Building Bhakashal - The Tale of Arolian Jax
Years ago now I had the opportunity to play in a game of AD&D, which for me is pretty rare. Of course I rolled up an illusionist, Arolian Jax, and that I had, wait for it, 1 hp. My spell rolls were a bit better, Detect Invisibility, Fog Cloud and Phantasmal Force, I had a dagger, and no armor.
We set off to investigate a temple. I had played AD&D for years, I knew how the surprise rules worked, how ranged combat worked, how AC worked. I knew that I was profoundly screwed if I got into any kind of fight. But I wanted to play this character, I wanted to play an illusionist, and I never get to play. So I was going to make this work.
Now, when you know that any attack that hits is lethal to your PC, it changes the dynamic of the game significantly. There is no room for error, and bad luck will end you. I found that I started asking myself the same question as we adventured.
“What would I do if it were me?”
The main reason for this was that my PC had limited options, and was vulnerable. So it was less about what was on the character sheet and more about me. I didn’t have a viable melee attack, and if I got in there to attack I would likely die. So that was out. I had one spell per day, I took Phantasmal Force, but I was saving that for escape or to put pursuers off our scent.
What I discovered is this: that game, and the subsequent sessions with that PC, were some of the best I’ve ever played, full stop. It was thrilling, knowing that around every corner was death. It was tense, knowing that I had to negotiate rather than fight wherever possible. It required my full attention, as I had to take advantage of every aspect of the environment that I could, otherwise I could meet my end. I became completely immersed when I played that game, I was often in character, and in an almost constant dialogue with the ref asking questions.
I didn’t have “find traps” so I had to ask questions to determine if there were traps around. I had to poke the environment with a stick (I found a branch early on and carried it with me for this reason). I picked up extra equipment as soon as I could afford it, a flask of holy water was purchased with all of the spoils of an early victory, delayed me having the required gold to level up later, but it was totally worth it. I bought marbles to scatter behind me as I ran, flour to find invisible foes, and mistletoe to bargain with druids (an oppositional faction in the setting)
I couldn’t sit back and let others make decisions for me, as those decisions could be my death. So I started taking the lead, directing the action, and where I met resistance I would just get in there and do it myself. If the rest of the party was reluctant to enter the chamber of wuwu, I would go in. Party wasn’t sure what to do with the ring they found? I would try it on. Party wasn’t sure if the NPC could be trusted? I would negotiate and attempt to form an alliance with the NPC.
It was awesome. When my PC was at their most vulnerable I was the most present, it was the most immersive. And when I would finish a session all I could think was that I was lucky, but I also PLAYED WELL. Part of the reason my 1 hp ass was still in the game was that I was being smart and proactive. The DM wasn’t saving me, he rolled in the open and played more or less BTB, and I knew BTB, so I knew I was earning my victories.
The lesson I took from all of this is that a character who is not “precious” and does not have “plot armor” can give the game a whole new dimension of excitement and immersion. It fundamentally changed my understanding of the game. I had always wanted PCs who were optimized, as the game was so deadly. But playing a character this vulnerable was electrifying, and when we succeeded, I felt 10 feet tall.
Segway to my recent gaming. One of the rules that I have always used is that when your PC dies, you can bring in a new PC that is the same level as the group, or you can bring in a level 1 PC. I have had players look at me and say, “Why would anyone start off a new PC at 1st level?” And I get it, the rest of the party is rockin wild bonuses and items, so starting off at 1st feels like a kick in the teeth.
Several months ago one of my players took me up on it, he wanted to start off at 1st with his replacement PC. So he did. And damn if he didn’t do the same thing I did BITD, he came alive, became completely immersed in his PC. He had to play smart, he asked a lot more questions, it was amazing to see. And he loved the new PC. A first level fighter with an axe and crossbow, he revelled in the simplicity and directness of the PC. While everyone else was cross referencing their abilities and spells, he was burying his axe in things.
The last interesting vignette here happened in one of my after school games. The party was on a ship, and when they went ashore to explore an island they took 4 zero level lizard man sailors with them as muscle. The first (Reeg) was lost to a giant slug's acid, one (Meffa) was devoured alive by a cifal, and a third (Ataj) was crushed by a giant constrictor.
The fourth sailor, Forga, managed to survive through a combination of luck (random targeting of PCs by monsters didn’t pick him out) and good play, and as the players kind of took him on as the adventure unfolded. As the other sailors were slain, Forga’s survival became important to the group; they wanted him to succeed.
When he did succeed, he was a badass. All the players were talking about his survival, all of them thought he was special. They talked more about the blows he landed and the saves he made than anyone else’s exploits. The lesson here was the same as it was years ago with Arolian Jax, the risk, the danger, the lack of plot armor (HP are plot armor really), the limited options (cutlass, crossbow, no spells or magic items) all made it more exciting.
The lesson here, I think, is that risk creates immersion, it forces you to stop being lost in your character sheet and instead get lost in the character. You need to know what your character sees, smells, hears, etc. to be able to survive, you need to communicate with the ref to gather the information, you need to make decisions and move through the game environment as staying still can get you killed too!
One of the goals of Bhakashal is to bring back that edge of tension, that feeling that your end lurks around every corner, so you are drawn into the game in order for your PC to survive. It does this by capping HP, adding lasting damage effects and exhaustion to combat, and using described damage, so the players don’t get a running tally of their HP, instead damage to them is described. When you don’t know exactly how many HP you have left, it’s very much like when you are running around with 1HP, you know that the next fight you get into might be your last, describing damage leads to a similar impact.
There are many ways to achieve this kind of immersion, the threat of death is not the only one. Threat of serious consequence can work as well, or if you have a heavily invested group with deep role-play tendencies, you can get this kind of tension and immersion from leaning all the way into their backstories/themes so what they stand to lose is “worse than death”.
Figure out how to put some real risk and consequences into your game, not the small potatoes stuff, but real risk that requires smart and motivated game play to get around. And then make sure it is REAL, take away the plot armor, make it such that they really CAN lose that important thing their character treasures, make it so there is real risk involved. That means that sometimes the PC will lose, and if you have done a good job and they are immersed in the character then it will sting. Some refs pull back from that, make death optional and all that, but at the end of the day if you embrace risk it will pay your players back a thousandfold with an engaging, immersive play experience.
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