Posts Tagged ‘fantasy’
A discussion w/ Inkblitz last night about levelling and suchlike prompted me to noodle around some more with 20th level Shade-Of-the-Candle builds. My general plan for her has been to stick with swashbuckler rogue through level 9 in order to get Panache and then… not sure? Maybe tack on some fighter, since she tends to like to get in and mix it up. Maybe stick to 10 to get the stat bump.
Weirdly, for all my cursing of dice, I don’t actually like the 11th level rogue ability Reliable Talent, which lets you treat any roll with which you’re proficient as if you’d rolled at least a 10. By the time you’re 11th level you’ve got expertise in four skills, a proficiency bonus of +4, and probably +2 to +4 stat bonuses on any skill you’re likely to use a lot, so you’re looking at rogues who are literally incapable of rolling below a 22 on Perception and Stealth (assuming that any rogue worth their salt has at least those two expertised up).
But then I started pfutzing around with bard and… holy crap. O.o Jack of All Trades doesn’t stack with Reliable Talent (thank goodness), but it DOES add to Initiative checks (which Swashbucklers get a bonus to) and, oh yeah, they get another skill proficiency to toss on the pile while they’re at it AND expertise with TWO MORE skills. Aheh. So for your pleasure, assuming no changes in equipment, please compare 20th level Shady as Rogue/Fighter vs. 20th level Shady as Rogue/Bard:
—–
SHADY: Rogue 15/Fighter (Champion) 5
AC 19, hp 169
Initiative: +8
–
Str 10 Dex 20 Con 16 Int 10 Wis 12 Cha 16
Saves: Dex +11, Int +6, Wis +7
Acrobatics +11 (min 21), Athletics +12 (min 22), Deception +3, Intimidation +9 (min 19), Investigation +12 (min 22), Perception +13 (min 23), Persuasion +15 (min 25), Sleight of Hand +11 (min 21), Stealth +11 (min 21)
–
Action Surge, Blindsense, Cunning Action, Dual Wielder, Elegant Maneuver, Evasion, Extra Attack, Fancy Footwork, Fighting Style (Mariner), Improved Critical, Panache, Rakish Audacity, Reliable Talent, Second Wind, Sneak Attack +8d6, Uncanny Dodge
–
Multiattack: Shady attacks twice with the Crescent Moon and can choose to attack with her cutlass as a bonus action
Crescent Moon: +12 to hit, crit 19-20, 1d8+6 piercing +8d6 sneak attack
Cutlass (off-hand): +11 to hit, crit 19-20, 1d6 slashing
Pistol: +11 to hit, crit 19-20, 1d10+5 piercing
—–
SHADY: Rogue 14/Bard (College of Swords) 6
AC 18, hp 164
Initiative: +11 (holy crap)
–
Str 10 Dex 20 Con 16 Int 10 Wis 12 Cha 16
Saves: Dex +11, Int +6
Acrobatics +17 (min 27), Athletics +12 (min 22), Deception +9 (min 19), Intimidation +9 (min 19), Investigation +12 (min 22), Perception +13 (min 23), Persuasion +15 (min 25), Sleight of Hand +11 (min 21), Stealth +17 (min 27), no skill bonus less than +3 thanks to Jack of All Trades
–
Bardic Inspiration d8 (3 uses/short rest), Blade Flourish, Blindsense, Countercharm, Cunning Action, Dual Wielder, Elegant Maneuver, Evasion, Extra Attack, Fancy Footwork, Fighting Style (Two-Weapon Fighting), Jack of All Trades, Panache, Rakish Audacity, Reliable Talent, Sneak Attack +7d6, Song of Rest d6, Uncanny Dodge
–
Spells: 0-level—Friends, Mage Hand, Vicious Mockery; 1-level (4 slots)—Dissonant Whispers, Healing Word, Heroism, Longstrider, Sleep; 2-level (3 slots)—Blindness/Deafness, Calm Emotions, Enthrall; 3-level (3 slots)—Stinking Cloud
–
Multiattack: Shady attacks twice with the Crescent Moon and can choose to attack with her cutlass as a bonus action
Crescent Moon: +12 to hit, 1d8+6 piercing +7d6 sneak attack
Cutlass (off-hand): +11 to hit, 1d6+5 slashing
Pistol: +11 to hit, 1d10+5 piercing
—–
CONCLUSIONS:
Bard Shady is slightly squishier but not that much: the biggest defense she loses is proficiency with Wisdom saves (which she doesn’t get until Rogue 15 anyway). On the other hand, her initiative and skills are off the charts. She trades 1d6 of sneak attack for being able to add a reliable +5 to her off-hand attack, that’s kind of a wash in terms of combat numbers.
Blade Flourish and spells bring a LOT to the table, tho. All the spells I chose were things that I could convincingly reflavor into things Shady just does, rather than being actual spells—e.g., sleep becomes a sucker punch, blindness/deafness becomes blinding powder tossed into somebody’s face, etc. Mechanically, however, they add some exotic damage (particularly psychic) to her kit, in case they go up against something that just stabbing is less effective against. Blade Flourish can situationally make up for the AC and damage drop, while also opening up opportunities for mini-AoE damage or shoving targets around the field.
Finally, Bard Shady is a much better leader, with Bardic Inspiration, Song of Rest, Countercharm, Healing Word, Heroism, and Calm Emotions to rally the crew, vs. Fighter Shady, who is a gloryhound, more durable in a long fight and can get off SPECTACULAR CRITS a little more often.
Honestly, of the two, Bard Shady is much more interesting, but that Reliable Talent and +11 Initiative just break my brain.
-The Gneech
Creating Five Star Adventures
I’ve been running a somewhat-modified Tomb of Annihilation lately, and while my players seem to be having a good time, I must admit that I’m not quite feeling the connection with it that I would like. Perhaps exacerbated by the fact that the group has had some seriously bad luck with navigation rolls and so keeps getting lost in the jungle, the game largely feels to me like a string of random fights, with little or no through-line of story or character development, which are famously the parts of any game that I’m the most interested in.
While I was looking for ways to address this for my next session, I happened across this video from Runesmith, in which he enumerates “five things an adventure should have.” What immediately struck me is that I’ve seen this concept before: the first time was in West End Games’s Star Wars Roleplaying Game, way back in 1987, but it’s also a core conceit of the Five Room Dungeon concept. Some of the specific bullet points of the five items vary, however, and if we map them to Dungeons & Dragons‘s “Three Pillars of Adventure” (Exploration, Social Interaction, and Combat), we get…
| Star Wars RPG | Five Room Dungeon | Runesmith |
|---|---|---|
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Why five? First, it’s complex enough to be meaty without being so complex that it bogs down in detail or analysis paralysis. Second, it nicely maps to the familiar five-act story structure of setup > rising action > complication > climax > denouement. Finally, it’s a handy pocket size. The Star Wars example doesn’t quite map to the other two—”firefight,” “ship combat,” and “chase” are all more-or-less specific flavors of “fight something”—but the Star Wars setting, with its alien creatures and exotic worlds, has “go somewhere cool” baked into it universe design assumptions (and the inherent reward of any adventure assumed to be “victory for the Alliance”).
Looking at my Tomb of Annihilation game, I actually think that most of the individual sessions have hit the five points fairly consistently: the Burning Coast is an exciting region with dangers and wonders galore, there have been plenty of colorful NPCs, and so on. It has leaned a little heavily on the combat and exploration, but I think the point that may be falling down is rewards. Not just in terms of treasure (because there hasn’t been much, but in this setting gold and such is largely irrelevant), but in terms of the inherent reward of “moving the story forward.” The party came to the Burning Coast to find (and hopefully end) the Wasting Curse, and so far they’ve gone dino racing, rowed up the Amazon Soshenstar River, and now they’ve gotten entangled with the troubles of a lizardfolk village that may or may not have anything to do with the Big Problem. The barbarian, of all people, is wondering “Are we getting anywhere?” and maybe he has a point.
With this in mind, I think I’m going to remix a few of the elements of the next session to tie them more closely to the Big Problem, but more importantly, to show the players that it’s tied to the Big Problem. In an adventure where “loot” is not a metric, “plot coupons” are the actual reward, and I think maybe I’ve been too stingy with those. So I will address that.
-The Gneech
Shady and the Tiger, Revisited
Just a quickie story from the D&D game I play in, for your enjoyment. :)
I apologize for all the names being so similar; that’s just something that’s happened organically in the campaign as it’s progressed.
SHADY = Shade-Of-the-Candle, my tabaxi swashbuckler
SILMA = weretiger amazon who recently joined the party
SHANA = another player’s tiefling warlock
—–
“So this is the Laughing Axe Tavern, it’s the closest thing we have to a base of operations really,” said Shade-Of-the-Candle, holding the door open. The enormous weretiger Silma had to duck her head to clear the door coming in, drawing more than a few turned heads, which neither Shady nor Silma acknowledged. “Maybe not the Lady Patrician’s Manor, but it beats living in an alley,” the much smaller tabaxi said.
“More than adequate,” said Silma. “I’m used to life on the road.”
The group drifted off to various open seats in the crowded room; Rulita, Rai, and Shana ended up at one small table, while Leuco and Capsaicin went to the bar. Finding nowhere adequate to the task of seating her, Silma went to an apple barrel in the corner and climbed up onto it for a makeshift stool. As if taking a cue, Shade-Of-the-Candle hopped up and sat on the end of the bar next to her.
“Oy!” said the bartender, putting his fists on his sides and scowling at the tabaxi. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m ordering a round of drinks for me and my friends, that’s what,” said Shady, slapping a few gold coins down on the bar.
“Well put your butt on a stool, not on my bar.”
“What stool?” demanded Shady. “The place is packed! Besides, I’m having a conversation with my friend here.” Turning to Silma, she said, “Whattya wanna drink, Simmie?”
The weretiger blinked. “Simmie?”
“Yeah?” said Shady. “Whattya wanna drink?”
“Wine and water will be fine,” said Silma.
“You heard her,” said Shady. “Same for me. Get a move on.”
The bartender frowned, but collected the coins and stepped away all the same.
Silma cocked her head at Shady. “Where did ‘Simmie’ come from?”
Shady shrugged. “I dunno. Easier to say than ‘Silma.’ I give people names. It’s just a thing I do.”
“Like ‘Sea-Legs’ and ‘Devil-Girl.’”
“You got it.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised,” said Silma. “You are a tabaxi, after all.”
“What does that have to do with it?”
“I meant no offense,” said Silma.
“No, I mean seriously, what does that have to do with it?”
“Oh, just tabaxi, and their propensity for nicknames. I’ve always found it a charming quirk.”
“Tabaxi have a propensity for nicknames?”
Silma adjusted awkwardly on her barrel. “It’s just a stereotype, I suppose.” Looking around, still shifting uncomfortably, she asked, “Is it always this crowded?”
“Waxes and wanes,” said Shady. “There’s a big Thessalanian whaler in the harbor, probably half the people here are off of it.”
“I hope there’ll be somewhere to sleep.”
Shady blinked at her. “What, in the common room?”
“That was my plan,” said Silma.
“Oh. Uh.” Shady’s ears twitched. “I’ve got a whole room, upstairs.”
“All to yourself?” The weretiger gave a half-smirk as the bartender returned with her watered wine. “Being the owner of a ship has made you extravagant.”
“Hey, I’m a proper somebody now,” said Shady, grinning. “But what I’m getting at, is you don’t have to sleep in the common area. You can stay up in my room.”
Silma’s ears folded down, and she stood up from the barrel. “No thank you,” she said. “If you’ll excuse me.”
“Huh?” said Shady.
“I’ll find a room in one of the other taverns in town. You can find me through the Golden Compass Society when it’s time to continue our pursuit of Captain Aranthé.”
Shady jumped down to the floor after her. “What? Why?”
Silma glowered down at the tabaxi. “I don’t know what kind of person you are, but I don’t fall into bed with someone I’ve just met and I don’t appreciate—”
Shady’s ears shot up and her eyes widened. “Fall into bed? You mean—?” In a loud and confused voice that caused the weretiger to flinch and look around the room, Shady announced, “I don’t want to have sex with you!” A peculiar noise not far off may have been Leuco snorting into a mug of ale.
“Oh, please!” snarled Silma. “Ever since you first showed up in that cave you’ve been following me around, making eyes at me, acting like a show off—”
Shady’s own ears pinned down. “I have not!”
“And now you’re proposing that I share your room.”
“So what? I’d let any of my friends share my room if they asked!”
“But you didn’t invite any of them. Only me!”
Shady blinked at that, and stared at Silma for a beat. Finally she said, “Well… well yeah, okay, I have been coming on a little strong. But it wasn’t because I was hitting on you! I mean, I’m not not hitting on you, I guess, if you wanted to have sex I’m not against the idea, but it’s not… I mean… that wasn’t…”
“Well what, then?” demanded Silma.
“I just…!” said Shady. “I just, I just… you’re the only person I’ve ever met like me.”
Silma furrowed her brows. “Like you?”
Shady looked down. “Everkeep has humans, and elves, and dwarves… and we’re right by Humblewood, so there’s mouse people and fox people and bird people and squirrel people and who-knows-what-else. But I’ve never met my kind. Never another cat person. Never. Not once.” She turned her eyes up to Silma. “Until now.”
Silma’s ears tilted forward. “Not once? No parents or siblings? No—”
“Not. Once.” Shady snarled. “I can’t even speak or read my own language. I know what my name looks like, but I don’t know how to say it. You tell me tabaxi give people nicknames? That’s news to me.”
Silma smiled, gently. “I am not a tabaxi, Shade-Of-the-Candle.”
Shady looked away, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. “No, I know you’re not. But… you’re more like… one of us… than one of… them.”
“Shady,” said Silma. Her voice had jumped up a full octave or more, and lost its gravelly sound, but it was unmistakably her.
Shady jerked her gaze back to see not a seven foot tall tiger woman, but a nearly-normal human before her, with a dark cast to her skin and black hair. Only the golden, slit pupils of her eyes hinted at the feline. The tabaxi’s ears drooped, and she somehow seemed to shrink.
“Shady,” said Silma again. “I am not ‘your kind’ in the way you think I am. I am as human as I am tiger. When you say ‘them’ you are also talking about me.”
Shady blinked, and looked down at her clawed hands. “You’re right,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
“But you aren’t so alone. Soon you will have a ship. It can take you to Port Nyanzaru, to Setranophis, or even Payit, where tabaxi are plentiful. Maybe you have a family out there still, trying to find you.” Shifting back into her weretiger form, Silma put a massive paw on Shady’s shoulder. “When this business is done, perhaps we could go find some for you.”
“I’m sorry,” said Shady again. She slipped out from under Silma’s grasp, and walked away.
Shady and the Wizard
A story fragment that popped into my head last night, starring my tabaxi rogue. Enjoy!…
Shade-of-the-Candle slid the final stretch of the ramp in a low crouch, dropping forward onto one hand from her momentum when she hit the bottom. The torch she’d been carrying clattered across the floor, extinguished, but to her surprise, she didn’t need it.
She’d been deposited into a large, round chamber with concentric pillars that were covered with writhing hieroglyphs. The middle of the ceiling was dominated by a cluster of dimly-luminous indigo crystals; sitting cross-legged on a dais under the crystals, was the robed figure of a man.
Or… not? There were too many arms, for starters, and the skin visible on the man’s forearms and hands was a dusky blue-gray, but that may have been a trick of the light. The fact that each of the four hands had two thumbs, one on either side, also did not inspire confidence. The man’s face, if indeed he had one, was completely obscured by his cowl, but Shady had no doubt that he was aware of her.
Shady blinked at him. He didn’t move. The tomb was supposed to have been lost. It was definitely trapped. She’d had a tough scrabble to get this far, only to find this oddity sitting in what she had expected to be the treasure chamber. Either way, she wasn’t about to go home empty-handed now. Her tail flicked back and forth involuntarily, as she rose to a standing position and slowly drew her cutlasses.
The hood dipped slightly. A deep bass rumble assaulted Shady’s ears and crushed her skull, nearly knocking her back off her feet, but then it passed as quickly as it had come. Across from her, the figure gave a quiet and dismissive snort.
Shady blinked at it. “What kind of hellspawn are you?” she asked.
“I am no kind of hellspawn, you superstitious creature,” the figure replied. The voice was male, more of a deep buzzing than anything else, and spoke in the clipped tones of a noble.
“Then what are–“
“There’s no point in telling you what I am,” he said. “It wouldn’t mean anything to you. And even if I could explain it, it would just blast your already dangerously-limited mind into even smaller fragments.”
The corner of Shady’s mouth rose in a smirk. “So you’re a wizard,” she said, moving slowly into the ring of pillars.
“Fine. Yes. I’m a wizard. It’s less wrong than anything else you might come up with.”
“You’re pretty rude,” said Shady.
“I am intensely rude,” said the wizard. “And I intend to remain that way. What will you do, now that you’ve come to that brilliant conclusion?”
Shady stepped forward again, pointing at his cowl with the tip of one of her swords. “I’ve heard it said, that the best thing to do when you come upon a wizard, is to kill it.”
The creature didn’t move. “So why don’t you, then?”
She gave him a long, appraising look. “Because…” she finally said, “you don’t seem particularly afraid that I might.”
Two of the wizard’s four arms retreated under robes. He used the other two to shift into a more attentive position. “The creature has some sense after all!” he said. “This may turn out to be interesting.”
“What are you doing, squatting in an ancient tomb?”
“What are you doing, crawling around in it?”
“I’m a thief,” said Shady.
“Of course you are.”
“But you didn’t answer my question. The tomb was sealed. What are you doing here?”
“I am playing a game of strategy,” said the wizard. “A game that spans eons, made up of the most infinitesimally small moves imaginable.”
“A game?” said Shady. “There’s no board. There are no pieces.”
“I’m looking at one right now,” said the wizard.
Shady rolled her eyes. “Okay, this conversation is pointless,” she said. “Where’s the Red King’s treasure chamber? Where’s the Red King’s treasure?”
“Oh, it’s here,” said the wizard. “Right where he buried it. Every few hundred years another would-be robber comes blundering in, and not one has managed to take it way yet. One or two did manage to get away richer than they came, of course. You may be one of the lucky ones.”
“Any objections if I try my luck?” said Shady, gesturing with her sword again.
“None whatsoever,” said the wizard. “I have no interest in baubles. There’s another passage, behind me. You may find what you’re looking for that way.”
“Fine,” said Shady, sheathing her swords. “Go back to your game then, wizard, and stay out of my way.” She collected the torch from where she’d dropped it and reignited it.
“Another pawn moves into play,” said the wizard. Shady glared at the back of his cowl, and plunged down the passage.
Gamers of the Galaxy
DM: Ronan comes striding out of the wrecked ship. Like before, he appears to have taken no damage from the crash. He sneers at you and bellows to the crowd, “Behold! Your ‘Guardians of the Galaxy’!”
GAMORA: Gaah, that damn infinity stone! He’s basically casting globe of invulnerability on himself.
DM: He also steps in Groot.
ROCKET: Son of a bitch!
DM: Rocket, your turn.
ROCKET: The infinity stone is mounted in his hammer, right? Could I maybe shoot the hammer out of his hand?
DM: With a regular gun? Not likely.
STARLORD: Unfortunately, you used your hadron enforcer already. That recharges on a short rest, right?
ROCKET: Yeah. …But, hey! Can I spend my inspiration point from protecting all those civilians to get the hadron enforcer‘s charge back?
DM (thinking): Okay, sure, but it got kinda smashed up in the crash. Make a DC 15 tool proficiency check to get it working.
ROCKET (rolls): Aw, shit! What a time to roll a freakin’ nine.
GAMORA: Geeze, and you blew an inspiration point on it.
DM: Well, you can keep trying on your next turn– if you get a next turn. Ronan’s on the ground, now.
ROCKET: Crap.
DM: Drax? Your turn.
DRAX: I assist Rocket on his next roll.
DM: Okay. Gamora?
GAMORA: Um… crap, I dunno, I’m a fighter. Can I just… I dunno, keep my eyes open and be ready to jump in?
DM: Delay requires an action and a trigger.
GAMORA: Okay, I guess if I see an opportunity to grab the hammer, I’ll do that.
DM: Good enough. Starlord?
STARLORD: What’s Ronan doing?
DM: He’s getting ready to smash the hammer down and destroy all life on the planet. Y’know, like one does.
ROCKET: Craaaaaaap.
STARLORD: I challenge him to a dance-off.
GAMORA: What???
DRAX: Pffft!
ROCKET: Oh God.
STARLORD: You said my tape player was going, somewhere off in the wreckage, right? Well, it says right here: my bond is “I treasure my mixtape from home more than life itself.” If I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die dancing to my mixtape!
DM (laughs): Sure, why not? Go ahead and make a Deception check, with advantage for tying into your traits.
STARLORD (rolls): Aww, yeah! Twenty-frickin’-SEVEN! (sings) Oooo-ooh child, things are gonna get bet-ter!
DM (still laughing): Okay! Ronan tries a DC 27 Wisdom save (rolls) and blows it bigtime. He’s effectively stunned for a round at Starlord’s pelvic sorcery.
TABLE: (laughter)
STARLORD: Gamora! Take it!
GAMORA: I am so not taking it.
STARLORD: I meant take the hammer.
GAMORA: Can I use my readied action to grab the hammer while Ronan is stunned?
DM: Call it a disarm check. Make an unarmed attack roll against Ronan’s Athletics check. (rolls)
GAMORA (rolling): Uh… man! Another nine.
DM: Yeah, no. Ronan’s got a vice grip on that thing.
GAMORA: Yeah, I’m just gonna stand there and stare at Starlord like he’s nuts.
DM: Okay, new round! Ronan is stunned and just stares at Starlord. “What are you doing?”
STARLORD: I’m distracting you, ya big turd blossom!
DM (laughs): Rocket, roll on your tool check again. You have advantage this time, thanks to Drax’s aid.
ROCKET (rolls): Nineteen! Hadron enforcer online, baby! I shoot the motherfucker! I mean, I shoot the hammer out of his hand.
DM: Unfortunately, it took your turn to make the skill check.
DRAX: So it’s my turn? I shoot the motherfucker.
DM: That works! You grab the hadron enforcer from Rocket and basically use it to make a ranged 5d10 disarm! Go ahead and total it up, the damage will be the difficulty for his Athletics check. (rolls)
DRAX (rolls, with no small amount of satisfaction): Thirty four!
DM: Ahahahaha, no. Not only does Ronan not make his Athletics check, the hammer explodes into a bazillion pieces, sending the infinity stone flying into the air!
ROCKET: Oh crap oh crap oh crap!
STARLORD: I’m basically standing next to Ronan, right? ’cause we were having a dance-off? Can I grab the infinity stone before it hits the ground?
DM: You can try! Give me a Dexterity save.
GAMORA: That thing does 100 necrotic damage per round and then you have to make Charisma saves to not explode!
STARLORD: Yeah, but while I’m lying there making death saves you can slap a container onto it. The Charisma save I’m not worried about.
GAMORA: But we don’t have a healer!
STARLORD: Well maybe there’s a paramedic in the crowd. (rolls) Anyway! I roll a sixteen.
DM: You nab it out of the air! You take 100 points of necrotic damage!
STARLORD: Ow.
DM: Fortunately, your Mystery Boon kicks in– turns out you are resistant to necrotic damage! So you only take 50.
STARLORD: Yay? I have fifteen hit points. (rolls) Twenty-two Charisma save.
DM: You are not killed outright on this round, but you are stunned and unable to act. A massive ball of purple-black necrotic energy swells around you, engulfing you and Ronan both. Ronan looks more than a little offended that you aren’t dead.
STARLORD: I bet he does!
DM: He also takes 100 points of damage, and is offended by that, too! It’s not enough to kill him, but it clearly hurts. He shouts, “Who are you???”
STARLORD: So all I gotta do is stand here dying at him to take him out?
DM: Pretty much!
STARLORD: Winning! When he shouts “Who are you?” I just give him my most smug, “You said it yourself, we’re the Guardians of the Galaxy, bitch!”
DM: Starlord taunts the badguy! It doesn’t do anything, but points for going out in style.
GAMORA: You said the damage happens every round, right? So he’s going to keep taking it?
DM: Yes. It spreads out through everyone in contact with whoever’s touching the stone.
GAMORA: Okay, I grab Starlord’s hand to absorb some of the damage and ready an action to shove a container onto the stone when Ronan drops.
DRAX: I’ll grab on too.
ROCKET: Ditto.
DM: Okay, new round! Ronan takes 100 points of damage, which is forty-odd more than he had. He explodes with a look of deep resentment on his face.
TABLE: (cheers, high-fives)
DM: You all take 100 points of damage split four ways, so 25 each, except for Starlord, who resists it and takes 12.
STARLORD: Two! I have two friggin’ hit points! Eat that, Ronan the Dickhead!
ROCKET: Ronan-the-A-Loser, more like!
GAMORA: I shove the infinity stone into the container!
DM: The purple-black cloud of necrotic energy immediately dissipates! Revealing Yondu and a dozen Ravagers. “Well, well, that was quite a light show!”
DRAX: Seriously?
STARLORD: Geeze, if it isn’t one damn thing, it’s another around here.
-The Gneech
Laconipedantism
About 2/3 of the way through the opening sequence of Heathcliff/Cats and Company, Riff-Raff and Cleo randomly go zooming off in a bathtub.
It’s not a bathtub on wheels, there are no rockets or other means of propulsion. It’s just a friggin’ bathtub.
I mean, the cats living in a random James Bond-esque transforming Cadillac in a junkyard, didn’t bother me. But flying off in a random hover-bathtub? That bothered me.
Last night, I had a random dream in which I was watching a “behind the scenes” video about this series. I don’t know if this dream was based on a long-lost memory, or if it was my brain making stuff up, but it doesn’t really matter. In the dream, somebody my brain identified as one of the show-runners coined the term “laconipedantism.” “What that means,” he said, “is that our policy was to explain as little as possible, or with as few words as possible, or to just not explain things at all. ‘How does it work?’ We’re not going to tell you! What you see is what you get, deal with it.”
That struck me as a gutsy approach. I don’t know if I would always consider it a good approach, but it was a gutsy one. But as I started to think about it, I realized that lots of storytellers work this way. Sometimes, you even get Lampshaded Laconipedantism.
Lampshaded Laconipedantism, or “We’re not gonna tell you! Neener-neener-neener!”
Obviously, cartoons have the most leeway for this kind of thing. Contemporary shows like The Amazing World of Gumball work entirely on this premise. But heck, the Marvel Cinematic Universe runs on this fuel, as does most fantasy literature. Star Trek and a lot of science fiction does a weird inverse, where it starts with “teleportation exists” and starts playing around with the ramifications of that, but it still can’t tell you how teleportation really works, just that it does.
Not every wild premise actually qualifies as laconipedantism, however. What makes it laconipedantism is the refusal of the artist to explain, address, or even acknowledge that there’s anything weird about it. Riff-Raff and Cleo go zooming off in a bathtub, man. Get over it. Done well, it creates a feeling of confidence in the work, even when it leads to headscratchy moments. Done poorly, it just becomes an incoherent mess, where the world makes no sense and the story falls apart.
Use with caution.
-The Gneech
