The Campaign Builder's Guild

My players did something horrible once...  A bit of context though. This was a Reconquista style campaign that saw Humans, Dwarves and Elves beset by Tieflings who had swept up the peninsula and darn near conquered it. However, over the past hundred years, the Humans and Dwarves reconquered much of the land that had been lost. Much blood had been spilt by both sides and neither desired the other to live. A few sessions prior to this, the PC's bore witness to a Tiefling raid that butchered a caravan of '˜innocent' slave traders and their slaves (many of whom were elven children).

[spoiler= Really Mature/Gross content] [spoiler=Seriously] [spoiler=Very Seriously]The three PCs were polymorphed into Tieflings so they could gain entrance into a cave that housed a powerful magical Orb. Unfortunately, the Cave was deep in Tiefling controlled lands and there was no way to get in except by entering through the front gate. One of the PCs wore a ring (that he had picked up in a previous adventure), a ring that belonged to a Tiefling Duke. When the PCs walked up to the cave entrance, one of the guards recognized the ring, and began to prostrate. When asked why he was doing this, the Tiefling explained that the Duke was the ruler of these lands and that he (and he alone) had sole dominion over its people.

Knowing Tiefling customs, the PC in question demanded the guard stop prostrating and sing folk songs (a very common request (Tieflings love song)). Without question, the guard began to sing. The PC then commanded the other guard to kiss the first guard. After some hesitancy, the second guard gave the first a peck on the cheek. The PC posing as the Duke shook his head and said 'kiss [the first guard] as you kiss your wives. The second guard wavered but gave in to his lord's order and commenced with the kissing.

After a good 5 minutes of the players laughing hysterically, they commanded the second guard to cut out the tongue of the first Tiefling, then gather enough wood to start a fire with which to cook the tongue; once cooked, the tongue was to be fed to its original owner.

Famished from their lordly exploits, the PCs asked to go to the nearest Tiefling village; once there, they ordered all of the females to strip naked so that the Duke could create a new harem for himself and pass the remaining women onto his two companions (to do with as they pleased). Two of the PCs simply (ab)used the women to their pleasure. One, however, asked the first guard (from before) to point out his family. The PC then commanded, in the name of the Duke, that his family should have relations with one another while the tongue-less Tiefling watched helplessly. When the family was spent the PC ordered the tongue-less guard to gouge out the eyes of his family, then disembowel each in turn.

While this was going on, the first two PCs gathered all of the villagers into the town hall and ordered them to stay put no matter what. The PCs then lit the building on fire and listened as 50 tieflings cried out in horror, shock, hatred and pain. When all was said and done, only the tongue-less guard remained alive.

Just as the PCs were wrapping up their (for lack of a better word) unscrupulous activities in the village, a patrol of Tiefling soldiers chanced upon the ruined village. Horrified, they flung themselves against the unprepared PCs. Sheer numbers led the Tieflings to victory. It was revealed to the PCs (who's polymorph was dispelled by a mage) that one of the women in the village was chosen as the King's latest acquisition for his Harem. The cost of killing her would be great. The PCs were unceremoniously brought before the King and his whole Court; the King condemned each PC to 10,000 consecutive slow and painful deaths while wearing Dalcat Amulets (which paralyze the wearer and chain their souls to their bodies).

Each morning, the PCs would have a rope tied to their necks and then be dragged through the streets from the prison tower to the King's castle (about a quarter of a mile separated the two buildings). While being dragged the commonfolk were free to throw rocks at the helpless PCs. Once in the Royal Castle, the PCs would have their tongues cut out, then forced down their gullets just prior to being shoved into a dark pit filled with a hundred ravenous rats who slowly ate each PC while they were helpless to resist. When the sun finally set, the PCs would be levitated out of the pit and have their wounds stitched together by clerics, with the clear understanding that the whole process would begin again in the morning. [/spoiler]  [/spoiler] [/spoiler]

Needless to say, this was the absolute low point of my DM career. My group is not normally like this (though in the past, they have slain orc and goblin children in cold blood), so I must admit I was fascinated to see my players, who had obviously been corrupted by absolute dominion over a people they hated with a passion, go to such depraved lengths for their jollies (and/or revenge).  

To this day I'm still not sure the Players truly grasp what they did (or even if they care)'¦ So I suppose my overall point might be that my players allowed me to forget that this was a game . I felt for those Tieflings, even though they were all nameless and unimportant in the grand scheme of things, I felt for each and every one'¦ Which is why I probably handed down such a stiff sentence but that's a totally different topic.

EE,

First off, this shows that it can go both ways.  The GM often must be able to feel the reality of his/her setting before the players can.
[ic=me, earlier]
There have been noble last stands allowing the rest of the party escape ( a mute artist/knight of the Order of Stenron named Nighttimer comes to mind), marriages and relationships involving PCs, incredible friendships...again, it is not horror or anger that is acting by itself, it is emotional immersion. A GM has to be the leader here, he must feel for and with the PCs and NPCs. The actions of the NPCs should spring fully formed from the GM's meld with that NPCs person. [/ic]

I also think that when you handed down the sentence you did, you were channelling the King pretty well.  He had seen the actions of the PCs to his people, and had responded accordingly.


I have many of my own ideas what makes a good or bad setting, and a good or bad GM.  One of the easiest tests for me is the  interaction between pcs and oppponents.  If every orc or lizardman the PC's fight is the same despicable, human hating, traditional Chaotic-evil, mindless thug...something is missing.
This, by the way, is the same as if every LG priest they run into is pure love stupid, unable to preceive the necessary cost-benefits of the world.


EE, I also like fact you brought up the acts of War, caps intentional.  I very carefully and intentionally integrated some traditionally 'evil' races into the population of Celtricia, with the understandiong that once, these 'ogrillite' races were the soldiery of Darkness, but that millenia had passed, and orcs (orcash), Bugbears (gartier), and Ogres (Ograk) (as well as Gnollic and Goblins in some areas) could be found in town as well as holing up in old mines.
 
It changes things.  

I've always liked the idea of using our games to explore racisim, propaganda, culturalism, and nationalism.  There were and are 'humanist' (anti-humanoid) elements in Celtricia, as well as prgressive integrated groups. The game is as real and immersed as you make it.
 

Much as I normally like deep immersion games, I think it's important to realize that's not the only approach. Making your players forget it's a game is not necessarily always the goal of gaming. They may want a so-called Beer and Pretzels game and an emotional roller-coaster may not be fun for them. And really, fun is the reason to play games. Anything which is not fun, that's when you've really missed the boat.

Quote from: PhoenixMuch as I normally like deep immersion games, I think it's important to realize that's not the only approach. Making your players forget it's a game is not necessarily always the goal of gaming. They may want a so-called Beer and Pretzels game and an emotional roller-coaster may not be fun for them. And really, fun is the reason to play games. Anything which is not fun, that's when you've really missed the boat.

[ooc](Insert Capt Sobel voice from BoB episode 1 when someone tells him their group can climb over the barbed wire fence)
 "Really, We play for fun?"  [/ooc]

Phoenix, you may be responding to my overt zeal and absolutism, trying to provide a moderating influence.  Fine,  Normally I would not really care.  I freely admit that once in a while, I need a modulating influence, and you are certainly good for that (amongst other things, of course).

But this is a setting design site, and a setting design thread.  And while any asshole or middling-level GM can create a shallow campaign, one of the most difficult elements a GM and setting creator has to deal with is the creating of immersion, emotional and otherwise.  I can agree that sometimes different levels of violence and depth fit different GM and different groups, but we're trying to pinpoint elemets of a really difficult-to-master design end-goal.  

Immersion does not equal fun.  Immersion does, to a large degree, equate to involvement and investiture.    

Much love to Phoenix, BTW, for all the hard work on the CBG, and for all the refereeing you do.  

Quote from: Elemental_ElfMy players did something horrible once... [...]

WTF?! I mean... seriously... come on! :huh:

If I had been the GM I'd have nonchalantly taken their character sheets, ripped them to pieces and told them to GTFO of my home (or pick up my stuff and leave). I'd seriously not bother wasting my time with freaks wanting to play out some perverted torture fantasies - and I'd tell that any player right into the face if he pulled such a stunt at my table.

"He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you."
--Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil, Aphorism 146

I wouldn't have bothered with dishing out some sort of (in that situation absolutely irrelevant) ingame punishment - I'd have ended the campaign right there and refused to do any DMing for them again. Congratulations, your players have finally completed their long journey to the Dark Side (tm). *shudder*

You ask, why I would react that harshly to such ingame actions? Because stuff like this completely sucks the fun for me out of the game. While I'm not objected to run "Evil" campaigns (at least in theory, so far none of my players had the balls to try it...) I don't want to merely provide a stage for people to live out some wierd torture and maiming fantasies. Just as not every actor is comfortable or willing to impersonate a mass murderer, torturer, or rapist I am not comfortable with such characters in my campaign.

And because I know how much such actions/descriptions suck if you're not comfortable with them, I abstain from using them myself as the DM. Instead of describing in utter detail how a person was tortured to death I simply say "and you realize that the poor victim must have suffered through hours of pain and agony before finally succumbing to his wounds". That's imho enough to allow the players to get involved emotionally, without grossing them out.

Addendum:
The situation described in the OP also throws up a very problematic situation: if the villain knows that the PCs oppose him, and he can get that close to them that easily, why the heck doesn't he simply kill them off? Why does he allow them to live any longer and possibly thwart any of his plans? The "stupid villain" trope strikes again?

Further, it would induce a feeling of complete powerlessness in the players, as they've just been given the proof that they are opposing a force that can readily and easily finish them off without breaking a sweat and there is nothing their characters can do about it. Why should they continue fighting their fight against this all powerful and (supposedly) all knowing villain?

As I said, I like deep immersion (most of the time).

But I've seen good games ruined by trying too hard to force players into it. Hence the advice, make sure you and the players both want something like that before getting into it.

And I don't think casual gaming is incompatible with good setting design--or good game design.

Quote from: Ra-TielFurther, it would induce a feeling of complete powerlessness in the players, as they've just been given the proof that they are opposing a force that can readily and easily finish them off without breaking a sweat and there is nothing their characters can do about it. Why should they continue fighting their fight against this all powerful and (supposedly) all knowing villain?

I don't know, why should anybody even try to oppose some great evil? Frodo and Sam should of just turned tail and ran back to Rivendell, likewise for old Bilbo when faced with the horrors of mirkwood. What makes such a story of worthwhile is the fact that (keeping with the Tolkienian flow of things here) "Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something. That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo... and it's worth fighting for." Maybe the BBEG can finish you off, but you're going to give him hell before he does... because if you don't, more innocents will suffer, and you might just succeed no matter how small a chance you have.

You want to make your group do that, you make em angry at the bad guy and watch them surprise you. You might just end up crafting a legend with them, their epic struggle vs evil.

-----

Oh and as an aside I agree that immersion does not equal fun. It can create fun but if forced can ruin it, and the point of a game is to have fun. So like has been said, it depends on your players. Sometimes people just want to run a stupid good slashfest with beer and pizza for all. Those can be fun too.

Did anyone in the LotR-verse face Sauron personally? No. They'd have died. Lucky for them, Sauron was nailed to the floor and could only send proxies of varying degrees of defeatability.

See above, the mechanics behind this give the villain effective omnipotence. You roll in secret every night until someone fails = it happens regardless and you may as well not roll for it.

Also, see again how the PCs are idiots for taking a little girl on their trips, and how the villain's world apparently revolves around the PCs (which is kind of shallow villain motivation... something I think would break immersion.)

As for the ordering people to do things... I see a handful of problems... everyone recognised the ring, but no one recognised the noble's face? Additionally, unless it is magically enforced, most peoples' loyalty (even most fascists' loyalty) would break under these circumstances. A few would resist... and then the rest would get the hint that everyone wants these suddenly imperious bastards dead... and then nothing would stop them from killing the party. Absolute loyalty to a stranger in the absolute absence of an enforcement method to the point of staying in a burning building or killing family or what have you? Would break immersion for me. A few individuals might have that kind of loyalty, but not a whole town.

Out of time for the moment, but I've got my own stories to share when I get back later.

Quote from: beejazzSee above, the mechanics behind this give the villain effective omnipotence. You roll in secret every night until someone fails = it happens regardless and you may as well not roll for it.

Also, see again how the PCs are idiots for taking a little girl on their trips, and how the villain's world apparently revolves around the PCs (which is kind of shallow villain motivation... something I think would break immersion.)
[/quote]

See above about taking a little girl on their trips. Also, sorry I don't see how the villains world revolves around the PCs just because he decides to toy with them. That's like saying a cat's world revolves around some random mouse it is playing with. The mouse is certainly totally focused on the cat but the cat is probably only paying a little attention to the mouse. Hence you have both motivation of anger (which often creates immersion) and a way to justify them being able to defeat this "cat" despite his obvious abilities (his lack of attention drawn from his pride in his abilities).

Quote from: Nomadic[...] It just becomes more likely if the PCs are lazy or think they can protect her. [...]

in the PCs own campsite[/i], why on earth do you think the players would think they'd have a chance to notice another PC being killed at night? :huh:

A possible dialog between the players and the GM after such an event is imho much more likely to go like
[ooc]"Oh fine, the BBEG can walk right up into our camp and kill the girl without Mr "I don't need to sleep and have Perception +29" Elven Ranger here even noticing it? Great, how are we supposed to protect us from such an enemy? Why don't you just CdG everyone as we apparently can't do anything against it anyway!"[/ooc]
rather than
[ooc]"That was really immersive. We'll surely kill that bastard!"[/ooc]
;)

Also, depending on the game system you may even be outright breaking several rules that would have allowed the PCs to intervene or at least notice/react to the intrusion of their campsite. I really don't think that it's a good idea to undermine the players' trust in the rules in such a way as it may lead to frustration and resignation ("we can't do anything about it, Plot ex Machina"). If the players fail to set up a nightwatch or neglect their protection in a hostile environment and additionally rolled extremely bad for their Perception checks and the assassin abducted the girl, killed her, and later returned the body, then it's a whole different story because then it played out in accordance to the rules and wasn't superimposed on the PCs. But the situation as described in the OP does not add to the game, quite the contrary imho.

Quote from: Ra-Tiel...snip...

Let's please get back on topic. We can argue semantics all day about this but it is getting more and more off topic. The OP was a quickly thought up example and tearing it apart for loopholes is a bit silly. :P

I find the idea of immersion quite a complex one. In the game I run, I would say that the players certainly care about their characters, certain NPCs, events in the world, et cetera. I think that is one level of immersion.

However, at the same time, during sessions there are often off-topic interjections, out-of-character jokes, and the like. Technically, this would, I suppose, be indicative of a lack of immersion.

However, I'm more inclined to think that, in our case, anyway, it's simply that the immersion is a little more abstracted than it might otherwise be.

I'm not quite sure what I've actually ended up saying with this post, now, but hey, it's nearly half past two, and my eyes are a little heavy, I'm sure I'm allowed to not quite make sense :)

I suppose my general (if vague) point is, what exactly is it we're talking about when it comes to immersion? How much does immersion and, as it might be thought of, "true" or "hardcore" roleplaying need to overlap? I suppose, in my example, I'm saying not too much...

I don't think the point is entirely semantic. When you start talking about deliberately provoking the players' emotions, it is really easy to miscalculate, to misjudge your group, or otherwise seriously err-- to profound negative effect.

[spoiler=this time it is just semantics though]The thread title is a little strange; obviously "just a game" is exactly what it is. What we're aiming to do, in this thread, is to draw people further into an imaginary world, not to encourage them to commit fully to a "real" one.

It is a minor distinction, but I think it's a telling one; we run into problems if we forget which world is real and which is the story-- such as by offering (in the name of "realism") graphic or gruesome tidbits to a group who finds them distasteful.[/spoiler]

I've found that an effective way to "draw people in" (without buckets of red-dyed corn syrup from the props department) is to create a mystery.

Now, creating a situation that's as baffling to the players as it is to their characters has its own pitfalls, certainly. (That's probably a topic for another thread.) But spin a tangled-enough web, such that the players are wondering aloud (and quite OOC-ly, too!) about whether the mysterious Man In Grey can be trusted, whether the helpless-seeming noble is the schemer at the center of the web, or where the callous guardsman's loyalties lie, and they'll be up and alert at the gaming table. There seems to be little middle-ground, in a certain type of mystery game, between frenetically shouting whodunit theories and being fast asleep (and any competent narrator can shift that dynamic in the desired direction).

Players are good at jumping to conclusions, filling in crazy theories after the fact. As a GM, I often find it best suits my purposes to let their wildest, craziest conclusions be correct, even if it means shifting parts of the story they weren't yet aware of to make it so. When their theories are borne out over the course of the game's exciting conclusion, they'll think they're geniuses for figuring out your bizarre scheme, and they'll think you're a genius for concocting it to begin with. Everybody wins.

By way of example, I ran a game a year or so ago where, after a few sessions of running afoul of various cultist minions (often disguised) amid random townfolk, the players discovered evidence that the villain they tracked, whose identity they still didn't quite know, could steal faces. Like, literally, I steal your face and afterwards I can perfectly disguise myself to look like you, and you also have no face anymore, the front of your head is just blank.

Take a moment to consider just how creepy that actually is.

So the players discover that their enemy can steal faces, and can potentially look like anyone. They wrack their brains, going over the last few sessions of material, searching their memories for every NPC that I might have cleverly planted weeks ago that might be the shapeshifting face-stealer in disguise. They suspect the innocent noblewoman (correctly), the ascetic monk (incorrectly), the pregnant refugee on the train (absurdly)... on and on down the list. Their paranoia knew no bounds!

So I let them be correct, and inflated the conspiracy to much grander proportions than I had originally planned.

When they finally defeated the foul creature, and it begged for its unnatural life before them, it shifted through various guises during its supplication-- most of the ones they'd suspected, and a few they hadn't, for good measure. Mostly because I wanted to confirm their suspicions without just telling them, OOC, that they'd been correct; not at all because I expected them to grant mercy to this villain after all the mayhem it had caused (they didn't).

Quote from: Luminous CrayonI don't think the point is entirely semantic. When you start talking about deliberately provoking the players' emotions, it is really easy to miscalculate, to misjudge your group, or otherwise seriously err-- to profound negative effect.

[spoiler=this time it is just semantics though]The thread title is a little strange; obviously "just a game" is exactly what it is. What we're aiming to do, in this thread, is to draw people further into an imaginary world, not to encourage them to commit fully to a "real" one.

It is a minor distinction, but I think it's a telling one; we run into problems if we forget which world is real and which is the story-- such as by offering (in the name of "realism") graphic or gruesome tidbits to a group who finds them distasteful.[/spoiler]

I've found that an effective way to "draw people in" (without buckets of red-dyed corn syrup from the props department) is to create a mystery.

Now, creating a situation that's as baffling to the players as it is to their characters has its own pitfalls, certainly. (That's probably a topic for another thread.) But spin a tangled-enough web, such that the players are wondering aloud (and quite OOC-ly, too!) about whether the mysterious Man In Grey can be trusted, whether the helpless-seeming noble is the schemer at the center of the web, or where the callous guardsman's loyalties lie, and they'll be up and alert at the gaming table. There seems to be little middle-ground, in a certain type of mystery game, between frenetically shouting whodunit theories and being fast asleep (and any competent narrator can shift that dynamic in the desired direction).

Players are good at jumping to conclusions, filling in crazy theories after the fact. As a GM, I often find it best suits my purposes to let their wildest, craziest conclusions be correct, even if it means shifting parts of the story they weren't yet aware of to make it so. When their theories are borne out over the course of the game's exciting conclusion, they'll think they're geniuses for figuring out your bizarre scheme, and they'll think you're a genius for concocting it to begin with. Everybody wins.

By way of example, I ran a game a year or so ago where, after a few sessions of running afoul of various cultist minions (often disguised) amid random townfolk, the players discovered evidence that the villain they tracked, whose identity they still didn't quite know, could steal faces. Like, literally, I steal your face and afterwards I can perfectly disguise myself to look like you, and you also have no face anymore, the front of your head is just blank.

Take a moment to consider just how creepy that actually is.

So the players discover that their enemy can steal faces, and can potentially look like anyone. They wrack their brains, going over the last few sessions of material, searching their memories for every NPC that I might have cleverly planted weeks ago that might be the shapeshifting face-stealer in disguise. They suspect the innocent noblewoman (correctly), the ascetic monk (incorrectly), the pregnant refugee on the train (absurdly)... on and on down the list. Their paranoia knew no bounds!

So I let them be correct, and inflated the conspiracy to much grander proportions than I had originally planned.

When they finally defeated the foul creature, and it begged for its unnatural life before them, it shifted through various guises during its supplication-- most of the ones they'd suspected, and a few they hadn't, for good measure. Mostly because I wanted to confirm their suspicions without just telling them, OOC, that they'd been correct; not at all because I expected them to grant mercy to this villain after all the mayhem it had caused (they didn't).

Now that is an awesome example. The mystery evokes a feeling of paranoia in the players and the reveal gives them a sense of pride. Great tie together those two.

Quote from: beejazzDid anyone in the LotR-verse face Sauron personally? No. They'd have died. Lucky for them, Sauron was nailed to the floor and could only send proxies of varying degrees of defeatability.

I misspoke... yeah... in LOTR it's all proxy battles. Mental battles with a weakened foe whose only *direct* weapons are despair, temptation, and surveillance are on the level of proxy battles IMO.

Quote from: beejazzSee above, the mechanics behind this give the villain effective omnipotence. You roll in secret every night until someone fails = it happens regardless and you may as well not roll for it.

There are a handful of problems that remain.
1) Making up a new way to fail as the situation demands: You would never roll to stay awake under normal circumstances. Feels metagamey and immersion breaking.
2) Critical fail rules for the villain are at least a step in the right direction... away from perfect knowledge of whether or not he's detected.
3) What is a little girl doing out in this wilderness.
4) The villain stalked the PCs into the woods to mess with them. I get the cat and mouse bit... but this cat is in the walls. It's lots of focus and energy spent on something ostensibly unimportant. When it comes to villains, I find it much more natural to assume that the enmity arises from the villain pursuing schemes unrelated to the PCs that the PCs get in the way of for some reason or another.

If I tried this particular *brand* of trying to impact the players, I would not roll to stay awake unless I had established that precedent. If there was no watch for some reason, I would allow rolls to wake up during the event. No roll necessary once things get underway, just a chance for the foe to get a surprise round. Then there would be a hungry bear (or owlbear) instead of a stalker villain. If you're working suddenly, the moment of panic might be the better way to go than the plot device in hopes of a vendetta.

What I'm saying is that if I pulled this on my players, I think the girl and the villain come across as shallow plot-device characters. And to bring this back around to the original topic, I am of the opinion that if you want to have an emotional impact the quick fix pales in comparison to the slow buildup.

In my last campaign, fairly early on, the party left the dungeon being chased by a horde of ghouls that had recently been released (not so much chased as the ghouls come out in droves at sunset). They took shelter in the home of a family of peasant farmers. Then the ghouls came demanding the urn the party had taken from the dungeon (the urn was the thing that "released" the ghouls when it was stolen). Anyway, I had intended for some hide-and-seeking in the fields against some uncountable horde of ghouls when the players went for the quick fix and burned the fields down. A handful of family members died and the NPC farmer family had no food nor way of making money. I played up the sob story a tiny bit, and out of guilt, some of the kinder members of the party actually took these guys back to town and set them up with a bakery. Innit cool?

Fast forward to much later when the blackhand gang (working for the rich Merton Blaggart who has teamed up with the Barber Isenbecker in the hopes that the latter will bring his dead girlfriend back to life) is posing as the clergy of a new faith and distributing bread and soup in the midst of a famine. The PCs find out that the bread and soup are tainted with stuff that will turn those who eat it into more ghouls... and it's being made by the family of farmers (who have no idea what they're doing... but the "Path of Light" provides grain, money, and that weird grey stuff they call a "nutritional supplement"). The revulsion of the players as they watched one of the young men of the family munching on a loaf of bread was palpable. And then the party had to attack a bunch of benevolent clergy working a soup kitchen in front of a mass of starving people... fun times. They got a little overzealous maybe... not killing townfolk (they would not have hesitated to do that earlier in the campaign) but actually successfully kidnapping the rich Blaggart.

I'll type up more little stories later if anyone's interested, but yeah. IME it's all about the buildup. In this particular example, they knew that Blaggart wanted Ms. Fairweather... they investigated Ms. Fairweather's murder. They saw Isenbecker's corpse hanging from the rafters and met him when he came back from the grave (he scared them so much it took the events of the above anecdote to convince them to confront him). They helped Blaggart become wealthy by fixing illegal gladiatorial matches. The final plotline had many characters the PCs had befriended initially being either hurt or manipulated by the villain, and because the PCs had helped establish the situation by their own peculiar combination of successes and failures they felt more involved and more responsible than they would have if I had rushed it.