Myth Direction: The Great Con

In my last post, I mentioned The Lies of Locke Lamora, a novel dealing, in part, with a series of elaborate cons pulled by a master thief.  Con artistry is a device that shows up in many stories; whether it’s tales of Coyote or Robin Hood or films about Bugs Bunny or Ocean’s Eleven, the Trickster is an archetypal figure, and one of his greatest tricks is to pretend, for an extended period, to be someone or something he’s not.

So, how does this translate to the game?

In fourth edition, the most obvious answer is to structure the con as a skill challenge.  This works well for smaller cons, which can be completed as a single encounter.  But if you wanted to run a more intricate and convoluted con, a single encounter just won’t do.  The players might need to meet key NPCs multiple times, perhaps over days or weeks; they might need to perform investigation or thievery in between; they might need to arrange distractions; they might need any number of other things.

The key is to approach the con as a “dungeon” of its own.  It will take multiple encounters to see it through.  Some of these encounters will be skill challenges; others will be roleplaying.  There might even be some combat involved.

The first step of running the great con is to firmly set the goal.  The players most likely already have this in mind, if they’re embarking upon this course.  For the purposes of illustration, let’s suppose that they want to steal the fortune of a corrupt, decadent count.

Their next step is to investigate.  They’ll want to learn what they can about the count.  This will be a skill challenge, with some roleplaying involved.  They might find out what the count’s people know about his habits (Streetwise).  They might try to bribe the count’s staff for information (Streetwise or Diplomacy).  They might disguise one of their number as a servant and infiltrate the count’s court to observe him (Bluff).

The characters should get some information either way.  If the skill challenge is failed, some of what they learn is simply incorrect or misleading.  This will likely throw a wrench into their plans later on, but — and this is important — it doesn’t derail the basic plot.  A failure at this early stage shouldn’t invalidate the whole story.  Just take note of it, and make it more difficult for the characters later.  This makes things more dramatic.

Armed with their knowledge, the players should construct a plan.  This could be a tricky part; usually a con focuses on one or two people at a time.  The game master should try to ensure that there’s something for everyone to do, even though a given character may need to “wait his turn” for the spotlight.  The plan should not rest entirely on a single character’s shoulders if the other players might get bored during its execution.  If the players come up with such a plan, you might ask outright what the others will be doing while it’s going on.  You might need to adjust circumstances on the fly to provide something for these characters to do.

For instance, if one player is going to be stationed outside as lookout, have a patrol wander by, or a guest of the count’s show up.  Instead of just standing around outside, that character now needs to find a way of diverting attention.  If he fails, the characters on the inside will be placed in more danger.

Back to our example for a moment.  Let’s say the characters have found that the count is a greedy man who rarely leaves his home — but he does make a weekly trip into town to look after some business.  He’s always accompanied by two guards and a scribe on these expeditions.  To set up the con, the characters decide that the rogue will play the part of a well-heeled businessman, the fighter his personal guard, and the priest a clerk.  The rogue and the priest will stage an argument over a business venture during the time they know the count will be in town, hoping to draw his attention.  The fighter may posture a bit in order to draw the guards away.  While that occurs, the wizard will speak with the count’s scribe, observing his mannerisms.  The plan is for the count to mediate the false dispute — no doubt in a manner that will enrich his own interests.  The priest, who will be on the losing side of the issue, will glower and stomp away, while the rogue effusively thanks the count for his assistance and praises his judgement.  And, by the way, he’s heard that the count is a man of business, and he wonders whether the count might be interested in investing in his latest venture.  You see, he owns the deed to a certain plot of land, where he’s discovered a deposit of diamond in one of the natural caves, but his own funds are tied up in other investments and he fears losing a favorable market.  Perhaps the count would like to put money into the venture in exchange for a share of the profits?

If all goes well, the count will invite the rogue to discuss matters further.  While he does, the others will track down the count’s scribe, and the wizard will be disguised to replace him, giving the party an ear close to the count for the furtherance of their plan.  The rogue will ask for, and probably receive, a relatively small amount of money, in exchange for which the count is assured a good return in the form of profits from the diamonds.  This entire process might be another skill challenge.

But the con’s just begun.  The rogue will visit his new friend the count, asking for additional funds; perhaps it’s close to harvest and he needs to offer more to hire the necessary miners.  Perhaps a wagon he supposedly owns breaks down, and he must have a replacement post-haste in order to bring the gems to market.  Perhaps his ship has foundered, and he requires the funds to hire a new one, and a crew with it.  He’ll come up with additional reasons for the count to invest, promising a greater share of the profit in exchange.  Now and then, he might even offer the count a “repayment” of some small amount, in order to keep his trust.

This is all well and good for the rogue, but what are the others doing?

Well, the wizard, now among the count’s household, has the chance to learn of a treasure greater than gold:  a rare tome among the count’s library.  He’ll want to lift it, if he can, or at least copy it.

The priest, continuing to pose as a clerk, begins to handle some of the count’s business, diverting his funds.  He begins subtly spreading the word that the count’s fortunes are diminishing.  The count’s creditors clamp down a bit for their own protection; he begins to find his funds tight.

The fighter poses as a bravo, and he and the rogue stage a mugging one afternoon — knowing that the count and his guards will witness the affair.  When the count arrives on the scene, the fighter throws the beaten rogue aside and runs, outdistancing the guards who pursue him.  Meanwhile, the rogue laments the loss of his purse — and his map to the mine.  It’s now vital, he says, to start operations immediately, before a rival does.  He implores the count to lend more to the cause, elevating him to full partner in return.  The wizard, disguised as the count’s scribe, “subtly” indicates what large profits the count is likely to derive from a 50% stake.

All of these can be run as roleplaying encounters and skill challenges.

The final step is the conclusion of the plan; having their victim’s money or possessions, the characters must escape.  This might be as straightforward as skipping town, or the players may want to stage another masquerade during which the rogue’s fictitious businessman “dies”  in hopes of averting attempts to seek vengeance.

Whatever the end result, the characters will have made an enemy.  He might be powerless to track them down, or they might fool him into not doing so, but if they should reappear in his area, he’ll no doubt take notice.  To the characters’ benefit, however, he may well keep the con a secret — many NPCs will be reluctant to admit that they’d been taken in in such a way.  The count may bear a smoldering hatred for the “businessman” who defrauded him, but he’s unlikely to complain to the king if he thinks that the king will feel that he has poor judgement.

An extended con consists of multiple encounters, and it could well be considered a major quest in addition; it’s not unlikely that the party will gain an entire level through executing such a scheme.  It can also make for a great plot arc.  Cons work well in intrigue- and stealth-focused games, but are also a fun diversion for more typical swords-and-sorcery games.  They typically involve little combat, so if your group includes many players who deeply enjoy combat, they might not be for you.

If combat is less insisted upon but still desired, though, you can always add a dramatic end to the encounter — perhaps the count realizes he’s been had, and a magical communication to the city’s gate guards ensures that the players need to fight their way out of town before the count’s men catch up to them.  If something went wrong during the information-gathering stage, or a subsequent skill challenge failed, maybe the count stumbles across the plot at the end, and he poisons the rogue during a final banquet/meeting.  With the rogue captured, the other characters must find a way to get him out of the count’s castle, while the rogue tries to figure out some means of escaping.

Even a successful con might have consequences.  The count’s henchmen might dog the party’s steps for some time, or he might post a bounty on the characters’ heads.  If the count’s learned of their true identities, they may find themselves needing to sneak out of the kingdom, and quickly.  Perhaps the count later discovers something the characters hold dear; he’ll do whatever he can to destroy it.  Maybe he’s so incensed that he even bargains with a devil for the characters’ deaths.  What will the party do when the forces of hell begin to hound them?

If they’re real Tricksters, maybe they’ll want to con the devils themselves…

Related posts:

1. Myth Direction: the Faerie Courts
2. Myth Direction
3. Myth Direction: Dragons’ Teeth
4. Myth Direction: Excalibur
5. Hacking Skill Challenges