I know there is a system out there that already employs something similar for conflict resolution, but I have recently implimented Jenga as a part of my tabletop 4e D&D game.
Why you ask?
For those who have read about my gaming world, to understand sorcery (http://deismaar.pbwiki.com/Welcome+to+Deismaar) is decent into madness. Those who can wield it are slowly consumed by it, as they peer beyond the veil into the Well of Souls (http://deismaar.pbwiki.com/The-Well-of-Souls) to extract the necessary energy to shape and weave into "magic". With the advent of the Ritual in 4e, this works out really well because every class can technically use a Ritual.
So, I've set up a Jenga set on the mantle of the fireplace in the basement where we play, and have our only Ritual caster draw a Jenga block every time he utilizes a Ritual. Since I am now going through the process of turning all Wizard, Cleric and Warlock powers into buffed-up Rituals (and making them very attractive to use), as the particular player uses them his mortal mind slowly disintegrates as he begins to understand the paradoxes that lay between the material world of Deismaar (http://deismaar.pbwiki.com/Deismaar) and the shadow-mirror world in the Well of Souls (http://deismaar.pbwiki.com/The-Well-of-Souls). He is on track to lose all sense of his humanity, and become much, much more than what he is now.
So what happens whenever the Jenga tower crumbles?
I leave that to you, fair readers - give me some examples of what should change with the player - should it result in death? Is it akin to how the dark powers corrupt in the Ravenloft setting? Does it set out the necessary prerequisites to qualify for new Paragon or Epic-level classes? Is he afflicted with madness, ala Cthulu? Should there be temporary repercussions, or should it be permanent? Can the tower be rebuilt so he can regain sanity? Should each block he pulls have a hidden message written on the block to slowly uncover the hidden secrets of the known world? Heck, should certain blocks throw "wildcard" abilities into combat, or teach him new powers to entice him to use them more often (the "lure" of the occult).
Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated!
for reference:
Key Conceits of the Game
[spoiler]Magic, or Sorcery as it is known, is extraordinarily. It takes a rare individual to be able to command the powers of The Weave. Sorcerers, as Wizards are called, tend to hide their abilities. Even the most remote of indication of the supernatural amongst folk is enough to either send them running for the hills or in the worst case, gather a host against the "dark power". Even to that effect, it still takes a unique individual to take hold of sorcery and make of it as she will. Sorcery consumes; even the most knowledgable of adepts have succumbed to the Higher Mysteries. Even the most sharpest of minds is vulnerable to the most "common" or paltry of sorcerous tricks. Madness and melancholy often go hand in hand with the vast resources the Weave can offer the merest of adepts. More often than not, those few rare Sorcerers who've lived an age or two is either consumed by his abilities, or takes his own life. To understand Sorcery is to understand death, and to understand death one must look beyond into the Well of Souls.
Our world of Deismaar, while defined by our understanding of science as elemental, is not the only world we as men understand. Deismaar connects directly to one, and only one, other plane. This plane is called the Well of Souls. This "shadow world" reflects the mortal world, but in strange facsimile. Everything is dark and an air of emptiness hangs heavily, as if everything has been long-abandoned. Details change between one glance to the next; a building might remain the same, but a wagon parked beside it might be in a slightly different place, or gone, and a door that stood open might close. The more ephemeral a thing is in the real world, the more its position or condition might change '" the less firm its reflection. Ancient relics, long since torn down, may still stand in the Well of Souls. When a mortal being dies, its soul "wakes" in the Well of Souls and begins its journey towards the home of its patron god. Each spirit instinctively feels the direction in which it must travel to reach the end of its journey; the strength and accuracy of this pull is proportional to the soul's devotion to the ideas of its patron deity. Spirits that have little or no association with a patron are believed to be doomed to wander both Deismaar and the Well of Souls in parallel in what is called Ba'ator until they forget their sense of self and fade into oblivion.
Between the Well of Souls and Deismaar is a thinv veil called The Weave that acts as both a barrier and a gate between raw sorcery and Deismaar. With the Weave in place, mortals can access magic and are protected from the harmful effects of contacting raw magic while still able to tap its refined energy. The Weave is present in everything in Deismaar, whether living, dead, undead, inanimate, solid, liquid, or gas. It permeates the soil, suffuses the deeps of the seas, and stretches to the limits of the air in the sky and beyond. The Weave is like a great base fabric upon which the substance of the world is embroidered, a web upon which mortals walk like spiders, a great ocean upon which all objects float. At the same time, it is an aspect of Olorin, and it is by His will that the Weave reaches where it does. Spellcasters, knowingly or not, cause spells to work by drawing power from the Weave, adjusting the balance of energy so that the power of the Weave comes forth and is shaped by their actions and will. When the Weave is damaged by reckless sorcery or disaster, it can be torn, shredded, or destroyed, leaving areas that the laws of physics do not apply. This is the case where breaches through the Weave directly into the aether can be found and hauntings such as in the case of Baileen Abbey.
Gods do not grant spells. Sorcery is elemental, as stated above. Spellcasting "priests" do not exist in the same way they do in standard D&D. Rather, Gods do not take an immediate enough interest in mortals as to grant them god-like abilities. Men from the past have proclaimed that their abilities were given to them by "Those-Upon-High". Generally, this is either a case of the person attempting to justify their actions to common folk by invoking terror/fear/admonition/worship, or the person was truly insane and had no true understanding of where their powers originated from.
The gods are feared. The gods don't really care all that much about the smallest of men. The gods rarely grant miracles, or cure the sick, or make men fabulously weathy, or restore lovers from the dead (more on that later). But yes, the gods are positively real. How is it that great Masser, burning bright in the daytime sky, does not come crashing down into Deismaar upon its own accord? What of Mandos, the great mirror of light that waxes and wanes with the passage of stars and seasons does not simply wink out? The why is in that the Firstborn gods defined the physics of the world, while the Secondborn gods adjudicate the laws of the universe through their strength amongst their followers. Mankind understands science, but attributes a greater power behind the origin of nature and the order of the universe. To many, there simply are many inexplicable and strange things in Deismaar that nothing other than the will of distant beings could have instilled such order amongst beasts and men.
Monsters are real. Well, real enough at least to have been recognized most prevalently during the First Age, some of the Second Age, and rarely, if ever, seen during the Third Age. The thought is that these First Age "beasts" came out of history as Aldernon set out to create what we know as life, and Bhaelos twisted his creations into abominations. A side effect of this has been that what was once seen a just and "goodly" creatures (such as the Lammasu amongst the Olorinites) corrupted over time, and passed into the Well of Souls.
People die, and they tend to die at a young age. A child amongst most cultures is consirered a man by fifteen years of age, and generally married by the time he's sixteen. He will likely die by the time his children become men from sickness; only the rarest of individuals manage to cheat death and live past the age of 50. For that matter, people die from disease, festering wounds, perish in war, have their appendages hacked off and die of old age Ressurection, Raise Dead, Cure Disease - these common tropes of the Dungeons and Dragons world simply do not exist on a massive scale in Deismaar. However, as mankind realizes that the Well of Souls exists in a paradoxical parallel to Deismaar, he also knows that the dead are a mere touch away from our world. Men murmur of the Hurmasti, restless spirits that dwell between here and there, barely touching either the railings of Deismaar or the Well of Souls. They walk along the razor of the Weave, coexisting in both life and oblivion.
Elves, Dwarves, Gnomes, etc...they're real, but not in the same sort of ways that we've become to believe in the fantasy world. These "Lost Folk" are known by many different names, but all have one thing in common - they're xenophobic, and extraordinarily dangerous. The deadly Siabran and Carbaen folk, wicker mask-bearing worshippers of death, protect their sanctuaries with a cold neutrality and have never traded goods or met under the flag of peace with mankind. Even then, it's not like they're inviting folk to stumble into their extremely remote settlements...
Humanity is abound. The races of men inhabit a diverse variety of locales; from the Dunmen of Dunbrude, to the Gothric of the vast country of Goth Moran all the way to the remote ancient Zahara, the mannish races rule Deismaar. As creations by the Firstborn god Aldernon in the image of his Secondborn children, mankind truly rules this world. They fight back the wilderness, they conquer stone mountains, they burn and build and destroy the living world - all the while, fighting each other. One has to look no further than the Andals (and their children the Aradain and Dalefolk) to understand the impact that humans have had upon this fair world.
Politics is the core of the setting. There is no escaping the crook and cudgel of the branches of the Divine Source faith, no more so than the sword and shield of the Fifth House. Whereas the faith of mankind rules the spirit of our fair world, it is the same that government, ranging from kings, barons, counts and even pretender priest-kings, would call themselves the ruler of mankind.
War is everywhere. Ranging from the civil war amongst the loggers and the abolitionists of Walstania, to the inter-political house warfare of the Aradain in Aglador, to even the fight amonst the Fomorian for the tinyest rock within their barbarian kingdoms, if there was anything to be said about Deismaar, it is that war drives mankind. War drives commerce, war drives alliance, war drives war. There is no country that has been untouched by the hand of war generals, even the idyllic countrysides of Rhovania boils with hatred, prejudice and murder.
[/spoiler]
Alright from a strictly mechanical point of view, it really depends on how often you have to move blocks. If you do every time you cast a spell, It'll fall fairly often. I don't think you should put a major permanent penalty on something your forcing just to play the class.
If it can heal slowly (maybe recovers along similar lines to healing surges, I know you don't use healing surges, but a similar number kinda thing). This would probably help because having to keep a Jenga tower up as a permanent accessory to your mantel might be cool, it could get tiresome dusting.
As for effects, I think it could be something along the lines of a negative dice modifier for the encounter(s) following him falling the tower, maybe loss of dailies? Possible temporary stop of the natural 20 rule, removal of action points. Maybe a random of those effects, only removed through something difficult? And they stack so if he crumbles his tower twice without fixing the previous bit of insanity it stacks.
As for bonuses, maybe ever 2-4 new "levels" of the tower he gets to refresh a Power or some other bonus?
I think tweaking existing Paragon/Epic classes and new ones could be quite good. Maybe one where when you activate an Action Point you can skip moving a block after your next move?
Also, does this effect Encounter/Daily Powers only? Or At-wills as well?
This qualifies only for Ritual use. The players don't play Warlocks, Clerics or Wizards. However, I do plan to convert the Encounter and Daily powers to Rituals.
I do fancy the idea of pulling blocks and learning new Rituals, so that there is an element of enticement for a player to use a power and take a gamble.
Quote from: MonikerHowever, I do plan to convert the Encounter and Daily powers to Rituals.
I guess my point still stands, Encounter/Daily only.
Each time the tower crumbles a caster could accrue a madness point. A variety of penalties could be attached to various madness scores. 1-5? Nothing to worry about. 6-10? Maybe he gets a little eccentric or begins having minor hallucinations triggered in intense situations. 11-20 he could get paranoid and no longer tell friend from foe on a failed will save. 21+ he might be totally batshit crazy. Perhaps the madness effect "wears off" after a short while but the score doesn't go away - another crumble and he could go over the edge again. Only certain magical events could reduce a madness score.
You could always use the Sanity rules from the Unearthed Arcana.
When the tower falls you could roll for Long-Term Temporary Sanity Effects chart http://www.d20srd.org/srd/variant/campaigns/sanity.htm#typesOfInsanity . Those would be fun to role play.
I like the idea and the concept.
Looking at the Well of Souls, I might look at the idea of him gaingin power and being partially lost to this twisted mirror plane.
Now, even after reading through it and the religion, I don't know who rules in the Well of Souls. That will helps me understand who might be tempting him while pulling him closer.
Quote from: Vreeg's Coachwhip.I like the idea and the concept.
Looking at the Well of Souls, I might look at the idea of him gaingin power and being partially lost to this twisted mirror plane.
Now, even after reading through it and the religion, I don't know who rules in the Well of Souls. That will helps me understand who might be tempting him while pulling him closer.
The Well of Souls is where all gods dwell, although they do not take shape whatsoever. They are personified by their worshippers, but are truly nothing more than basic ideals deified. The Well of Souls is a place of intense power, akin to the Shadowfell in 4e in that the Hurmasti (living dead) take shape and dwell spiritually within the Well of Souls while taking physical shape in Deismaar. Belief is power, and if enough people believe it can shape and mold the world around them (ala Planescape but less in your face, secret of the multiverse sort of thing). It, in a sense, is both Heaven and Hell mirroring the living world. Death is seen as a passge into another life. Although the tenants of faith enforce the idea of ultimate judgement by the Custodian (the lady of life and death), belief is what dictates where and how a person lives onward after they die and pass into the Well.
It is a paradox because people technically dwell in both places at once. I plan to introduce at around mid-Paragon levels storyplots to allow the players travel between the two worlds, sort of like Legacy of Kain: Soul Reaver. This has a lot to do with the following spoiler -
The Super Secret Story
[spoiler]To give you some story background, the Captain (http://deismaar.pbwiki.com/The-Captain) is unwittingly being lured by a "man" calledthe Founder (http://deismaar.pbwiki.com/The+Founder). A promise of power, born from penal servitude, brough the Captain to the Founder's hand (you may want to read about the Kargat (http://deismaar.pbwiki.com/Kargat) to understand the full relationship, since technically my game revolves around them). The Founder is nothing more than an exarch of the god Demish (http://deismaar.pbwiki.com/Demish), the god of change and discord. The Founder is fashioning the Captain into the living embodyment of judgement and death. As the Captain uses his powers, the veil that separates the Well of Souls and Deismaar breaks down. The eventual goal is to facilitate the Last Cataclysm, where the two worlds become one.[/spoiler]
Why not link some sort of numeric value in the mechanics to the number of remaining Jenga levels? If there's five Jenga levels left after the Great Collapse, then five should be the number used in the mechanics of the consequence, if there's only three, then three should be used.
Why not have some great big bonus... alongside some horrible twisted penalty? You could do this a la Spiderman's famous Power/Responsibility dilemma, or you could do it a la Crush My Wish.
Why not both? If you keep track of the number of levels the tower has before the Great Collapse, you could have the number of remaining levels be associated with the bonus, while the number of fallen levels are associated with the penalty.
Regardless of what you ultimately decide to do, I suggest keeping it a secret from the player until the Great Collapse. If he has the metaknowledge beforehand, it might not impress him as much when the bricks hit the fan. That short moment of "... what happens now?", plus the realization of what actually does happen might prove to be a bit more fittingly dramatic.