Gaming, like any hobby, requires its own set of paraphernalia: Game Books, Miniatures, Dice, Play Mats and any number of other supplies. Friendly Local Game Stores (FLGS) supply these, but so to do any number of online sources.
But I feel that FLGS's do more than that. They provide a place for gamers to congregate and interact with others who share our hobby. I can't count the number of times that I have gone into a normal bookstore to buy gaming supplies and have had the employees there look at me like I was some sort of freak. I clearly remember going into Barnes & Nobels to buy a D&D book and had the girl behind the counter ask me, "So, you play D&D?" in the same tone of voice that she would have asked, "So, you eat human flesh?"
All people strive for a sense of community with like minded individuals, and a FLGS is the heart of that sort of community. Not only does it give us a place to gather, but also aids in bringing new gamers into the hobby, thereby insuring the survival of Gaming. It is important for us, as gamers, to recognize its importance; particularly today, when most gamers can find the products that a FLGS sell for a lower price online. It is important for gamers to give patronage to these small buisnesses, not just because they supply us with the supplies we need for our hobby, but also for the place they hold in maintaining the general health of gaming in our area.
Today, I discovered a new FLGS in the Greensboro Area: The Grinning Gamer. Located at 2416A Spring Garden St, The Grinning Gamer is everything I look for in a FLGS. Not only does it have a wonderful selection of games, minatures, dice and other gaming supplies, but the owner is a gamer himself. It is such a wonderful feeling to be able to purchase my gaming supplies and at the same time discuss the hobby with the shopkeep. Finally Greensboro has a truly friendly local game store again, and I call upon everyone to drop by and take a look at what they have to offer.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Friday, July 22, 2011
Of Gods and Men
For those of you that didn't know, I hold a Bachelors Degree in Religious Studies. Much of my time in college revolved around the study and understanding of religion in a real world context. It is a subject that I find endlessly fascinating, and as one would expect, that interest bleeds into my D&D.
I almost always begin the creation of a D&D world with the Gods, and their relationship with Mortals. In my longer running game world, Meaghana, the Gods are a constant presence in the world. In addition to providing their faithful clerics and paladins with magical powers, the Gods themselves are often manifesting on the world to interact with mortals. It is a world where being an Atheist is nearly impossible. How can one disbelieve in the existence of the Gods when one came to dinner last Thursday. In addition to this, there is little room for faith in such a world. By that I am using the definition of Faith as belief lacking definitive proof. When the presence of the Gods is so obvious, one has knowledge not faith.
This may or may not seem an important distinction to some of you, but there are some major side effects to this sort of world. The most important, in my opinion, is the certitude it provides heroes with. If you know heaven exists (possibly because you used magic to go there for your last vacation), then the power of being willing to sacrifice your life for a cause is somewhat lessened. It is the fear of the unknown that makes death so frightening, and thus makes sacrificing your life such a heroic action. If you know, with absolute fact, that you are going to heaven, then there is no real sacrifice. And that is my definition of a hero, one who is willing to sacrifice for the greater good.
This brings me to my new game world: Gorbaldin. I have done my best to present a completely different view of Gods there. The only evidence of Gods are the powers wielded by their clergy. Now, it can be argued that clerical magic provides the same sort of proof, but I would argue that in a world of arcane magic and magical beasts that the source of this magic is much more in doubt. And in that doubt, faith is born. In Gorbaldin, no one knows with certainty how the world was made, or where the dead go when they die. Travel between the planes is basically unknown, and even the faithful of the individual Gods disagree with each other on matters of dogma and religious history.
In such a world, faith is paramount. And I believe that such faith, whether it be in Gods or simply in a philosophy, can provide an amazing depth and poignancy to the actions of the heroes. In addition, the creation of Religion, without the direct influence of a divine entity, tells us more about the people who brought about that religion and serves to flesh out the game world at a very human level. And it is this level that deserves the most fleshing out, as it is the level that your players, and their characters are engaged in.
I almost always begin the creation of a D&D world with the Gods, and their relationship with Mortals. In my longer running game world, Meaghana, the Gods are a constant presence in the world. In addition to providing their faithful clerics and paladins with magical powers, the Gods themselves are often manifesting on the world to interact with mortals. It is a world where being an Atheist is nearly impossible. How can one disbelieve in the existence of the Gods when one came to dinner last Thursday. In addition to this, there is little room for faith in such a world. By that I am using the definition of Faith as belief lacking definitive proof. When the presence of the Gods is so obvious, one has knowledge not faith.
This may or may not seem an important distinction to some of you, but there are some major side effects to this sort of world. The most important, in my opinion, is the certitude it provides heroes with. If you know heaven exists (possibly because you used magic to go there for your last vacation), then the power of being willing to sacrifice your life for a cause is somewhat lessened. It is the fear of the unknown that makes death so frightening, and thus makes sacrificing your life such a heroic action. If you know, with absolute fact, that you are going to heaven, then there is no real sacrifice. And that is my definition of a hero, one who is willing to sacrifice for the greater good.
This brings me to my new game world: Gorbaldin. I have done my best to present a completely different view of Gods there. The only evidence of Gods are the powers wielded by their clergy. Now, it can be argued that clerical magic provides the same sort of proof, but I would argue that in a world of arcane magic and magical beasts that the source of this magic is much more in doubt. And in that doubt, faith is born. In Gorbaldin, no one knows with certainty how the world was made, or where the dead go when they die. Travel between the planes is basically unknown, and even the faithful of the individual Gods disagree with each other on matters of dogma and religious history.
In such a world, faith is paramount. And I believe that such faith, whether it be in Gods or simply in a philosophy, can provide an amazing depth and poignancy to the actions of the heroes. In addition, the creation of Religion, without the direct influence of a divine entity, tells us more about the people who brought about that religion and serves to flesh out the game world at a very human level. And it is this level that deserves the most fleshing out, as it is the level that your players, and their characters are engaged in.
Friday, July 15, 2011
The Great Quest... the day after.
Tomorrow will be the first game back after a two week break. Normally, I would have spent a great deal of time preparing for such a session, but this time I have done almost nothing. Part of the reason for that is that I have been very busy lately, but the other part is that the next part of my game is going to be more free form than the first half has been.
Up to this point in the campaign, the characters (who call themselves "The Champions of Light") have been travelling across the country seeking "Tholand's Keep" the ancient capital of their province, that has been lost for three centuries. As such, the sessions had been fairly well planned out, with each adventure bringing them a step closer to their goal. Each of these steps were laid out with great detail, as I knew exactly what sorts of dangers the trip posed to the heroes and what kind of encounters were likely to spring from them.
Last session, they discovered the keep and slew the crystal dragon that had been using it as a terrarium for its magical creations. At the end of the session, they returned home to bask in the glory of their heroics. Their first great quest being over, the Characters are now dealing with the repercussions of what they have achieved. This marks a change in the pacing of the sessions, with there being less geographic borders between the parties activities.
From a DM's perspective, it is not so important, at this point, to understand exactly what dangers are where and plan specific encounters for the Characters, but rather to understand the motivations of the characters (both Player Characters and NPCs) to determine how the actions and reactions of the next part of the story will flow.
This demands a different type of preparation than simply designing and filling a dungeon. It is much easier to create encounters and build traps than it is to have conflict organically grow from the interactions between characters. As such, rather than sit around and write up encounters like I would for a dungeon scenario, I like to spend time thinking like the antagonists would. It doesn't even have to specifically be about the events of the game. If you can begin to understand how a specific character would think about every day things, you get a much better understanding of how they will react to the actions of the Player Characters.
This is particularly helpful in those times where the DM is unsure of what sort of momentum and direction the PCs will be providing. For example, I know that the wizard of our group, one Cartwicket Schepder, is working on building his library to begin performing spell research, and that the Fighter, Valorius Leontius, plans to seek out a Grandmaster of the Bastard Sword to learn from; but these are personal quests and I am unsure of the steps that the Characters will take to achieve them. So rather than plan a great deal of specifics that they party may never encounter, I have developed the world itself. This way I can react to the player's desires and better present them with a game that will engage those wants.
This is actually one of those points in the game where too much preparation can actually be a bad thing. A good GM must be open enough to go with the flow that the players present him with, overplanning, or more precisely the wrong kind of planning, can make it very hard to do that. It is better, in my mind, to use your planning time to create and solidify the world of the game setting, than to plan specific adventures and encounters. That way, you can be assured that you are presenting an internally consistant world that will allow you engage your players, and the aims of their characters.
Up to this point in the campaign, the characters (who call themselves "The Champions of Light") have been travelling across the country seeking "Tholand's Keep" the ancient capital of their province, that has been lost for three centuries. As such, the sessions had been fairly well planned out, with each adventure bringing them a step closer to their goal. Each of these steps were laid out with great detail, as I knew exactly what sorts of dangers the trip posed to the heroes and what kind of encounters were likely to spring from them.
Last session, they discovered the keep and slew the crystal dragon that had been using it as a terrarium for its magical creations. At the end of the session, they returned home to bask in the glory of their heroics. Their first great quest being over, the Characters are now dealing with the repercussions of what they have achieved. This marks a change in the pacing of the sessions, with there being less geographic borders between the parties activities.
From a DM's perspective, it is not so important, at this point, to understand exactly what dangers are where and plan specific encounters for the Characters, but rather to understand the motivations of the characters (both Player Characters and NPCs) to determine how the actions and reactions of the next part of the story will flow.
This demands a different type of preparation than simply designing and filling a dungeon. It is much easier to create encounters and build traps than it is to have conflict organically grow from the interactions between characters. As such, rather than sit around and write up encounters like I would for a dungeon scenario, I like to spend time thinking like the antagonists would. It doesn't even have to specifically be about the events of the game. If you can begin to understand how a specific character would think about every day things, you get a much better understanding of how they will react to the actions of the Player Characters.
This is particularly helpful in those times where the DM is unsure of what sort of momentum and direction the PCs will be providing. For example, I know that the wizard of our group, one Cartwicket Schepder, is working on building his library to begin performing spell research, and that the Fighter, Valorius Leontius, plans to seek out a Grandmaster of the Bastard Sword to learn from; but these are personal quests and I am unsure of the steps that the Characters will take to achieve them. So rather than plan a great deal of specifics that they party may never encounter, I have developed the world itself. This way I can react to the player's desires and better present them with a game that will engage those wants.
This is actually one of those points in the game where too much preparation can actually be a bad thing. A good GM must be open enough to go with the flow that the players present him with, overplanning, or more precisely the wrong kind of planning, can make it very hard to do that. It is better, in my mind, to use your planning time to create and solidify the world of the game setting, than to plan specific adventures and encounters. That way, you can be assured that you are presenting an internally consistant world that will allow you engage your players, and the aims of their characters.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Classes, Kits and the Individual
Ask any Dungeons & Dragons player (of any edition) about their character and you will, no doubt, hear the name of the class that they are playing in the first sentence or two. Since the beginning of D&D the character class has been a very important part of the characters, being the source of the vast majority of the characters abilities, as well as aiding in providing archetypes for the characters.
In the early editions of D&D, those that came before second edition, the character class was the only source of definition for a character other than their race. (and in the very early editions, some of what we know as Races were classes then, such as the Elf and Dwarf) This made for a very simple and intuitive system, but made it sometimes difficult to distinguish one member of a certain class from another.
Second edition made some of the first steps to combat this perceived problem, with the introduction of proficiencies and kits. Proficiencies allowed the characters to have different skills, that were chosen by the player, even though the number of those skills were based upon the characters class and level. This could allow for one fighter to be a blacksmith and armorer, while another had more woodland based skills like hunting and trapping. This was the first real attempt at a mechanical means of differentiating individuals within a class.
The introduction of Kits was the next big step that 2nd edition made. A kit was a set of options that a player could choose that would change some of the abilities of the class that their character had. These kits were organized by which class that could take them, and were built around specific themes. For example: The Swashbuckler kit (for the Thief class) allowed the thief better combat abilities with rapiers and parrying daggers, and gave them bonuses to acrobatic abilities.
To balance out these bonuses some of the kits had mechanical disadvantages and some had simple roleplaying disadvantages. This lead to one of the larger concerns about kits, that if a particular DM did not enforce the Roleplaying disadvantages, some of the kits were simply much more powerful than others. This is a discussion for another time, but it does go to show the begining of the arguments for game balance.
Third edition took this idea of individuality a giant step forward with the invention of Feats and a much more fleshed out skill system. However, the systems they used for this were generally clunky and, in my opinion, added far more bookkeeping and rules minutae that was really needed.
Fourth edtion, in an effort to fight against the clunky rules of the previous edition, took a giant step backward, and created a simplification of classes that is reminicent of nothing more than the basic versions of the game. It was not that individuals of a certain class were difficult to differentiate, but that the classes themselves were difficult to tell apart simply from their abilties. It was not until many sourcebooks later that the classes began to differentiate themselves, with the intoduction of different class systems.
I personally think that the most elegant way of approaching this problem has been the kit system. I will not argue that there is nothing wrong with this system, but its optional nature makes it great for those who want some extra help in making their character unique without forcing it on those who have no problems doing so without mechanical aid. And one of the best parts for me, as a DM, is that it is relatively simple to create new kits as their are needed to flesh out the campaign world.
Like everything in D&D, it does require a DM who is willing to put the work into understanding the system and discovering which parts of it fit his particular campaign, but if used correctly the Kit system can add a great deal of depth to your game.
In the early editions of D&D, those that came before second edition, the character class was the only source of definition for a character other than their race. (and in the very early editions, some of what we know as Races were classes then, such as the Elf and Dwarf) This made for a very simple and intuitive system, but made it sometimes difficult to distinguish one member of a certain class from another.
Second edition made some of the first steps to combat this perceived problem, with the introduction of proficiencies and kits. Proficiencies allowed the characters to have different skills, that were chosen by the player, even though the number of those skills were based upon the characters class and level. This could allow for one fighter to be a blacksmith and armorer, while another had more woodland based skills like hunting and trapping. This was the first real attempt at a mechanical means of differentiating individuals within a class.
The introduction of Kits was the next big step that 2nd edition made. A kit was a set of options that a player could choose that would change some of the abilities of the class that their character had. These kits were organized by which class that could take them, and were built around specific themes. For example: The Swashbuckler kit (for the Thief class) allowed the thief better combat abilities with rapiers and parrying daggers, and gave them bonuses to acrobatic abilities.
To balance out these bonuses some of the kits had mechanical disadvantages and some had simple roleplaying disadvantages. This lead to one of the larger concerns about kits, that if a particular DM did not enforce the Roleplaying disadvantages, some of the kits were simply much more powerful than others. This is a discussion for another time, but it does go to show the begining of the arguments for game balance.
Third edition took this idea of individuality a giant step forward with the invention of Feats and a much more fleshed out skill system. However, the systems they used for this were generally clunky and, in my opinion, added far more bookkeeping and rules minutae that was really needed.
Fourth edtion, in an effort to fight against the clunky rules of the previous edition, took a giant step backward, and created a simplification of classes that is reminicent of nothing more than the basic versions of the game. It was not that individuals of a certain class were difficult to differentiate, but that the classes themselves were difficult to tell apart simply from their abilties. It was not until many sourcebooks later that the classes began to differentiate themselves, with the intoduction of different class systems.
I personally think that the most elegant way of approaching this problem has been the kit system. I will not argue that there is nothing wrong with this system, but its optional nature makes it great for those who want some extra help in making their character unique without forcing it on those who have no problems doing so without mechanical aid. And one of the best parts for me, as a DM, is that it is relatively simple to create new kits as their are needed to flesh out the campaign world.
Like everything in D&D, it does require a DM who is willing to put the work into understanding the system and discovering which parts of it fit his particular campaign, but if used correctly the Kit system can add a great deal of depth to your game.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Power of Perception
One of the most important jobs of the DM during the game is to describe the world as the characters experience it. Being that this is the only way that the characters have of experiencing the world, it behooves the DM to be as accurate as possible. However, it is important to make the distinction between the world as it is and the world as the characters perceive it to be.
Characters, like any person, are not all knowing, all seeing beings; and there is alot of mystery that the DM can take advantage of by recognizing this. For instance, a DM can describe a encounter as: "You guys are jumped by three ogres. Roll initiative." or "Three large, dirty humanoids step out from the tree cover, threatening you with large clubs seemingly made from an uprooted tree."
In addition to the second description allowing for more immersion, it allows the DM to keep the nature of the encounter a secret. This forces the players to react more appropriately to what their characters would see rather than allowing them to draw upon out of character knowledge to handle the encounter. This is particularly important with creatures that have special weaknesses, such as trolls. If a DM says the word Troll, out comes the torches and acid flasks faster than you can say, "Roll for Initiative".
Particularly in the types of locations that adventurers find themselves, it is not easy to get a clear enough look at your enemies to identify them with certainty. By using this sort of preception difficulties the DM can add a level of uncertainty and tension to their encounters, and by doing so you can provide an added level of engagement for your players.
Characters, like any person, are not all knowing, all seeing beings; and there is alot of mystery that the DM can take advantage of by recognizing this. For instance, a DM can describe a encounter as: "You guys are jumped by three ogres. Roll initiative." or "Three large, dirty humanoids step out from the tree cover, threatening you with large clubs seemingly made from an uprooted tree."
In addition to the second description allowing for more immersion, it allows the DM to keep the nature of the encounter a secret. This forces the players to react more appropriately to what their characters would see rather than allowing them to draw upon out of character knowledge to handle the encounter. This is particularly important with creatures that have special weaknesses, such as trolls. If a DM says the word Troll, out comes the torches and acid flasks faster than you can say, "Roll for Initiative".
Particularly in the types of locations that adventurers find themselves, it is not easy to get a clear enough look at your enemies to identify them with certainty. By using this sort of preception difficulties the DM can add a level of uncertainty and tension to their encounters, and by doing so you can provide an added level of engagement for your players.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Power of the Screen!
One of the longstanding arguments between players and DMs has been the presence of the DM screen. Often the screen seems to be the focus of attention when players discuss unfair or overly controlling DMs, and many DMs see the screen as a symbol of the position.
As a DM, I have nearly always used a DMs screen, and I feel that the screens are an important tool for the DM to have, for a number of reasons. Firstly is simply a matter of convienence. A DM is required to make so many rulings during a game session that it helps to have easy access to some of the charts and tables for the game. The DMs screen is a great way to accomplish this. I am aware that this is the least contentious of the reasons that a DM might use a screen for.
Second, in both order of importance and contention, is that the DM needs a way to be able to reference his notes for the adventure without the players seeing them. Again, no real problems from players on this point.
The third and most problematic use for a DMs screen is to hide the DM's dice rolls. Being able to fudge dice rolls is a commonly accepted tool in the DM's arsenal, but can be a dangerous one if misused. In my mind, fudging die rolls should only be used for the betterment of the game. However, this is a concept that is difficult for people to agree on. Some DMs believe that altering die rolls to make the combats more difficult for the players is better, and others alter them so as to remove any chance of failure or death from the players.
My personal opinion is that a DM should only fudge rolls when it is pure luck that is destroying a party. For instance if the party is performing well and then the fighter gets hit with three consecutive criticals that kills him, I would be inclined to reduce the damage or even make one or more of the criticals into normal hits. This prevents the party from being destroyed by pure chance. However, if the party's tactics were at fault I would be less likely to fudge the results, feeling that they got themselves into the mess.
The problem with this is that players can be a suspicious lot, and with the dice rolls hidden there is no way for them to know how exactly the DM is fudging rolls, or even if he is. This can lead to a certain amount of resentment on the part of the players, particularly if things are going bad for them. On the other hand, bringing down the screen does make things more difficult for the DM, as well as taking away some of the power of the DMs position by removing the ability to make those fudged rolls, or even to make suprise rolls without the player's knoweldge.
I am of the school of thought that the position of the DM is one of authority, and should come with it a certain amount of respect from the players. The DM's screen is one of the symbols of that authority. The player's should respect that, and trust their DM to run a fair game, or they should find another DM that can play with that they can trust.
As a DM, I have nearly always used a DMs screen, and I feel that the screens are an important tool for the DM to have, for a number of reasons. Firstly is simply a matter of convienence. A DM is required to make so many rulings during a game session that it helps to have easy access to some of the charts and tables for the game. The DMs screen is a great way to accomplish this. I am aware that this is the least contentious of the reasons that a DM might use a screen for.
Second, in both order of importance and contention, is that the DM needs a way to be able to reference his notes for the adventure without the players seeing them. Again, no real problems from players on this point.
The third and most problematic use for a DMs screen is to hide the DM's dice rolls. Being able to fudge dice rolls is a commonly accepted tool in the DM's arsenal, but can be a dangerous one if misused. In my mind, fudging die rolls should only be used for the betterment of the game. However, this is a concept that is difficult for people to agree on. Some DMs believe that altering die rolls to make the combats more difficult for the players is better, and others alter them so as to remove any chance of failure or death from the players.
My personal opinion is that a DM should only fudge rolls when it is pure luck that is destroying a party. For instance if the party is performing well and then the fighter gets hit with three consecutive criticals that kills him, I would be inclined to reduce the damage or even make one or more of the criticals into normal hits. This prevents the party from being destroyed by pure chance. However, if the party's tactics were at fault I would be less likely to fudge the results, feeling that they got themselves into the mess.
The problem with this is that players can be a suspicious lot, and with the dice rolls hidden there is no way for them to know how exactly the DM is fudging rolls, or even if he is. This can lead to a certain amount of resentment on the part of the players, particularly if things are going bad for them. On the other hand, bringing down the screen does make things more difficult for the DM, as well as taking away some of the power of the DMs position by removing the ability to make those fudged rolls, or even to make suprise rolls without the player's knoweldge.
I am of the school of thought that the position of the DM is one of authority, and should come with it a certain amount of respect from the players. The DM's screen is one of the symbols of that authority. The player's should respect that, and trust their DM to run a fair game, or they should find another DM that can play with that they can trust.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Dangers and Rewards of Time Off
As I have said in earlier posts, my current work schedule prohibits me from playing every week as I had once been accustomed to. So far it has forced me to take two consecutive weeks off of gaming out of every six. This is not bad, and frankly was better than I expected, but it does present some difficulties, as well as some unintended benefits.
The difficult thing about having to take breaks is that it gives the players (and often the DM) the opportunity to forget things about the story. This is particularly a problem if the current plot is an intricate one, with many hints and twists. By being forced to take multiple weeks away from the game, the DM runs the risk of having those twists lost, or overlooked. Because of this, a summation of the game at the beginning of each session is essential. With a proper summation, a DM can keep things fresh in the players minds, even if it has been some weeks since the last game.
The other difficulty, and one that I am notorious for is changing interests. People can be fickle, both players and DMs. When the game takes too long a break it increases the likelyhood that someone is going to either lose interested in their campaign, or current character. This can prove disruptive to the game, particularly if it is the DM that begins to lose interest. I combat this by attempting to work on things for the game, even during periods when we are not playing. This can be something simple as some background info, or even create full-blown adventures. Just do something to keep your mind engaged with the current campaign.
The unintended benefit of this type of break is that it has given me more time to put together my plot and adventure ideas. By following the above suggestions, I have been putting together adventure ideas a few weeks ahead of the actual game progression, allowing for me to slowly unveil them. It lets me be more prepared if the Players go off the beaten track, as I already know what's out there.
Taking an occasional break can be good for both the players and the game, but it is the DM responsibility to help maintain the excitement level for both himself, and the players during this time, so as to not have the game drift apart. The DM must use the time off wisely, and come back strong to re-engage his players attentions, and keep the game moving after such a break.
The difficult thing about having to take breaks is that it gives the players (and often the DM) the opportunity to forget things about the story. This is particularly a problem if the current plot is an intricate one, with many hints and twists. By being forced to take multiple weeks away from the game, the DM runs the risk of having those twists lost, or overlooked. Because of this, a summation of the game at the beginning of each session is essential. With a proper summation, a DM can keep things fresh in the players minds, even if it has been some weeks since the last game.
The other difficulty, and one that I am notorious for is changing interests. People can be fickle, both players and DMs. When the game takes too long a break it increases the likelyhood that someone is going to either lose interested in their campaign, or current character. This can prove disruptive to the game, particularly if it is the DM that begins to lose interest. I combat this by attempting to work on things for the game, even during periods when we are not playing. This can be something simple as some background info, or even create full-blown adventures. Just do something to keep your mind engaged with the current campaign.
The unintended benefit of this type of break is that it has given me more time to put together my plot and adventure ideas. By following the above suggestions, I have been putting together adventure ideas a few weeks ahead of the actual game progression, allowing for me to slowly unveil them. It lets me be more prepared if the Players go off the beaten track, as I already know what's out there.
Taking an occasional break can be good for both the players and the game, but it is the DM responsibility to help maintain the excitement level for both himself, and the players during this time, so as to not have the game drift apart. The DM must use the time off wisely, and come back strong to re-engage his players attentions, and keep the game moving after such a break.
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