Ind of the Year - The Colors of Magic

On December 1st, there will be a nice bundle of small, indie itch RPGs from around the world called the Ind of the Year Bundle 2020 that includes The Colors of Magic, a little game I created.  

 

The Colors of Magic was a way to express my ideas about character-drive GMing in RPG form.  What does it do?

Strict Limits for the GM

When you create a character in The Colors of Magic, you create two beliefs and three NPCs you have a relationship with.  One is a villain on the scale of a typical campaign antagonist. When creating this villain, you also describe their lair and the sorts of beings they use as their minions.  Another is an influential ruler (can be anything from a thieves' guild leader to a queen).  The third is character you love, but where that relationship is imperfect.  

The GM then notes down all these things.  Why?  It's not just good practice:  The GM is not allowed to use any antagonists, NPCs, or settings that aren't connected to or implied by the stuff the players invented in character creation.  If the players invented a mysterious dragon, evil necromancer queen, and vampire prince, the GM is not allowed to make up a chained elder god antagonist without making it part of one of the player-created antagomists.  

The GM can still use their elder god idea, but it has to be tied to a player's antagonist, and the player's antagonist has to take precedence. Is the chained elder god the source of the necromancer queen's power?  Is the mysterious dragon the elder god, now escaped?

Beliefs are Character Growth

Characters in The Colors of Magic have two beliefs.  These support the character-driven GM approach, but I'm going to have to tell you more about the game's genre before continuing.  The Colors of Magic attempts to evoke an animated YA "cartoon wizards" fantasy, similar to Avatar, Dragon Prince, many 90s and 00s adventure cartoons, and tons of anime. YA fantasy novels are also central to the game's genre definition.  These stories tend to include a moral dimension - questions about maturity, bravery, responsibility, friendship, and trust.

Protagonist Characters (PCs) in The Colors of Magic have righteous beliefs that define the game's themes. Each belief is essentially true in the "moral physics" game world. (The Colors of Magic uses script change safety tools, so there are plenty of backstops against GMs and players using these beliefs in harmful ways.) The righteous belief expresses the game's "cartoon wizards" theme. 

If a character's righteous belief is "true friends are always there for each other" then anyone who is defined as a true friend will always be there for you, and anyone who ever lets you down is not a true friend. The GM's job is to give the PCs ample opportunities to decide who their true friends are and take risks for them.

The characters' wrongheaded beliefs define their character growth. Each character has a belief that is foolish, arrogant, cowardly, or immature. The GM's role is to push them to make mistakes and cause harm in pursuit of their wrongheaded belief, and then either admit their flaws, learn, and grow as a character or double down on their mistaken belief and fall.  Like the genre The Colors of Magic is inspired by, characters never really give up their wrongheaded belief. They are constantly tempted by it.  

If a player really believes their character has overcome their wrongheaded belief, the character arc is essentially over, though they can always take on a new one.  (I admit, I've never run a long enough campaign of The Colors of Magic that a character ever overcame their wrongheaded belief.  It seems ideal for 6-30 hour mini-campaigns, but it also works well as a one-shot.)

Zero Gamism

The Colors of Magic gets mechanics entirely out of the way.  Because the players of the game can always choose the outcome of any risk they take - never spending points or rolling dice - the GM's only ability to "challenge" the players is to challenge their characters and only their characters.  The player can decide their character succeeds without complication, succeeds with some extra benefit, succeeds with a minor complication, barely succeeds and suffers a significant complication, or suffers a serious calamity.  

Gamism is an old "Big Model" Forge-era term for the creative impulse of game challenge -- outthinking an opponent in a game.  It's often found in tactical combat games with initiative rolls, where you have to beat some monsters in combat without using too many resources or taking too much damage from them.  But it's also found in "storytelling" games about out-maneuvering dark conspirators in the court intrigues of secret vampire societies, conserving your bennies and fate points properly in pulp action RPGs, and choosing the best crew upgrade to make your scores in the dark more effective.  

Game challenge is fun, but as I was laser-focusing a game to show off character-driven GMing, I had to take it out.

Put it All Together

When you put the three aspects of The Colors of Magic together, you get to play a system that:

• Forces the GM to use settings, characters, and antagonists that the players care about, because they invented them and made them special to their character, and
• Urges GMs to stimulate the other players' creativity by challenging their characters' beliefs and relationships -- not their tactical game play skills.

You'd think it would be hard to GM The Colors of Magic and plan out adventures for it, tying in all the PCs' beliefs and relationships and stuff.  It's not!  I've included two tools to help make it a cinch.

The first tool is a printable GM Tracking Sheet - a table to write down all the PCs' magic, beliefs, and relationships in.  It's a single page, so you have everything you need to improvise right in front of you, ready at a glance.

The second is a set of three "mad lib" style fast adventure planners.  Once you've filled out the GM tracking sheet, if you're at a loss as to where to start, pick one of the fast adventure "mad libs" and fill it out.  Check out a preview of the first one!

Get the Game

Normally, The Colors of Magic is a little $3 game on itch, and you could click the link on this blog and go buy it now!  But there's a good chance you already did!  It was included in the enormous Bundle for Racial Justice and Equality in 2020. The folks who played it since getting it in that bundle gave it 4 stars, so it looks like they liked it.

If you missed out on that, you can also wait and get it as part of the Ind of the Year Bundle 2020 (opens in a new window), which will be released on itch on December 1st. (Since it's international, the launch is technically November 30th at 6pm my time, US Eastern Standard Time). 

The Ind of the Year Bundle 2020 includes dozens of indie games by creators from around the world, and the price is around 75% off the "cover price" cost of buying all the games individually.  So even if you already have The Colors of Magic, you can snag the bundle and still get a lot of cool games for a good discount.

How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love the Monster Manual

A Primer on How to Run 5e D&D

5e is a great RPG -- probably the best edition of D&D -- but it's not great at telling you how to ::looks at camera:: run a game.

A major challenge that new and experienced GMs alike stumble over is encounter design.

Encounter design is the art of setting up a discrete, relatively isolated conflict with NPCs or monsters.

Because the conflict in D&D is usually with NPCs or monsters, there's a high risk of a fight breaking out.  At least a third of D&D encounters featuring monsters or NPCs wind up in combat, and the system for challenge rating (CR) makes estimating how hard these battles will be very difficult.

Monsters within the same CR vary wildly in lethality.  Dragons and undead don't match other monsters at their level, for different, intentional reasons.  Worse, the math you're supposed to use to determine if your encounter is Easy, Medium, Hard, or Deadly is messy, challenging, and produces wild results.

Finally, 5e D&D assumes the party will be facing two or more encounters per short rest, and more than eight per long rest, so challenge ratings are averaged out between encounter #1 and encounter #8, when we all know that the PCs have an easier time when they're full on resources than when they're down to their last spell.  Since most DMs don't create time pressure plot that demands the party fight through eight encounters a day, that assumption is broken.  It's a mess!

But that's OK.

Breathe!

You're going to be fine.

Here's why: I'm going to tell you how to GM 5e D&D without freaking out about challenge rating.

1. Encounter stakes should almost never be "kill or be killed"
2. Have "encounters" not "fights"
3. Don't make running away hard
4. Warn them about deadly foes (it's OK!)
5. Learn how to make easy encounters scary
6. Threaten things they care about, OTHER than their hp or gp
7. Start each PC turn with stakes narration

1. Encounter stakes should almost never be "kill or be killed"

Source: Pexels

It takes an enormous, personal hatred for someone to try to murder another person, at risk to their own life.  That's even true for non-sapient creatures like snakes or tigers.  A rattlesnake might kill, but only in self defense or to hunt.  It will run away and give warning before it strikes an attacker, and it will flee prey that turns out to be able to fight back.  A tiger might kill a human for the cruel sport of it, but if the tiger's life is in danger, it will run away.  People are even more thoughtful about killing each other.  Even serial killers, terrorists, and assassins avoid fighting to the death except in very specific circumstances. 

If all you use are the D&D equivalents of serial killers, terrorists, and assassins, the horror of their single-minded violence will get old, fast.  Most encounters in your adventure should be about things that one or both sides care about, and they should care about practical things connected to the antagonists' plans.  Serial killers, terrorists, and assassins care about bizarre fantasies, zealous ideologies, and political extremism.  They make great main antagonists, but to populate a dungeon, they need the fantasy equivalent of paid soldiers, faction loyalists, friends, patsies, and guard dogs.

Characters and monsters that work for your antagonist are rarely mindless killers.  And even the mindless killers have specific instructions.

Example:  Some goblins are holed up in a ruin on a ransom scheme.  They're trying to get rich trading a wealthy captive for a lot of gold.  If adventurers show up to rescue their captive, the goblins will try to chase the adventurers off; but those goblins won't die for a cut of the ransom!  That's insane!  Goblins aren't that stupid.

Example:  A necromancer has animated some skeletons to guard the crypt where she prepares the dark ritual.  She has tasked them to stay in the antechamber and then to kill any living being that enters it other than her.  PCs can split up and have a fast Rogue attack the skeletons and draw them away, or shout past them to get the necromancer to come out.

This tip is all about what the antagonists care about.  But sometimes GMs need to frame encounter stakes around what the PCs care about - see #6.

2. Have "encounters" not "fights"

When you prep your adventure, you might be tempted to think "for this fight, we'll have three bugbears."  Stop!  How do you know it's a fight?

When you're GMing, don't push to roll initiative.  Bugbears don't spend all day laying in wait, hoping some adventurer stumbles upon them.  Unless the bugbears are specifically ordered to prepare ambush (an unusual thing to do, unless there's an immediate reason), they will be acting normally.  Describe what the PCs encounter, then ask "what do you do?"  Sometimes someone will say "I charge the nearest bugbear!  Leeeeerooooy Jenkins!"

But since fights drain their resources, the PCs are more likely to try a different, smarter approach first.  You can frame that approach as hard as you want, because failing the Stealth or Deception check probably will lead to a fight.

3. Don't make running away hard

There are no less than three different systems for retreating in 5e D&D.

1. You can use the combat rules, stay in initiative, and have the players declare Disengage actions and movement to escape their enemies.  
2. You can use the optional chase rules in the DMG.  
3. Or you can narrate the result of a PC action, without using dice.  All three of those are "rules as written" ways to handle retreat.

The chase rules are pretty good.  They're a fun mechanical way to resolve a chase, which is what a retreat is if the enemy wants to pursue the PCs.  But see tip #1 - if the monsters' goal is to chase off the PCs, they win if the PCs run away. They don't have to run them down and slaughter them!

Narrating the retreat is even better:  You look at the encounter stakes (see #1 and #6) and decide what happens if the PCs forfeit by running away.  Then you narrate the result and make some notes as to what's happened while the PCs fled.

The combat system, however, is lethal.  If the PCs know the fight is too hard, staying in initiative will probably kill them and the players know it.

Example:  The PCs have to choose between Move and Dash (and eat an opportunity attack) or Disengage and Move.  If they Move and Dash, the enemy can Move and Dash and continue getting free opportunity attacks, unless the enemy is slower than them.  If they Disengage and Dash, the enemy can move and take an Action against them every turn.  Unless the PCs have faster movement speed than the monsters, retreat is suicidal.

So tell your players that your official DM policy is never to force them to use the combat system to retreat.

"Here's my policy:  If you all agree to retreat, we will drop out of initiative and either narrate the retreat or use the chase rules in the DMG.  This means retreating is a lot easier for you."

If you do that, the players will know they can run away, and so will you.  But they won't run away unless they know they're out-gunned.  So...

4. Warn them about deadly foes (it's OK!)

In real life, there is no animal that cannot be killed by a reasonably fit "first level" person with chain mail and a spear.  A "10 in every stat" human with no special combat training can kill a tiger or a hippo or a grizzly bear if they've got a spear and chain mail armor.

The "classes and levels" system of D&D introduces "high level" threats that no mere mortal can defeat.  A Commoner with chain mail and a spear has effectively zero chance to defeat an Adult Red Dragon -- or even a Dire Wolf.

Well sure, that's just how D&D is, right?

You should feel comfortable warning your players about deadly foes. Gary Gygax was! In original Dungeons and Dragons, the depth in the dungeon was the challenge level! Every time you went down a level, the monsters got harder. You knew you were facing bigger risks if you were at Dungeon Level 6. And if you were Character Level 2, that was a reason for caution. Why should the 5th edition be MORE antagonistic and secretive than the first? Just tell them when a fight is Deadly (according to the DMG's rules).

Example:  A level 1 PCs might attack an assassin, not knowing that the assassin is the Assassin from the Monster Manual -- a CR 8 foe with 78 hit points.  She can outright kill most level 1 PCs with a single blow.  She can singlehandedly "TPK" a level 1 party in as little as two rounds.  But how would your players know that? You. You need to communicate that.

You need to make it clear to the players, out of character, that this CR 8 Assassin is way out of their league, because it is not realistic that they could all beat on an assassin with greataxes and spells for twelve seconds and have approaching zero chance of killing her.

Then, ask them how they know this information, in character.

"Hey folks, OOC, this is a CR 8 foe with more hit points than you have combined, and she can do 40 damage per attack with multiple attacks.  Engage at your own risk.  How do your characters know that?"

You recruit the players to help create an in-game justification for why they know the assassin is too deadly an Assassin for them to fight head-on.  That way they have buy-in, which supports verisimilitude:  If they come up with an answer, the answer will seem more plausible to them.

If the players (A) know how hard the foe is, and (B) they know you won't make them use the combat system to retreat, then (C) they won't feel forced to fight for their lives against a foe they can't handle.

But both A and B are necessary for C.

5. Learn how to make easy encounters scary

Sometimes the story calls for an easy encounter.  Sometimes you thought the encounter was going to be hard, and it turns out it wasn't.  No biggie!  Learn how to make encounters seem harder than they are, then always use those tricks.

Let's face it -- your PCs will probably have one or two hundred fights in a long D&D campaign.  That's a lot of fights!

Even if you're running a "killer" campaign, only 10% of them are going to be literally lethal.  And most of us aren't running "killer" campaigns (it's not a popular style).  So if 90% or more (probably far more) of the fights aren't really a threat, your job is to make them feel scary.

This is an imagination game.  Everything is make believe.  If a monster feels scary, it is scary.

There are several ways to do that.

1. Act! This is where you try to get all Matt Mercer on your players.  Menace them.  But maybe you suck at acting.  (That's OK, so do I.)  Luckily there are a few other ways to make monsters scarier than they deserve.
2. The second way is to describe the monsters as way scarier than their stats deserve.  Part of this is revealing as little as possible about monsters' stats before battle begins.  And when you do give away the monsters' secrets, reveal their weaknesses before you reveal their strengths.  That sounds backwards, but it's not!  Something that's unknown is way scarier than something you can predict and prepare for.  
3. When you describe the battle, do the opposite:  Never describe a PC OR a monster as weak or fumbling.  If a PC misses, it was because the monster was tough, quick, or skilled.  If a monster misses, it's because the PC was tough, quick, or skilled.  And don't make a hit draw serious blood until the monster is low on hit points - below half at least.  (This is the book's official advice on describing damage.)
4. The last way is Tip #6...

6. Threaten things they care about, other than their hp or gp

Remember, even a "killer DM" is only going to kill a PC off once every couple of sessions, and you're probably not a killer DM.  So you can't try to kill the PCs every encounter, or they might notice that you're not killing them.  Then things will get boring.

So threaten things the PCs care about, other than their hit points.  Threaten things that you're willing to follow through on.

Each encounter, the opposition has a goal, and that goal should very rarely be "kill all the PCs or die trying" (see Tip #1).  Choose goals for the antagonists so that if they achieve their goal, it will make the story more interesting. The most interesting goals your villains might have are goals that directly threaten things your PCs care about.

Here's a list of encounter stakes to use as inspiration, split into ascending tiers of severity.  Your monsters can win most of those stakes, and it doesn't end the campaign like "kill or be killed" stakes do.  That list has fifty encounter stakes options, none of which is "slaughter all the PCs or die trying."

But take it a step farther:  What are the monsters after?  Whatever it is, make it personal.

That's what I mean by threaten something they care about other than their hp or gp.  The thing that drives your plot is your antagonist's plan.  Make your antagonist's plan directly conflict with things each PC cares about.

If your antagonist's plan is in direct conflict with things the PCs care about, you're running a "character-driven campaign."  If not, your campaign is not driven by the things the characters care about.  Sure, they might be saving the world -- we all care about the world -- but it's not personal.  If you want the easiest way to run a character-driven campaign, here's how to do it.

In a character-driven campaign, you set the antagonists' goals in conflict with things the PCs care about.  Look at the PCs' backstories (and in a 5e D&D game, check their Personal Characteristics) for this information.

Example: Let's go back to the goblin sentry example, from Tip #1.  The goblins care about guarding a ruin where they're holding a hostage they're trying to ransom.  In a non-character-driven campaign, the PCs are hired to go save the hostage with the promise of a reward.  The hostage's life isn't worth the ransom (or the goblins miscalculated and asked for too much), so they've offered the PCs a lower amount to rescue them.  Losing the fight or running away means the PCs' reward is in doubt.  But it's just gold.

In a character-driven campaign, you play off of their passions.  The Criminal wants to become the greatest thief in the world.  At the start of the adventure, a character-driven GM insinuates that the hostage is a priest who can help spread word of their prowess.  The Acolyte cleric owes her life to this priest who took her in when her parents died.  The Soldier's honor is her life.  She promised the Acolyte cleric that she would save the priest, so retreating from this fight is dishonorable.  The warlock is wanted for a robbery from his days as an Urchin, and the character-driven GM has insinuated that the priest's influence could get him a pardon, if he can keep his dark patron a secret.

All of a sudden, fights are exciting not because of the chess game tactical challenges, but because something the characters care about is on the line.  You can screw up encounter design and wind up with a fight too easy or a fight too hard, and it doesn't matter, because what makes it exciting is that the PCs' actions could get this priest killed.

7. Start each PC turn with stakes narration

The last problem with the CR system is that the rules assume an adventuring day with a few encounters per short rest, and more than eight encounters per long rest (fewer at lower levels, and more at the highest levels, of course).

However, in practice, having ten battles a day is not how most DMs run D&D.  The only way to do that is to create a plot with time pressure, and then put ten violent monsters in the way of achieving the plot before the clock runs out.  That can be fun, but you don't want to do it every single time.

Consequently, character classes designed to make players carefully ration a dozen spells over the course of a day usually kick ass most days, because most days, the DM doesn't actually make you face more than a few encounters.

The reason it's a problem at all that the Wizard spells and the Rogue just has the same old sneak attack is that the Wizard's highest level spells are game changers that are supposed to be limited to once every handful of encounters.  They steal the spotlight.  If the Wizard doesn't have to ration their best spells, they can use their best spells every turn.  So how do you balance for this inherent problem without becoming a master encounter (and adventure!) designer?

When the daily-refresh classes don't have to budget their resources, every encounter goes like this:  The fighter and rogue did some damage, and then the Wizard cast a big spell that turned the tide, leaving the fighter and rogue to mop up what little opposition was left.

So you don't have to give Rogues powerful spells.  You have to make every PC turn feel like a critical moment in the story.  The way you do that is to start each and every PC turn with narration that focuses the action on the current stakes, in terms of that character's perspective.  Here's a thread on how to do that in detail.

RPG Combat Gamerunning Thread

Today let's talk about a technique I learned to use to make combat more exciting.
1/

— Jon Lemich (@RunAGame) September 13, 2018

In this way, the DM can make the cleric's 4 hit point Healing Word or the Rogue's missed attack into a critical moment in the story.  Sure, the Wizard's Fireball and the fighter's big Action Surge turn are what really turned the tide, but look at this example:

DM:  Rogue, two hobgoblins are attacking Bard while Ragnar is poised to finish off the direwolf.  You can finish off the direwolf pretty safely, or go take some heat off of Bard before the hobgoblins kill him.  What do you do?
Rogue: Ug, my Flaw is I don't take risks for others, but I can't just let him go down.  I go try to take out one of the hobgoblins.  Crud.  Eight.  I miss.
DM: Hobgoblins' turn.  The one you attacked swings at you...  19 to hit for 13 damage.
Rogue: Ouch!  Down to three hit points!
DM:  You have a big gash on your sword arm.  Blood is running down your hand, dripping all over the ground.
Rogue:  I think, 'That's what I get for sticking my neck out for people!'

The DM framed the turn as a choice between self-preservation and heroism.  The Rogue acted against his nature to try to help someone, and suffered for it.  It's a character-defining moment, and also a relationship-defining moment for Bard and Rogue.  I mean, Rogue tried, right?

Summary

1. Encounter stakes should almost never be "kill or be killed"

• Problem: Need more realistic antagonists, are you willing to follow through on TPK threatening encounters?
• Skill: Creative stakes setting, worldbuilding

2. Have "encounters" not "fights"

• Problem: Jumping to combat too quickly, 
• Skill: Scaffolding encounters with multiple routes to success, improvising to accommodate creative actions

3. Don't make running away hard

• Problem: retreating in D&D while staying in initiative is suicide
• Skill: Good communication, setting table expectations, rules awareness

4. Warn them about deadly foes (it's OK!)

• Problem: CR is artificial
• Skill: Good communication, trust building

5. Learn how to make easy encounters scary

• Problem: Too-easy encounters can be dull
• Skill: Acting, description, and stakes setting

6. Threaten things they care about, other than their hp and gp

• Problem: Story is more exciting if it's about the characters - less exciting if they're just along for the ride
• Skill: Stakes setting, worldbuilding, character-driven GMing

7. Start each PC turn with stakes narration

• Problem: D&D is designed and balanced for long adventuring days, and we don't want to be forced into those, so classes get unbalanced
• Skill: Put little story decisions in every turn, when you can, to distribute spotlight more fairly

One final example 
(Regular readers know how I love examples!)

Let's say you make a mistake, and you make the goblin sentries too hard.  You use two hobgoblins against a level 1 party.  Hobgoblins happen to be way too dangerous for their 1/2 challenge rating; thanks to their 18 AC and their Martial Advantage trait, two hobgoblins (not a Deadly encounter, per the rules) can kill two first level PCs in the first round of a fight if the dice go even a little in their favor.  Here's an outcome set for all possible outcomes of the too-hard encounter:

• Clear victory (unlikely):  All the PCs survive, and they kill the hobgoblins and save the priest.  A happy reunion!
• Mixed victory:  The PCs kill the hobgoblins and save the priest, but one or more of them sacrificed their lives for this.  If the goal was just to get some gold, this is a lame outcome.  If the PCs saved the priest, but the Acolyte sacrificed her life to save a man who she owes everything to, it makes a tragic, but fitting end.
• Mixed defeat:  The PCs killed one of the hobgoblins, but had to retreat.  Now they have to find out if the hobgoblins killed the hostage or just moved them somewhere more secure.
• Defeat (unlikely):  The PCs failed to save the priest, and some of them died in the fight.  The survivor(s) escaped, and will have to recruit new allies and make another rescue attempt before the hobgoblins give up and kill the hostage.
• Close TPK (incredibly unlikely):  For the encounter to end in a "total party kill," the last PC standing would have to have had enough chance to win on their last action that they thought it was better to take one last shot than to retreat.  The dice didn't go their way, they didn't beat the last hobgoblin, and they got killed by an unlucky roll.  Even this outcome is exciting, because of how close it was and how personal it was.  Also, this situation is very unlikely:  In our example, the Acolyte might die for the priest, but the Criminal and the Warlock won't die for their goals.  And the Soldier may die for their honor, but might decide it's better to retreat and try a different approach than throw their life away.
• Brutal TPK (impossible):  If the PCs' attacks are easily rebuffed and they're getting slaughtered, thanks to #3, above, they could just retreat.  There's no reason to stick around:  The hobgoblins' goal is only to guard their hostage.  There could be other chances to mount a rescue.  There's no reason for all the PCs to die here.  A brutal TPK is not possible.

See?  I just described how a lethal fight is all-but-guaranteed not to end in a TPK if you follow my advice.  You don't even have to figure out how hard the fight is.  You don't need to know that the hobgoblins are way too deadly for CR 1/2.  You don't even need to use Kobold Fight Club or a CR calculation system.  You just pick some monsters and roll with it.  The safeguards you have in place keep things fun.

Ye Olde Magic Item Shoppe

Let's say you're running a fantasy RPG, and you want a more serious fantasy tone.  The first thing you want to eliminate is "Ye Olde Magic Item Shoppe."  It's a silly thing that seems to come from video games, not fantasy literature or historical epics.  But how?

The obvious answer is to tell the players "there aren't magic item shops in this setting."  The problem with that approach is that the players will eventually be dripping with magic items they don't care about, and yearning for magic items that they still haven't found.

They'll look for low-key magic item shops.  "Hey, can we 'donate' these +1 maces and axes to the high temple of the sun god and ask the priests to forge me a magic glaive?"

So the second most obvious answer is to make magic item shops that don't resemble a JRPG or MMO.  You create a red dragon that collects magic items, and will buy them from adventurers for gold (which she extorts from kings and merchants).  You create a shadowy wizard that will sell knowledge (spells and scrolls) for gold to fund his secret experiments.  You create a good-aligned temple that will forge blessed weapons and armor for those who demonstrate their faith (with deeds, yes, but also coin).

But you still haven't eliminated "Ye Olde Magic Item Shoppe."  You've dressed it up to look a little bit like fantasy fiction, but it's still a transaction of magic items for coin and vice versa.  Because the player activity is functionally the same (tallying coins, asking for prices, deciding how much to spend and what to sell), the fictional activity will largely feel the same.

The best solution

The only way to eliminate "Ye Olde Magic Item Shoppe" is to give the PCs the magic items they want, and only the magic items they want.

The only reason a PC would want to sell a magic item is if that magic item isn't useful to them.  That happens when you give out magic items because you wanted to equip your villains with them (but didn't think of the items' utility for the PCs) and when you give out magic items based on the random tables in the DMG.  The only reason they would want to buy magic items is if they've got a lot of gold (happens a lot in 5e) and feel like the items they want should be available.  Combined, the two factors really make players seek out magic item sellers:

"We have two +1 maces, a +2 sickle of evil, and a +1 heavy crossbow that none of us are using, and I still don't have a magic greatsword yet.  Let's sell these useless things and get the +1 greatsword I need. +1 weapons seem common enough that someone must be selling one, or maybe I can get someone to forge me one."

Giving the PCs exactly what they want doesn't mean you have to be generous with magic items.  You can be more stingy than usual with this technique and the players will probably be happier.  Here's how you do it...

First, call for a wish list

Ask the players to submit a "wish list" of five magic items they want.  Let them flip through the books like kids making their Christmas wish list from the toy store catalog.  They can even make up their own magic items.  If your campaign is going to be shorter or longer, ask for shorter or longer wish lists.  A three-year level 1-20 campaign might call for six or seven per PC.  A 10-session short campaign might only call for two per PC.  If you're running an intentionally low-powered, low-level, short campaign, you might also want to limit the players to Uncommon and Rare items.

When you call for the wish list, show your players this article, so it's clear what you're doing.  If you're transparent with the process, they can be more strategic with their choices.  For instance, they might see value in asking for a Rare Flametongue greatsword and a Legendary Vorpal greatsword, so they get a middling-powered magic weapon early, and get an upgrade to a super-powered one much later in the game.  They can always give the Flametongue to a henchman or beloved NPC.

From that, make a magic item treasure table

Combine the lists into one "treasure table" and arrange them from weakest to strongest.  Always consider defense items to be stronger than offense items, because offense items are more fun (they speed up play and provide wow moments).  This makes a list of 15-30 items.

Using the table, decide on some plot items

Some of your magic items shouldn't be random.  Make plots and villains to contain the best items from the combined treasure table. Cross them off as you place them in the world. This probably cuts your list down to 10-20. The Lich King should wield the Staff of the Magi your wizard PC wished for.  The Glabrezu should have the Holy Avenger sealed away in a trapped vault.  The real nice Ioun Stone should be rumored to be at the top of the ruined tower of the mad mage, deep in a troll-haunted swamp. Don't write these adventures ahead of time. Just make sure to tell the PCs the legends of where they can find these items.  It'll motivate them.

Then just use your table

When you give out treasure and a magic item should be in the hoard, choose or roll from the list.  If you roll from the list, only roll 1d6 and count up from the bottom, skipping crossed off items, of course.  When you give an item out, cross it off.  The reason to use a smaller die than the list is that you want to give out more modest items first.  It's only fair:  PCs with more modest wishes get to use less powerful items longer (since they get them earlier).  Plus, you don't want to drop a Staff of the Magi at level 1.  I like to give out fewer, more powerful items, but that's going too far!


Tip:  Since you're giving out fewer permanent magic items, consider giving out more consumable items -- especially consumable restorative magic items, like potions of healing, Keoghtom's ointment, potions of neutralize poison, scrolls of remove curse, and so forth.  When you're giving out gold and mundane items, here's an inspirational, curated list of select interesting mundane items by value for you that will help give you a little inspiration.

Is "Ye Olde Magic Item Shoppe" really a problem?

Not always.

I've claimed that D&D is its own subgenre of fantasy.  It's a goofy power fantasy, and it can be a lot of fun to play up the... D&D-ness of it, even if you're playing Dungeon World or 13th Age or Pathfinder.  So much of the D&D system intrudes into the fiction of the game world that D&D almost has to be its own genre.  Daily refresh abilities, magic item tables, trap mechanics, Vancian casting, and encumbrance (and therefore henchmen) are system artifacts that create in-fiction shadows that have, over time, made their own culture -- their own fictional genre.  And that's fun because it creates a culture and genre that's unique to our hobby.

This concept ties to the idea of "tone" or "mood" in your game.  Setting the game's tone is a very important "session zero" task, and it's important for the whole group to work together to maintain the tone.  The GM's role in setting and maintaining the tone is even more important.  If you create a "Ye Olde Magic Item Shoppe" situation, you're saying something about the tone, and what you're saying is tied to images of moogles and Azeroth, and that can be awesome or jarring, depending on the tone you're going for.

Image Credit: CC0 license from pixabay.com via pexels.com

So when you're running a very... "D&D" game (like I am right now), play it up!  Make fun magic item shops run by crafty dragons and mad priests and shady wizards and extra-planar entrepreneurs.

But you might want to run a D&D game that's more like fantasy novels, movies, and TV shows.  And that's fine too.  That's when you need to use the techniques above to eliminate magic item shops.

How to Run an RPG Campaign in 5 Easy Steps

If you want to run an RPG campaign, you ought to do it right.  Here's a simple five step process to run a game that your players will never forget.

Five Steps to a Memorable RPG Campaign

Step 1: The Pitch
Pitch a campaign idea with enough detail that everyone understands the vision (genre, tone, themes, setting, conflicts, main action). This is a conversation, not a dictum - it's their game, too. Make sure everyone is on the same page, you included. (Here's a really old article from this site on making a campaign pitch.)

Step 2: Character Creation
Accept characters that fit the table's shared vision (see #1), and can work together.  (It's probably best if they already know each other).  Make sure all the characters have things they're intensely passionate about - people, places, things, goals, groups - that fit the campaign vision.  Many RPGs have passions baked into character creation. GUMSHOE games ask you to list your sources of stability. 5th edition D&D asks you to describe your Ideal and a personal Bond, etc.  Work within this structure where you can, but make sure to push players to give you real good passions - not cop outs.

Step 3: World Building
Sketch the world roughly with lots of blanks. In it, create major antagonists that have goals that brutally conflict with the PCs' passions (see #2). Give your antagonists stuff: People (henchmen, goons), places (dungeons, cities, lairs, etc.), things (artifacts, rituals), groups (titles, influence, cults, factions), and knowledge (of the PCs, of the future, of the past, of how things work).

Step 4: Starting Setting
Fill in the space close to the PCs in much more detail. This is your "starting village" -- your Tatooine or Emond's Field. Even though I said "much more detail," you should still leave some blanks to fill in as you go. As you fill in, fill it with the stuff the PCs care about (see #2) and the antagonists' stuff (see #3) - especially at least one henchman.

Step 5: Inciting Event
Decide what the local henchmen are up to that will damage the nearby stuff the PCs care about (see #4) and what happens to tip the PCs off to what's going on in time to do something about it (inciting event). Drop the inciting event, then just respond to their actions.

If you followed these steps, the PCs should care intensely about what's going on, because what's going on directly conflicts with their passions. There's no need for railroad tracks - the game is more of a fox hunt than a railroad. The PCs will drive the story, because they told you what they cared about and you made them a game about it.

As they follow leads from the local henchmen to the other stuff your main antagonists have, you just introduce them to more and more henchmen and more and more locations and villain goals (that continue being toxic to the PCs' passions).  The villain goals might shift, too, and get even more personal.  Where "corrupt the church of Ilmater" was their goal before, "Torment [the PC] Jakiri the Cleric of Ilmater by kidnapping the ones he loves" is even more personal.

Not all RPGs work the same way, though.  Here are some important caveats...

RPGs with Structured Adventures 
Many RPGs have internal structures that get in the way of this basic process.  These are RPGs where the game creates a conflict that the game designer or GM pushes on the PCs, rather than one the PCs investigate on their own initiative.  There's nothing wrong with that -- these are fun games. But because the structure is somewhat set ahead of time, we have to add another step.

For instance, in Monster of the Week, you're creating one-off threats for most sessions.  (It's literally in the title.)  In Night's Black Agents, the PCs are burned spies uncovering a conspiracy of vampires.  In Shadowrun, you're often doing black ops jobs for corporations through cutouts called Mr. Johnsons, rather than deciding what passions to pursue, yourselves. These conflicts come baked into their respective games. 

Here's how you deal with that:

First, be honest with your players in step #1.  Explain that they'll be playing Shadowrun (or whatever), and the structure of the game involves getting hired for covert black ops corporate espionage and sabotage jobs (or whatever). 

After that, make sure that you still get a lot of passions in step #2.  Step #3 and #4 are the same. 

Next, step #5 is a little different.  In step #5, you follow the game's baked in structure for an adventure.  You have a werewolf attack the suburban high school; have Mr. Johnson hire the team to steal a briefcase from some corporate scientist; or have the agents investigate a spy that was murdered outside a Bucharest blood bank. Whatever.  You do the thing that the game wants you to do.  But make sure the bad guys know who hurt them.  That's crucial for step #6.

Step 6 (for Structured Adventure RPGs): Now it's Personal!
The first time the PCs win a victory against the antagonists, the antagonists strike back.  They take their revenge on the PCs' passions.  The werewolf moot burns down the Chosen's family's home.  The corp that lost their briefcase sends security goons to "question" the Street Samurai's favorite bartender (he didn't talk, but it cost him three teeth and an eye). The vampires frame the agents for the murder of one of their own beloved contacts.

As you're running the game, continue to use the PCs' passions as stakes whenever you can.  Offer them opportunities to achieve or protect or improve things they care about, and set threats against them.  Make everything as personal as you can.


Character Death and New PCs
If a PC dies in your campaign, their passions die with them.  When the player makes a new character, they come in with all new passions.  How should you handle that?

First of all, reserve character death for only the most extreme circumstances. Because you know the PCs all have strong passions, there are literally fates worse than death in your game.  Use those before you get to character death. 

But even if nobody dies, there are still times new characters appear in your campaigns.  What if someone new joins the group halfway in? 

When you get a new PC, treat it like they're playing a module -- see below.  Tell them all the conflicts going on already and ask them to make a character that feels passionately about one or more of the things at stake in the existing conflicts.  The new PC can have other passions as well, of course.  Work up a new villain plan and new villain stuff (henchmen, prophecies, etc.) that targets those.


An Additional Note on Modules
When you're running a campaign from a module, step #1 is very important.  You need to "all but spoil" a lot of the campaign for your players, so that they can make characters that care about things in it. 

If you're running Curse of Strahd, you need to read the whole thing and help the players make characters that care about the themes and goals they'll eventually have in there.  One should be a vampire hunter.  One should have a sister or wife who looks like the twin to Ireena.  Another should be a priest of Lathander, the Morninglord (in a setting where the sun never shines).  And so forth.

(Here's another really old article from this site on a technique for sowing plot hooks among the PCs.)

Shopping and Haggling

Buying off the rack goods is an artifact of the industrial and post-industrial era.  In medieval and renaissance society, even when a shop kept a stock of goods, there was rarely a "sticker price."  Haggling was the norm.

Haggling is also an interesting opportunity for roleplay, but it takes a long time, and can be frustrating for GMs -- and players -- who aren't any good at haggling.  On the other hand, using a simple die roll for haggling opens up problems of system mastery and waives the opportunity for roleplay.

Haggling can be used to show a character's reputation in town:  In Casablanca, a lace seller is trying to rip off foreign newcomer Ilsa, who is clearly jaded to this kind of chicanery.  Then Rick arrives, at which point, he drops the price to less than half and keeps dropping it as he discovers that Rick cares for her.  It highlights the relationship between Casablanca and newcomers (profiting at their expense); Casablanca and Rick (Rick's reputation is golden); Rick and Ilsa (fraught, at that moment); and Ilsa and foreign cities (she's no bumpkin).

So we need a system that's quick, not overly-detailed, and has story inputs and outputs.  And because there are several great fantasy RPGs, it should be mostly system neutral.  Finally, it should be something that doesn't require changing any existing rules.  In this sort of situation, I like to very carefully frame a simple skill check, and then use it over and over.


A Shopping Rule

If your system uses modifiers or varying difficulties, set the difficulty based on the character's reputation in town and the experience and exclusivity of the shopkeeper.

• A reputation of "desperate" or "despised"; or an exclusive, appointments-only shopkeeper should make the negotiation very hard.
• A reputation of "distrusted" or "newcomer"; or a high-end, veteran, or bespoke shopkeeper should make it hard.  
• A reputation of "familiar" and "neutral"; or a moderately experienced merchant would be moderate difficulty.  
• A reputation of "well-liked" or "hero"; or a naive yokel would make it easy.   

What skill do you roll?

• Old school D&D (2e and before, or most OSR stuff):  Charisma
• Pathfinder, most d20 spin-offs, or 3e: Diplomacy
• D&D 4e or 5e:  Persuasion
• 13th Age:  An appropriate background
• Dungeon World: +Cha (and there are no difficulty modifiers in Dungeon World)

Note that you can use this haggling rule any time the PCs go shopping, even if they don't intend to haggle, because it generate some good story outcomes.


Shopping Stakes Frame

Name the seller(s) or buyer(s) and make the die roll.  On a success, let the player choose two.  On a failure, let the player choose one.

• You get an extra 10% discount/profit or they throw in something (of the DM's choice) for free.
• The interaction doesn't attract attention.
• The process doesn't take a lot of time.

Guidance for GMs

The options above follow the old corporate axiom: "Good, fast, or cheap:  Pick one.  If you're lucky, pick two."  That also makes it really easy to remember at the table.  Most people can remember the good/fast/cheap thing in a pinch.

The 10% discount is not going to break your game.  You'll notice that no matter how the PC rolls, they can choose to get a 10% discount.  Choosing the 10% discount is guaranteed to lead to some kind of plot outcome.

The PCs might decide it's more fun to get a random item thrown in for free instead of a simple 10% discount.  This gives you an opportunity!  You have three choices:  First, you can just give them something generally useful, to reward them for picking this option.  Second, you can give them something that you know will be very useful to them soon, even though they don't know that ("I got the alchemist to throw in this vial of antitoxin for free when I bought all these healing potions.  I hope we don't wind up needing it...").  Third, you can give them something that advances the story or starts a new story - stolen goods, a mysterious trinket (from the table in the 5e PHB, from a web trinket generator, or of your own invention), or an item that communicates story information ("This other mysterious traveler was in here just two days ago and sold me this silver goblet, but you can have it for being such a good customer."  "Wait, was she an elf, about this tall, with a scar on his cheek?"  "Yeah, stranger, do you know her?").

If the interaction attracts attention, make sure to have this come up later.  This means the interaction is notable, and makes a good story.  It's not every day a mysterious elf with a longbow comes into the village and buys one of the shepherd's mastiffs.  Maybe the PC had to impress the village wise woman to get her to sell them some healing potions.  If the PCs have enemies (and they really should!), their enemies can track their movements by following a trail of stories told by the common folk.  Also, if the PCs are trying to keep a low profile, attracting attention is obviously bad.  The attention attracted could also come from the seller or buyer regretting the deal.  Did the PCs buy the farmer's last sausages, and now they wish they hadn't sold them?  Did the PCs cajole the blacksmith into selling them chain mail too cheaply?  Did the PCs buy a diamond the jeweler had reserved for another client, and now they want it back?  The PCs' reputation might suffer, or their allies could start to get antsy.

If the process takes a lot of time, the PC might miss important details in town that could cause them trouble later.  It could also allow enemies to catch up, or coming dangers to get closer.  The most popular fantasy RPGs -- 13th Age, Pathfinder, and D&D -- rely on time pressure, so wasting a few hours shopping could cost the PCs, if they're up against the clock.

Don't Roll for Every Purchase

Save yourself the aggravation and only call for at most one roll, per PC, per session.  This system generates story outcomes with every roll, so it starts to get overwhelming if you have a lot of story outcomes generated one after the other.  If the players don't split the party, you can take care of it all with one or two shopping rolls.  

That is, if the PCs stop into Neverwinter and the wizard buys rubies, an arcane focus, fine robes, and ten days of rations, don't roll at each of the jeweler, the tailor, and the outfitter's shops - just roll once for the whole trip.  If the wizard gets a discount, apply it to all the items.  If they choose a freebie, you can give them one or more - your choice.  If they attract attention, at least one of their interactions draws attention, or something else they do while shopping is what draws attention.  If they take a long time, it's at least one of the purchases, and probably most of them, that cause the delay.

Don't use the Shopping Roll for Cons and Robbery

Some games (e.g. D&D, Pathfinder) have skills like Bluff, Deception, and Intimidation.  Using these skills is not bargaining.  It's cheating, conning, or robbing.  Using Deception or Intimidation to get a good price is a different system, with different outcomes (such as being wanted for a crime!).

Why should I use this?

The shopping roll achieves a lot of great things for you:

1. It takes care of the players' desire to haggle to get a discount, for the mechanical or procedural benefit of saving money.
2. It takes care of the players' desire to haggle for the story benefit of interacting with shopkeepers.  No matter how it goes, it forces the table to add some details to the interaction.
3. It generates story outcomes that you can turn into story hooks, to drive the plot forward.  It's the PCs' actions that generate the momentum, and players like that sense of agency:  Things happen in the world because of them (for better or worse).
4. It's great for pacing.  It happens right when the pace tends to slow down (coming back to town, doing some shopping), so you can use the die roll outcome to accelerate out of the usually-slow-paced shopping session.
5. It does all this quickly so you can get back to the action.

D&D Moves

DM:  “The mine ends in a room constructed of chiseled stone blocks, thirty feet square, with a floor of stone slabs.  There’s a 25 foot wall around the chamber, but it doesn’t go all the way to the ceiling of the cavern.  What do you do?”PC:  “Can I climb over the wall?”DM:  “Sure, make a DC 15 Athletics check.”PC:  “Oops.  I got a 12.”

This is the worst part of D&D.  If all you’ve ever played was D&D, you might not even realize it.  Here’s the relevant section from the official rules:  “...[a failure] means the character or monster makes no progress toward the objective or makes progress combined with a setback determined by the DM.”  

That’s not very good guidance for DMs.  There are just two options given to DMs.  One of them is good (progress combined with a setback), and the other is terrible (makes no progress).  Not progressing is boring.  The player will just try again, effectively wasting table time.  There needs to be more meat to the failure guidelines.  That’s what this article gives you.

Inspiration from Other Games

Apocalypse World and the other Powered By the Apocalypse games (such as Dungeon World) have a unique mechanic that really should not be unique.  They force the GM to apply stakes to every outcome of every single die roll.  Once I tried Dungeon World, I never went back.  I apply stakes to every outcome of every single die roll now, and it's improved my GM game considerably.

(If you use the link below to get a copy of Dungeon World, you'll give me like twenty cents, so that's neat, I guess?)

The way the Powered By the Apocalypse games do it is simple:  The GM has a list of Moves.  When the players look to the GM to see what happens or when they're sitting around doing nothing exciting, or when they fail a roll, the GM uses a Move.  The moves are the "failure" stakes for their rolls.  Every player move has success stakes, and the failure stakes are just that the GM will make a move, though sometimes they describe a bad outcome and also note that the GM will make a move.  

It's simple in concept, but taxing on your creativity to frame every roll so that there are stakes for every outcome. It requires frequent improvisation, even within published modules.  The Powered by the Apocalypse games help GMs out with that by giving them a list of moves; so every time the GM has to improvise, they can just scan the list and choose the one that seems most interesting at the time.  The list of moves helps you stay creative, even when you don't know what you should do. It's not limiting -- just about everything a GM would want to insert into play is covered by a Move. It just provides inspiration and advice.

The list of moves is a list of things that make the situation the characters are in more exciting.  Even when a move is subtle or off-screen, it should raise the tension.  Most of the moves add complications, conflicts, or cause problems.

So I said to myself, why not do that for D&D?

Below is a Moves "system" for Dungeons & Dragons DMs called DM Moves.  You make a DM move when a player character fails a roll or looks to you to see what happens.  The move should always follow a PC's actions, but it doesn't have to be something that happens to the PC directly.  There are examples under all the DM Moves, below, that show how the DM Moves work.

Like most of my writing about how to improve your D&D game, these DM Moves don’t modify any existing rules.  They just guide DMs toward what works best to engage players and generate fun.

When to Make a DM Move

When a character fails a check

PC: "I want to climb over this wall to see what's on the other side."  DM: "OK, make an Athletics check, DC 15."  PC: "I got a 7."  Make a DM Move.

When a the characters get new information

PC: "I want to look for information about the Red Wizards of Thay in the library."  DM: "Make a History check, DC 15." PC: "I got a 19."  Give the player the information they earned and make a DM Move.

When the players look to the DM to see what happens

PC: "I want to shoot my Fire Bolt cantrip at the cask of oil, hoping to cause an explosion."  Make a DM Move.

Unlike a Powered by the Apocalypse game such as Dungeon World, you won't need to use DM Moves in combat very often.  D&D Combat is a tactical game in and of itself.  It uses its own, separate, system.  Attack rolls, spells, class abilities, and saving throws have their own “within the combat system” stakes built in for failed rolls.  However, sometimes in combat, the players get new information or do something creative and look to the DM to see what happens.  Make a DM move then.

Failed Checks aren't Failed Actions

In the Powered by the Apocalypse games, failing a roll doesn't necessarily mean the player fails to do their intended action.  Remember, even the D&D rules allow two different possibilities:  The character “makes no progress toward the objective” or the character “makes progress combined with a setback determined by the GM.”  That can mean...

There's a Problem

The character fails to do their intended action because of the problem described by the DM Move you made.  A character doesn’t just fail to progress because of the tumbling of a mystic icosahedron in alternate dimension.  They fail because of a problem in the shared imagined space of the game world.   Because of the DM Move, the character has to try some other approach; or they have to deal with the complication the DM Move introduced before they can try again.  

Important note:  If you’re using an ability check to get past an obstacle preventing the PCs from getting to more interesting parts of the adventure, use “Another Door Opens” or “Success with Consequences” instead.

Another Door Opens

The character fails to do their intended action, but your DM Move gives them an opportunity to achieve their goal another way.  Sometimes it's an opportunity that draws them into doing something more exciting, dangerous, interesting, or dramatic.  Sometimes the opportunity has a cost.  Sometimes it just helps develop the fiction, explore more of the setting, or draw the characters deeper into the adventure.  

You might wonder why giving a PC a new opportunity is a good sanction for a failed check, rather than the reward for a successful one.  Consider it from the player’s perspective:  They wanted their character to do something, but the dice say they can’t.  Instead, if they want to achieve their goal, they have no choice but to do it a different way - a way they wouldn’t have chosen.  To the player, offering them an opportunity will feel like a sanction.

Success with Consequences

In the rules, this is called “progress combined with a setback.”  In RPG theory circles, it is called “fail forward.”  On Run a Game (and in the Fate RPG), it is called “success with consequences.”  The character succeeds at their intended action, but triggers the problem caused by the DM Move you chose.  If you used a "hard" move (something immediate and irrevocable), the consequence happens right now, and the players have to deal with it.  If you used a "soft" move (something distant, off-screen, or vague), it sets up more danger down the road and raises the tension level, but doesn't make an immediate demand on the characters.

Never Use “No Progress”

When there’s no reason not to repeat the attempt, and the attempt doesn’t cost anything,, don’t use a “makes no progress toward the objective” outcome.  That’s boring.  The player will just keep rolling until they succeed.  The only time a PC should be allowed to try again on a failed check is if every failed check comes with a cost or consequence.  Even that can turn an exciting scene into a frustrating one, so use it sparingly.

The DM Moves

Here are the D&D DM Moves.  Remember, when a player fails an ability check, gets information, or looks to the DM for the results, you should make a DM Move.  Moves that do not directly harm the characters or change the conflict are called "soft moves."  Moves that harm the characters or change the conflict are "hard moves."  (Click the list to download a printable PDF page of the moves to bring to the table.)

1. Have the dungeon interfere
2. Leverage an opportunity or drawback of someone's class, race, or equipment
3. Highlight a conflict using their Alignment, Trait, Ideal, Bond, or Flaw
4. Take away their stuff
5. Make something deal damage 
6. Name the price, and ask
7. Put someone in a spot
8. Split the party
9. Reveal an unwelcome truth or signal an approaching threat
10. Increase the time pressure

How to Use the Moves

1. Have the dungeon interfere

This is an "A Problem Arose" move, but it can also be a "Success with Consequences" move.  The dungeon is full of dangers including monsters, traps, curses, shifting walls, spells, crumbling architecture, water, gas, fire, and so much more.  Failing to do something is not just "no progress" -- something has to stop the adventurer from trying again.  And in this case, what stops them is one of the dungeon's many hazards.  Even outside a dungeon, you can think of a cool “fantasy hazard” to interfere.  This is the best move for pushing the fantasy exploration elements of D&D.

Example:  With difficulty, you climb over the wall... and hear the sound of crossbows firing rapidly!  Arrows are flying toward you.  What do you do?

2. Leverage an opportunity or drawback of someone's class, race, or equipment

Failing to do something can come along with an opportunity.  In this case, use an opportunity that fits the class' abilities.  The idea is to show off a character's class.  It doesn't have to be the character who failed the roll.  You can also have a problem arise that fits a class, race, or equipment in the party.  The Baron can’t be persuaded because you brought a stinking dwarf.  This is the best move for shifting the spotlight and showing off a character’s outward traits.

Example:  There are no handholds where you can reach, but if you could stand on a magical Floating Disc, you could reach the handholds higher up the wall..

Example:  You can't get over the wall because your armor is too heavy.  If you take it off, you can heave it over, then climb over yourself, unarmored.  What do you do?

3. Highlight a conflict using their Alignment, Trait, Ideal, Bond, or Flaw

The move represents an opportunity that opens up, but it creates a conflict with one or more characters' alignments, personality traits, ideals, bonds, or flaws.  The conflict can be an opportunity or a setback.  An opportunity can start a discussion between characters who have different perspectives.  For instance, the opportunity to kill a slumbering orc is expedient for a Chaotic character and dishonorable for a Lawful one.  The trait you're highlighting doesn't have to reside in the character who failed the check.  This is the best move for shifting the spotlight and showing off a character’s internal motives and drives.

Example:  You just can't get up the wall.  Only Sir Marley is strong enough to get over the wall.  Remember Marley, your Flaw is "I secretly believe that everyone is beneath me."  What do you do?

4. Take away their stuff

“...the Lord will come like a thief...” (2 Peter 3:10).  This move is different from "name a price and ask" (below), because in this case, you don’t ask.  The player doesn't have a choice.  Make sure the loss of the item is more than a minor inconvenience.  The character should be worried about the loss.  However, the loss doesn’t have to be permanent - it just has to be interesting, exciting, or push the PCs toward some danger.  Because magic items are very rare treasures in 5th edition D&D, don't just destroy them.  You can take them away without taking them away forever.  This is the best move for highlighting the value of equipment and emphasizing the resource management aspects of D&D.  It can also draw the PCs into greater danger, chasing after or replacing lost or stolen gear.

Example:  You get over the wall, but you lost your balance and almost fell at the top, and your bow slipped off your back, clattering down the other side.  What do you do?

5. Make something deal damage

Things in D&D deal damage all the time, and failed checks are an ideal time to do it.  Damage is part of the combat system stakes, but you can deal damage outside of combat, too.  This makes the PCs more vulnerable if a combat starts.  They might take the time to heal the damage you dealt, so don't bother dealing damage unless you're dealing at least twice the party's level in total damage to a single character, or an amount equal to the party level to every character.  You can deal more damage than that, if you want.  Five times the party's level is a heck of a lot of damage.  Ten times the party's level is likely to drop or kill someone.  This is the best hard move when the PCs know there’s a battle looming, enemies chasing them, or they’re on a short timer and have to hurry.  It combines well with “Have the dungeon interfere” because dungeon hazards from Kobold archers to pits of fire often deal damage.

Example:  You get over the wall, exhausted and scraped up.  Take 1d6 damage.  What do you do?  (The example character could be Level 2, so 1d6 damage hurts enough to be worth it).

6. Name the price, and ask

Describe how the character will fail unless they pay a price.  The price has to be a resource that the characters care about.  If the party is not racing against the clock, wasting an hour of time isn't a big deal.  If the party has ten thousand gold pieces, twenty silver pieces isn't a big deal.  You can also name the price in terms of story - “give us the child and you can walk away” or “I’ll tell you, but you’ll owe me.”  Like “Take away their stuff,” this move can highlight the resource management aspect of D&D pretty well, but it introduces a hard bargain, so it’s even better for highlighting strategic decision making or adding complications to their well laid plans.  It’s also a natural hard move in social conflicts, to make NPCs demand proof, bribes, compromises, or concessions.

Example:  You'll need to use all your pitons if you want to climb over this wall.  You won't be able to get them back from the other side, so you’ll have to mark them off your sheet.  What do you do?

7. Put someone in a spot

The character's failure puts them in a sudden, unexpected, dangerous situation.  They need to take immediate and decisive action or get help from their allies to get out of it.  You can also put a character in a vulnerable position.  This is a hard move that changes the situation dramatically, but still gives the character a chance to get away.  Unlike “Make something deal damage,” you’re giving the PCs a chance to avoid the danger.  The character in the tight spot can be the one who failed the roll, or the failure can put someone else in a spot. This is the best move for raising the stakes fast.

Example:  You get to the top of the wall, using the vines as handholds.  Just as you're about to grab the top edge, the vines start to tear away.  You fall five feet immediately before the vines catch.  You're dangling twenty feet off the ground, and the vines are about to tear the rest of the way free.  What do you do?

8. Split the party

The old advice "don't split the party" is there for a reason.  Players want to avoid splitting the party because it really puts the characters in a tight spot.  So if you want to raise the stakes quickly, split the party.  This move is dramatic in a dungeon or wilderness, where the characters can’t get back together before they have to face another monster, hazard, or obstacle before they can reconnect.  You can split the party on the small scale, too.  Open a simple ten foot wide chasm between them as they march single-file down a five foot wide hallway, or have the monsters attack right in the middle of the group.  It’s also interesting to split the characters up across a larger scale like a city or even continent.  There are drawbacks to the GM for running a split party for a long time, so most of the time, you should create a split that the players can resolve within a few hours of play at most.  This is the best move to make when the characters are in dangerous, unfamiliar territory and already feel a little lost.

Example:  Near the top of the wall, there's only one handhold.  You have to perch on this one tiny ledge and lunge for the top.  It's a heck of a reach, but you make it -- barely.  Unfortunately, as you lunge, the ledge cracks and falls free.  There's no way for anyone else to get up here.  What do you do?

9. Reveal an unwelcome truth or signal an approaching threat

This is a great "soft move" that moves the story along and raises the tension without making the players deal with a new complication.  Unwelcome truths are facts that are true in the game world, that the player characters will not like.  "...[S]ignal an approaching threat" means give the players a hint that things are about to get worse.  You can signal an approaching threat by hinting that some distant creature has become aware of the characters, even vaguely.  It’s the best move to make when the PCs are feeling safe or when they don’t know what’s going on or what kinds of dangers await them. It's the best move to make to introduce the stakes of the situation the PCs are in.  It can also hint at distant happenings in the larger story or reveal dark truths about the campaign setting.  Magic is dying.  The plague has come to Neverwinter.  The cult is close to freeing the Bound God.  It’s fun on the small scale, too.  See the example.

Example:  You get to the top of the wall with a lot of effort.  When you pull yourself over, your armor makes a loud CLANG! that reverberates down the dark hallway ahead of you.  If there's anything down there, it knows you're here now.  What do you do?

10. Increase the time pressure

D&D works best as a race against the clock, because it has a tight resource management system where every PC resource refreshes after a certain amount of time.  If there’s no hurry, the PCs are much, much stronger.  Consequently, DMs almost always create some reason to hurry.  When you make this move, you introduce a new timer, use up valuable time, or shorten the fuse.  Introduce a new timer by describing a new race against the clock.  For instance, a sentry runs off to warn their boss, or the characters learn that something bad happens in this dungeon when night falls.  Run down the clock by making actions take a lot longer than planned.  Shorten the fuse by revealing an unwelcome truth:  That the characters have a lot less time than they thought.  Be aware of the rest mechanics in 5e and how they create time pressure.  Here are some ways to increase the time pressure:

• Create new time pressure where there was none
• Put some new event on the clock (e.g. rival adventurers arriving in an hour)
• Deny them the chance to take a rest before the next battle
• Remind them how many hours are left on the clock (if they’re nearly out of time)
• Take a day off the clock (where there are fewer than ten days left)
• Take an hour off the clock (where there are fewer than ten hours left)
• Take fifteen minutes off the clock (where there are fewer than 3 hours left)
• Take a round off the clock (where there are fewer than 20 rounds or 2 minutes left)

This is the best move to make when you want to push the PCs to take hasty, exciting, risky, bold, heroic action. It's the best move to stop them from being too cautious.

Example:  You approach the wall, but quickly realize there are no handholds.  It's flat brick.  But there is some scrap wood here, and you could build a sturdy ladder long enough to get to the top.  It will take about an hour.  What do you do? (In the example situation, using up an hour is only interesting if there are fewer than ten hours on the clock.)

Ask, "What do you do?"

Traditionally, according to Vincent Baker, when the GM makes a Move, they should follow it by asking a player or all the players, “What do you do?’  This passes the "talking stick" back to them and makes everything you say into a prompt for them -- requiring their input. You can use this question to focus closer on the acting character, broaden the focus to let anyone else jump in, or refocus the spotlight on a different character.  Use body language and character names to shift the focus of the action around.  Here’s an example where the DM makes a move that leverages an opportunity for someone's class and then uses "What do you do?" to shift the spotlight.

Example:  OK, Barbarian, near the top of the wall, there's only one handhold.  You have to perch your toes on this one tiny ledge and lunge for the top.  It's a heck of a reach, but you get to the top -- barely.  Unfortunately, as you lunged, the ledge cracked and fell free.  There's no way for anyone else to get up here without magic.  Wizard, Cleric:  What do you do?