Danger of Using a VTT

Before getting in to this let me be clear, virtual table tops (VTT) are awesome! They can add a new dimension to the game with graphics, they can help players by taking the burden of calculation for rolls, they can provide players with quick access to many details such as spell descriptions, and they can provide player and GM with support tools like online journals. At their best VTT are a great tool for player and GM.

That said…

The more enhanced a VTT becomes the more like a video game it can seem and this can lead to players treating the game like a video game. And RPGs are not video games.

For example, it is very easy for combat on a VTT to become a click slogfest. The VTT does much of the ’thinking’ for players, calculating and executing the various dice rolls. This is great, but it also risks turning combat into a sort of Final Fantasy turn based combat; select action, click to execute, wait for resolution, repeat.

This means players are missing out on what makes TTRPG combat to much bettenr than a video game, the out-of-the-box move, the unanticipated combination of characters abilities that no video game can possibly account for.

Case in point. I recently had a player falling in to the clickfest trap so I suggested their character, seeing a dragon near death hovering only ten feet above the ground at the foot of some stairs, might (rather than another round of crossbow fire) try a running leap, swinging their bastard sword at the creatures head. This prompted an epic description of the move with an equally epic outcome. Sure, nothing cunning or complex, but so much better than “I fire my crossbow”, click, for the tenth time.

It is easy to forget to role play if it is as simple as ‘click’ to cast a spell, fire a volley of crossbow bolts, or strike with a sword.

For the GM it is easy to tire of narrating the same “swing, hit, swing, miss” if players are just clicking away on screen.

One obvious solution to this problem is to remove all the distractions, use minimal VTT support. This strikes me as cutting of your nose to spite your face.

A better solution is to encourage narrative combat (in my experience it is in combat that this problem most often occurs). As with all things, this starts with the GM.

When planning your session, try thinking through your creatures motivation and possible battle plan. I recommend Keith Ammann’s books, start with The Monsters Know What They’re Doing, for inspiration on imbuing your creatures with more than a simple “stand and fight until one side is dead” combat style. This advice, at its most basic, is “your monsters are not crash-test dummies”. Creatures, even the most stupid, have at least a desire to survive (possible exceptions being undead) and most have a motivation for a fight; “protect the clan”, “protect the treasure/icon/hostage”, “protect territory”. Their motives drive their willingness to fight and their nature and training infuence how they fight; pack tactics, military unit. and so on. All of these considerations add colour to your narration and make your creature more than simple targets for characters. Hopefully when players see your creatures doing more than simply offering a target they will respond by being more creative with their combat.

And if they don’t. Well, you can just suggest a few things they “might like to try” until they get the message that they can try pretty much anything (especially true for players new to RPGs).

To reinforce this behaviour I try to reward immaginative combat tactics. Sure, the ranger leaping from the top of the stairs to strike the death blow to the dragon might fail but I decided that providing they made a fairly achievable DC12 athletics check they would kill the dragon outright.

With a lithe rolling leap Springthorn somersaults from the top of the stairs arcing over the head of Sentof the cleric. Light glints from the razor edge of his Bastard Sword as, at the height of his leap, he twists to plunge it into the dragon’s skull. The dragon screams in pain, eyes rolling in its head as it plunges to the ground. Springthorn releases his sword, tucks and rolls to the ground next to the mortally wounded dragon. As the dragon feebly tries to rise Springthorn reaches for his sword, now embedded in the dragon’s skull, and draws it out. Brainmatter and blood fountain from the jagged hole and the dragon collapses to the ground lifeless.

Now, I don’t know about you, but that was way more epic than “crossbow, click”.