.  I suppose there was some dungeoneering in the old Conan stories, though I've not read them.  But the campaign-tentpole megadungeon full of traps, and the style of exploration and dirty fighting that surrounded it, is not a thing I recall seeing much in fantasy (even post-D&D fantasy).

And then today, I stumbled on this excellent thread on that finest of subreddits, /r/AskHistorians, and via it the Cu Chi Tunnel Complex.  It's 75 miles long - the original megadungeon, the real deal.  Way too big to clear, and full of traps.

My contention, in extension of MacDougall's idea that D&D came out of the culture war in the Vietnam era, is that old-school megadungeoncrawling came specifically out of the American experience in tunnel-fighting in Vietnam.  Why else the great concern with light and darkness and air currents?  Why else the absurdly slow exploration movement speed, the concern with getting lost, the trap paranoia?  Somebody had been there, or read the reports.

It nicely explains the division between henchmen and mercenaries - henchmen and PCs are tunnel rats, crazy enough to go into an infinite hole full of traps.

Tucker's Kobolds are a profoundly guerilla war experience, a gamerculture memory of the Viet Cong.  The article is also interesting historically.  We observe that by 1987 (when Dragon #127 was published), 16 years after the withdrawal of American troops from Vietnam, this style of playing the opposition was atypical (the publication of OD&D, meanwhile, was in 1974, also after the withdrawal of troops).  We also observe that the author was at the time in the Army.  Makes you wonder if the emergence of the New School was correlated with the dilution of the 'Nam vets in the gamer community.

The ecology of the Cu Chi Original Megadungeon, meanwhile, was supported by a combination of imports from the Ho Chi Minh Trail and rice grown on the surface by cooperative peasants.  This works somewhat less well in a fantasy setting where you can ethically exterminate the beastman villages responsible for growing food on the surface (although at low levels when dungeoneering is usually happening, PCs may not be powerful enough to attack surface villages).  But putting some fraction of beastman wilderness lairs underground (instead of aboveground villages) does solve some of my wilderness-level problems (including "let's throw mercenaries at this problem" and "let's just light it on fire from the air", which are perfectly valid strategies but sort of repetitive after a while).  It all goes very nicely with the notion of nonstate spaces, too.  The domain game is fundamentally about creating bubbles of order and safety, "pacified regions", and maps nicely to the poor counter-insurgency war conducted in Vietnam.

I wonder to what degree the "PCs are always foreigners" trope (as in Tekumel, among other places) was a product of necessity (in terms of DM bandwidth and player attention limits) and laziness, and how much it was a product of, again, the American military experience in Vietnam...  We also see Occupied Territory scenarios not that infrequently, including in Morrowind and Skyrim on the videogame side, and inverted in Midnight (with the PCs as rebels rather than occupiers).  Come to think of it, I don't recall the last time I saw a scenario that cast the PCs in with the occupiers; culture shift I guess (not that it stopped us from doing it again 30 years later...).

Sunday, September 25, 2016


So I finally finished Seeing Like a State, and the second-to-last chapter on "metis", while very different from the rest of the book, was also very interesting.

The concept [and the word, metis] comes to us from the ancient Greeks. Odysseus was frequently praised for having metis in abundance and for using it to outwit his enemies and make his way home. Metis is typically translated into English as “cunning” or “cunning intelligence." While not wrong, this translation fails to do justice to the range of knowledge and skills repre­sented by metis. Broadly understood, metis represents a wide array of practical skills and acquired intelligence in responding to a constantly changing natural and human environment. Odysseus's metis was in evi­dence, not only in his deceiving of Circe, the Cyclops, and Polyphemus and in binding himself to the mast to avoid the Sirens, but also in hold­ing his men together, in repairing his ship, and in improvising tactics to get his men out of one tight spot after another. The emphasis is both on Odysseus’s ability to adapt successfully to a constantly shifting situ­ation and on his capacity to understand, and hence outwit, his human and divine adversaries.

All human activities require a considerable degree of metis, but some activities require far more. To begin with skills that require adapting to a capricious physical environment, the acquired knowledge of how to sail, fly a kite, fish, shear sheep, drive a car, or ride a bicycle re­lies on the capacity for metis. Each of these skills requires hand-eye co­ordination that comes with practice and a capacity to "read" the waves, the wind, or the road and to make the appropriate adjustments. One powerful indication that they all require metis is that they are excep­tionally difficult to teach apart from engaging in the activity itself. One might imagine trying to write down explicit instructions on how to ride a bicycle, but one can scarcely imagine that such instructions would en­able a novice to ride a bicycle on the first try. The maxim “Practice makes perfect” was devised for such activities as this, inasmuch as the continual, nearly imperceptible adjustments necessary for riding a bi­cycle are best learned by having to make them. Only through an ac­quired "feel” for balanced motion do the required adjustments become automatic. No wonder that most crafts and trades requiring a touch or feel for implements and materials have traditionally been taught by long apprenticeships to master craftsmen.

There is no doubt that some individuals seem to get the hang of a particular skill and master it more quickly than most other people. But beyond this ineffable difference (which often spells the difference between competence and genius), riding a bike, sailing, fishing, shearing sheep, and so on can be learned through practice. Since every road, wind, stream, and sheep is different and continually changing, the best practitioner, like Odysseus, will have had experience under many differ­ent conditions. If your life depended on your ship coming through rough weather, you would surely prefer a successful captain with long experi­ence to, say, a brilliant physicist who had analyzed the natural laws of sailing but who had never actually sailed a vessel.

Scott then goes on to talk about metis in emergency response, medical diagnostics, social situations, combat, and agriculture (his specialty).  He also contrasts metis with "techne", characterized as formal, quantified scientific knowledge of an activity (as suggested in his example of the physicist piloting a ship).

I see two obvious relations to the RPG field here.  The first is "why is so much DMing advice so useless."  Metis is why.  Canned advice is often inapplicable or downright harmful in the specific group that a DM finds himself working with.  Moreover, most DMs (being poorly-socialized nerds) are poor observers of people, and probably have very little conscious knowledge of the people in their group and the dynamics of the group (especially given that they as DMs are hardly impassive observers, being involved with the group).  To draw an agricultural metaphor, they know next-to-nothing about the soil and hydrography of the field they're trying to grow campaigns on.  DMing also lacks a good apprenticeship mechanism (which Scott notes is a common feature of metis-heavy endeavours) - while players do observe a DM working, their perspective as heroically-self-centered semi-adversaries who don't see any of the prep involved makes this ineffective for learning to DM.  In this light, it is unsurprising that many DMs are bad and many campaigns suck, fail spectacularly, or both.

Alexis' How to Run is notable among DMing advice pieces in part because it fundamentally acknowledges this, that DMing is metis-driven, and consequently demands a great deal of attention to the particular quirks of your players.  This is also one of its more frustrating features - when Alexis talks about the actual back-and-forth, the way he manages and runs his game during a session, it seems unattainable and maybe a little self-inflated, though he makes very clear that his capabilities are the product of long practice with his particular group (establishing, for example, shared language conventions for mapping).  This is another thing worth noting with metis, that it is intensely specific and local; Scott draws the comparison between the commercial sea-captain, who knows a little about a lot of places, and the harbor-pilot who knows one harbor very, very well.  When you change systems and groups, you lose the advantage of your "local" knowledge about the nature of your players, how they interact with each other, and how they interact with particular systems.

The second, less-serious note on metis and RPGs is the difference between the Intelligence and Education stats in Traveller.  Int in Mongoose Trav governs a huge number of apparently-unrelated skills, including Deception, Gunnery, training animals, haggling, hacking, gambling, diagnosing mechanical and medical issues, noticing the unusual, dealing in contraband, et cetera.  While many of these areas do benefit from formal education in that particular skill, they are also all intensely variable based on local conditions.  It seems very plausible to me that Int in Traveller represents a general capability for accumulating metis, while Edu represents one's store of techne, book-learning and mathematical maturity.

A few notes on metis outside the RPG-context:
  • I suspect that what Musashi means by "the art of strategy" in the Book of Five Rings is essentially this general ability to acquire metis quickly.
  • One of the problems I deal with at work is computer-security education.  What I have observed is this: formal education will only get you to basic competence, and absurd amounts of practice is what separates the really good (fluent) hackers from people who can sort of muddle their way through.  Metis.  Some very sharp people take an order of magnitude less practice to get really good, but they still practice a ton.  Apprentice/mentor relations also help a lot.
  • Finally, as much as I hate leaving my apartment and doing things, many skills I want to be good at cannot be learned to a useful level by reading about them.

Wednesday, September 21, 2016

ACKS and Non-State Spaces, Wilderness Levels

A follow-up to this post, thinking more about forests, hills, marshes, and mountains as "non-state spaces".

One model for this operating within ACKS' existing terminology would be to 'downgrade' the civilization level of certain terrain types.  A forest within the 50-mile Ring of Civilization around a town might only be Borderlands instead of Civilized.  The raw/actual population density of the hex is still Civilized, but the amount of resources that can be extracted from it (and the amount of garrison that must be deployed to extract those resources) is on par with a Borderlands hex, because its occupants retain a good deal of autonomy and do their best to evade taxes.  "Agricultural investments" reduce the autonomy of this population and bring larger numbers of them under the state's eye, by clearing the forests in which they hide.

As a first-cut rule: forests, marshes, and hills reduce the effective degree of civilization in their hex by one; mountains and jungle reduce it by two (so even if they are adjacent to a town, they remain wilderness).  Hexes in the inner ring (which would be Civilized) use the Inhabited random encounter table, as their occupants are mostly human; hexes in the outer ring (which would be Borderlands) have a 50% chance to use the Inhabited table, and a 50% chance to use their typical terrain-based table.

You could even take it a step further and generalize to a sort of "wilderness level" for each hex, like the "dungeon level" number assigned to each section of a megadungeon.  Settled plains are wilderness level 0 - not wilderness.  Going further from town increases the wilderness level; at 50 miles out, +1, and at 75 miles out, +2.  Forest, hill, tundra, and desert hexes add +1 wilderness level, and jungles, swamps, mountains, glaciers, etc add +2 wilderness level.  Wilderness level determines the number of lairs in a hex, the frequency of encounter rolls, and the target number for encounter rolls.

Wilderness Level Name Lairs per hex Encounter roll every: Encounter throw
0 Civilized 0 Month ‘6+
1 Borderlands 1d3-1 Week ‘6+
2 Wilderness 1d4 Day ‘5+
3 Deep Wilderness 2d4 12 hours ‘5+
4 Unexplored 2d8 4 hours ‘4+

You could do more with this metric, of course - base number of families per hex, garrison costs, modifiers to rolls on the random encounter table (so that results of Men are less common in Unexplored, and results of Dragon are less common in Civilized), and maybe a clearer difficulty progression in terms of monster strength (like we have with Dungeon Levels).

(I suppose this would also be a fine time to increase the frequency of Civilized encounter rolls to once a week, because meeting merchants and knights and mid-level dudes you can hire as henchmen when you're out traveling in civilized lands is actually kind of fun)

One complication with this system is elven and dwarven domains, where you're never going to get much in the way of Widerness Level 0 hexes.  This could be because they're dying races in the Age of Man.  Or, one could modify dwarven and elven towns to use different terrain modifiers (so hills within 50 miles of a dwarven town are WL0).  But in the style of Dwarf Fortress, I think I prefer "if you step outside the front door of the vault, you might be trampled by a wild elephant".

Monday, September 19, 2016

Reflections on a Session: 17 Sept 16

Another stats post.
  • Time spent: ~5 hours
    • DMing: ~2.1 hours
    • Talking to players before session, Ethan chargen: 1.8 hours
    • Restocking depopulated parts of dungeon: 0.5 hours
    • Generating NPC stats: 0.5 hours
    • Encounter tables: 0.1 hours
  • No new areas mapped
  • ~3 rooms restocked
  • Dungeon areas explored in 2.1 hours of play:
    • 1 empty
    • 1 trap without treasure
    • 1 lair, fought, outflanked, fled
  • Game-time elapsed in dungeon: ~1 hour (6 turns)
    • Random encounters checked: 1
    • Random encounter checks missed: 2
    • Turns spent returning to exit from further point of exploration: 1
  • Party size: 10
    • Scarth, Mage 2
      • Aldo, Assassin 2 (KIA)
    • Dora, Explorer 3
      • Gertrude, War dog
    • Beardwin the Optimist, Craftpriest 2
      • Clever Paul (has low Int), Dwarven Delver 2? (Mortally wounded but retrieved, grudgingly loyal)
    • Brynja, Bladedancer 3
      • Binhildis, Paladin 1 (MIA)
    • ???, Paladin 2 (MIA)
      • Leitgardis, L0 normal woman (KIA)
  • Mortal wounds taken: 5
    • ??? the Paladin was first into the lair, surprised by a ratman and backstabbed to 0 HP.  Checked by Dr. Owl, knee damaged.  Left on the field during retreat and captured by ratmen.
    • Leitgardis dropped to -100% max HP while trying to carry Paladin out, left on the field during retreat.  Wounds checked by ratmen, both arms severed, bled to death, devoured.
    • Binhildis dropped to -1 HP while covering Leitgardis' retreat, left on the field.  Wounds checked by ratmen, gruesome scarring but 1HP, taken captive.
    • Aldo went into a building to avoid ratman javelins and/or retrieve the paladins, rolled a 1 on damage.  Cut down by five ratmen inside, abandoned during retreat.  Checked by ratmen, DOA, devoured.
    • Clever Paul followed Aldo in, missed his one shot, stabbed by ratmen.  Retrieved by Beardwin under cover of Sanctuary (first time we've seen this spell used).  Knee damaged, RL&L'd, now followed by an imp.
  • Loot recovered: None
    • Lost Boots of Elvenkind carried by Aldo
    • Lost Greatsword +3 carried by Also
    • Lost Potion of Heroism carried by Binhildis
    • Ended up spending 840 gp for RL&L, Cure Disease, and healing herbs.
  • Traps triggered: 1 (after discovery, but they were in a hurry)
  • XP from monsters: ~84 for ratmen killed
    • A net loss in XP for the party after casualties.
    • About averages out last session's excellent haul.
Rough session.  But they put a fair dent in the ratman lair, and now they know where it is.

I am happy with the level of tactical intelligence employed today; last session's man-spiders should've retreated instead of engaging the numerically-stronger party, and the Delirious Crusaders the party betrayed weren't exactly operating at full capability.  Ratmen retreated from the choke-point the party decided to hold, and circled back around to strike their flank and rear via alternate routes.  Given proximity of lair to dungeon entrance and frequency of adventuring parties, rapid prepared responses seem very reasonable.  When the ratmen came under fire from the Explorer, they retreated back out of LOS rather than just sitting in the open.  They could've popped back out to throw javelins at the party as they were hauling Paul the Clever's comatose form over a rope bridge, but decided not to risk more casualties.  The Explorer is probably a priority for them in future engagements (but AC7 is hard for 1HD monsters to deal with, and she is hard to surprise).

If I'd been applying lessons in combat psychology from Violence: A Micro-Sociological Theory, the ratmen who killed the paladins and Aldo should've gone into forward panic and continued to advance.

Important follow-on question: what is ratman ransom procedure?  Gold is nice and all, but you can't really buy safety.  Does it make sense for them to just hold the hostages as insurance against attack by the party?  Something to think about.