tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31374277172038521002024-03-05T18:34:50.079-08:00Telluric CurrentsUnearthing Trends and Topics in RPGsKeith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.comBlogger46125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-72386012892673380962012-03-11T14:00:00.001-07:002012-03-11T14:00:38.352-07:00The Mechanics of Failure<br />
I’ve got about 25 years of experience in graphic arts, and using graphic-related software. In gaming terms I figure I’m a paragon-level graphic artist. Maybe 15th level? My software tools have evolved over time, as has my mastery of them. Every once in a while I’m called on to create materials for a presentation. This usually involves a certain program from a large software company that is, to put it mildly, less-capable as a graphic art application than my primary tools. It’s like picking up a weapon in an RPG that you aren’t proficient with. Yes, I can make graphics with it, but it’s like putting oven mitts on the hands of a violinist and asking him to play some Bach.<br />
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On Friday I was asked to step in for a coworker to finish a presentation for an end-of-day deadline. A presentation for a major brand. A presentation that was going to be projected on 45-foot wide screen in front of who knows how many people. Being the team player I am, I said “sure” and dove in. People started feeding me input and edits. It was quickly apparent that I was expected to work at the same pace, and with the same facility as my coworker. I sat there and imagined the oven mitts on my hands. An hour into it, with the deadline approaching, I realized I was going to fail. The d20 had been rolled, and it was showing a one. I raised a white flag, called my coworker back out of her crucial meeting, and explained the situation.<br />
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At this point, the team began to rally around and reorganize the effort. I took a portion I felt I could handle. Others stepped into the crucial meeting. The bases got covered and the presentation was completed on time.<br />
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Had this been an RPG encounter, my character would have been forced to pick up the Flail of Undead-Slaying, step up to the dragon (knowing full well that my lack of proficiency with the flail, coupled with the undead-centric nature of the weapon weren’t going to help me against a dragon) and take my best shot. And I rolled a one.<br />
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However, in many RPGs characters can be – and often are – built to avoid all prospects of failure. Players expect to succeed, and they micro-engineer their characters to ensure their success. In the various rulebooks for WotC’s 4e D&D they explain the roles that various character classes fulfill, and the concept of making sure that each player has time in the spotlight. The idea was to make the game more inclusive. Unfortunately, one of the side effects has been this idea that the spotlight shines exclusively on success.<br />
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Narratively speaking, failure builds tension. Like it did for me with the presentation assignment. The spotlight was on me. It highlighted my failure, and my coworkers rallied around me, allowed me the opportunity to identify a way I could help achieve the objective, and we carved out a win from what appeared to be a potential loss. In the moment, I felt like crap. It’s no fun to fail, after all. But in the end, with the teams’ success, I ended up feeling pretty good about it.<br />
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So why are gamers afraid to fail? Why do game designers feel compelled to craft systems that emphasize mastery and success so much that the possibility of failure is all but eliminated? I’d love to hear your thoughts on this.<br />Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-76367524552103289772012-02-21T05:00:00.000-08:002012-02-21T05:00:03.869-08:00Three Pillars of Role-Playing Gaming<br />
If you were to break down most RPGs or gaming sessions, the three most common activities you’d encounter would be combat, exploration, and (social) interaction. Cover these three with some kind of game mechanics (emphasis up to you, depending on your players or personal preferences) and you’re likely to end up with a playable RPG. The complexity of the mechanics can be up to you as well, and may depend on your preferred gaming style. To use some of the more-established gamer lingo for style preferences, you might choose <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/GNS_Theory#Simulationism">simulationist</a> — where your focus is on recreation of specific genres or modeling the minutiae of the setting; <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/GNS_Theory#Narrativism">narrativist</a> — where the story and character background are the foundation; or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/GNS_Theory#Gamism:_Prove_Yourself">gamist</a> — where the game mechanics themselves are the highlight.<br />
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In general, you can see how the pillar activities align with play styles: Combat with gamism; exploration with simulationism; and interaction with narrativism. Common sense says that creating a game that plays well all three ways is extremely difficult, highly unlikely, or a fool’s errand, at best. Is there a demand for such a game, and if so, wouldn’t it already have been created?<br />
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The gaming groups that I play in include a fairly wide cross-section of gaming styles and rules preferences. The games I run tend to include all three activity pillars, with a preference for combat. The games I aspire to run have some kind of mechanic that links the three pillars. A way for players to find their niche in the game, their moment in the spotlight, in an activity that interests them. 4e D&D did a nice job of setting up each type of character with an opportunity to contribute meaningfully in combat, but neglected the other two pillars of RPGs. 4e has a generally gamist sensibility that works well for players who learned the ropes of RPGs on computers or consoles, as opposed to basement tabletops littered with Mountain Dew cans and Cheetos. 4e is generally fun to play, and relatively easy to game master. I’d like to play something better.<br />
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<b>Resource Management</b><br />
One key aspect of RPGs is the idea of resource management. How much damage can your character take? How much do you want to invest in weapon-specific advantages? How much should you spend on a variety of gear in anticipation of particular obstacles? All of these questions involve consideration of risk versus reward. Whether you’re talking about combat, exploration, or interaction, what are the risks your character might face? And how do you want to allocate your resources in regard to those risks? Do the game mechanics you’re using allow for these considerations?<br />
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Most RPGs use hit points, or something similar, to denote how much physical damage your character can take before dying. The risk, if you allow your character’s hit points to get too low, is that your character will die. It’s a pretty simple system, and widely recognized and understood. 4e D&D used powers — of an at-will, encounter, and daily frequency — to model combat resources. The conceit of powers and their limited frequencies is that they are unique actions that come about as a weird amalgam of opportunity and chance. Your character is able to summon the extraordinary combination of will and coordination necessary to pull off the action a limited number of times, and must then rest and recuperate before being able to perform it again. For most players I have played with, this has had an artificial feel to it. Why is it that my barbarian can only Flatulently Surge once per encounter? The resources are managed as much by the game mechanics as the player. And the management is limited to the context of combat.<br />
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In my home rules I replaced the combat powers with a pool of points. Players could “buy” combat actions using the points, and build attacks that were tactically appropriate to the situation, and were repeatable as long as the player had the points in hand. This option has worked well for both my seasoned players, and casual players alike.<br />
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So, my next step is to expand the usage of these points, or some similar pool, to the activities of exploration and interaction. In theory, this gives players who are more interested in these activities an opportunity to be in the spotlight. All while actively managing their resources. However, to make it work in a meaningful way as part of the game, there need to be elements of risk and reward as there are in combat.<br />
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I’ll talk more about these ideas in future posts, but I’d like to hear your thoughts, or any experiences you may have had with systems that promote exploration and interaction. If you’re a player that prefers these aspects of RPGs, what skills or powers do you think a character needs to define them?<br />Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-33648253333412314912012-02-17T11:09:00.000-08:002012-02-17T11:09:29.727-08:00It’s All About the GMI had a great discussion on Wednesday night after D&D Encounters at my <a href="http://www.cardkingdom.com/static/storeinfo/info">FLGS</a> with Brooks and Krupal. We talked about D&DNext, and what we thought 4e D&D got right, and what it did wrong. Krupal runs some Pathfinder, Brooks plays in a hybrid home-brew based on Champions. Both of them have years of experience with a variety of game rules.<br /><br />My takeaway from the discussion was that 4e was too player-centric, and didn’t have enough tools for the game master. I suspect that, in trying to make a game that they could sell to all the players at the table (instead of the traditional “GM has copies of all the books, and players just borrow them”), WotC lost touch with what differentiates tabletop RPGs from CRPGs. Specifically, the GM. A human GM can present more responses to player input than a computer or console. And that variety is what makes the game world feel real to the player.<br /><br />Between the three Players Handbooks, the online Character Builder, and the character optimization threads on various online forums, there are so many options for players that there is no effective balance, and no cohesive game feel. The very limitations of OD&D (some of which I loathe) are the very things that make it appealing to many players and GMs. It’s simply easier to create a cohesive, immersive world using those rules than it is with 4e.<br /><br /><b>Why a Sandbox Has a Box</b><br />A “sandbox” game is viewed as one in which the players are free to explore in any direction. It’s a term generally reserved for a campaign style. But, beneath “sandbox” there are usually other tiers that define the campaign style. Maybe it’s a Middle Earth sandbox, or a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lovecraft_Country">Miskatonic Valley</a> sandbox, or a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barsoom">Barsoomian</a> sandbox. These “boxes” set the scene for the players. Rules can have the same function. When the campaign is limited to specific classes, equipment, powers, or other game-mechanical aspects, it helps the players become immersed in that setting. <a href="http://www.wizards.com/dnd/darksun.aspx">Dark Sun</a> is a good example of this.<br /><br />Unfortunately, as written, the 4e rules provide very little guidance for GMs on how to create settings using such game-mechanical limitations. Some attempt was made to address the issue with the <a href="http://www.wizards.com/dnd/essentials.aspx">Essentials</a> line of products, which was marketed to new players, but while it provides limitations, it makes no connection as to why these limitations exist. (Beyond simplifying the mechanics of the game.) So, Essentials doesn’t help players become more immersed in a setting.<br /><br />D&DNext is being described as a “modular” system. One in which GMs and players can combine game-mechanical elements to create the gaming experience that they prefer. My hope is that WotC will include templates and/or detailed guidelines for GMs on assembling these modules. To go back to my favorite LEGO analogy, kits that you buy usually come with a “theme”. The model that is intended to be constructed is pictured on the box, and step-by-step plans are included. But the “player” is free to construct whatever they would like with the pieces included. In some LEGO kits, plans for alternative models are included as well. That’s what I’d like to see happen with D&DNext.<br /><br /><b>How to Play a GM</b><br />One of the signature flaws of 4e, and other character-centric systems, is the use of skills. Too often in such games a player will say something like, “I roll a 12 plus my 17 bonus. 29 Nature. What do I find out?” The activity of exploring the game world has been reduced to the equivalent of a choose-your-own-adventure page reference. Turn to page 29 to find out what happens.<br /><br />One of the game mechanics being discussed for D&DNext is the way in which GMs can use a character’s ability scores to help determine possible success without needing a die roll. The GM knows that an iron-bound wooden door has a difficulty class of 15 to break down. The character has a strength ability score of 17. The player announces that, “My character tries to break down the door.” And the GM, after confirming that the ability exceeds the DC, simply describes the resolution of the door being broken down. There are two key elements to this mechanic. The one being touted is that it speeds gameplay by not requiring a die roll. More interesting to me though is the idea that the player is encouraged to describe an action, rather than to cite a number. It’s up to the GM to describe the resolution given the framing provided by the player.<br /><br />It is simply easier for a GM to describe a resolution given a player’s action than it is if the GM has only a number to work with. In the nature example above, a player might be trying to determine attributes of a creature, properties of a plant, or detect a camouflaged pixie. A better RPG not only gives players tools to create their characters, it gives GMs tools to adjudicate actions. <br /><br />In Wednesday’s discussion Brooks pointed out that the 4e skill list was too general. What is “Nature” skill? The 4e Dungeon Masters Guides (especially the DMG 2) give some good guidelines on how to work with these skills to answer knowledge questions, perception questions, and other types of queries that might fall under the general skill categories. The information is in the rules, yet too often players will resort to the “I got a 29 Nature. What do I find out?” method of play. Not enough attention is paid to how the GM should “play” skill check resolutions.<br /><br />Confronted with a locked door that the players want to open, there are a limited number of options. So, how do you teach GMs to describe other obstacles in ways that frame options for players? Are there ways to describe an outdoor scene that encourage players to describe actions they might take? The key is getting players to describe actions first, and then let the GM decide what skills would be appropriate to check. Teaching GMs the art of framing scenes in this way should be part of any GM handbook, and part of any published module-adventures. <br /><br />I’d love to hear your thoughts on the role of the GM, examples of tools or game mechanics that are useful to GMs, or what makes one RPG better than another. Thanks for reading!Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-60409673532009261872012-02-15T11:34:00.000-08:002012-02-15T11:34:06.856-08:00Hero System — Initial Impressions<br />
<i>Real life is what happens when you commit to blogging. Events arise, and your priorities are shifted. January and February have "shifted" rather radically, but my hope is that this week is the last of the major disruptions. On with the blog!</i><br />
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My friend and GM Dave has relaunched his Avergene campaign using the Hero System rules from <a href="http://www.herogames.com/home.htm">Hero Games</a>. We had been using D&D 4th Edition rules, and decided as a group to try something new. A new system means that players enter the game on a more even footing. As in the early days of playing RPGs, it's more likely that the GM is most familiar with the rules. One of the unique aspects of D&D 4e was how much of the game rules was delegated to the players. Character powers created exceptions to the base rules, much as the cards in Magic: The Gathering did. Managing character "builds" is best handled with the character builder software, especially at higher levels. In contrast to that, the Hero System rules are largely in the hands of the GM in the form of a toolbox for the type of game the GM wants to run. The rules contain everything plus the kitchen sink. It's up to the GM to define the tools useable in his or her game. As a side note, I suspect that this was one of the intents of the designers of 4e, but that it wasn't articulated clearly, thus leading to players building characters with every possible combination of options available. A recipe for confusion and disaster, in my opinion.<br />
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Unfortunately, it seems that Hero System is really no better in this regard. While the GM is free to define guidelines, the variety of options and the potential implications of their selection are open to abuse and/or misuse. I've used the LEGO analogy before. In Hero System the GM limits character options via a point total (analogous to saying, "you have 200 LEGO pegs to work with, and you may choose from 2x4, 2x6, and 2x10-peg bricks.") In general, what "bricks" you work with, and their characteristics are left entirely up to the player. Dave's approach to this is logical: Tell him what capabilities you want your character to have, and he points you to the appropriate game mechanic. The flavor of the game is something he has established, so we're choosing campaign-appropriate options. However, without hands-on experience with the game mechanics in play, it is very difficult to prioritize the components of the character. Literally everything is purchased, from abilities like Strength and Dexterity, to skills like Lockpicking, and personality complications like being unreasonably annoyed by tall people. There are some basic guidelines for creating ability-centric versus skill-centric characters, but players are mostly on their own. Dave worked closely with each of us to create characters that reflected what we wanted to do in-game, and provided lots of tools and guidance in the form of Google Doc character sheets and an Obsidian Portal wiki for the campaign with rules summaries and interpretations (house rules). Thus, a very GM-centric approach to the game, in contrast to the 4e player-centric approach.<br />
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When we were kids, playing army or superheroes in the backyard, much of our time was spent arguing about what our "characters" could and couldn't do. "My guy shoots you with his laser!" "I make a mirror force-field and reflect it back at you!" That's still the core of RPG character creation, except that with an established game structure, characters aren't usually able to fabricate powers and defenses on the fly. You will have strengths as well as weaknesses. In 4e D&D, the compromises are pretty apparent, and in some cases built in to the class. In Hero System, it is much less obvious. Action resolution is based on rolling three six-sided dice (3d6). There is a complex calculus of offensive and defensive values that affect combat rolls. In 4e I know what the basic modifiers are, but in Hero System — as with character building — there is a bewildering array of options. As a new player, I depend on having a GM versed in the mechanics. The pattern of the Hero System mechanics is more difficult to recognize, and so it will take longer to learn to play the game. My coping strategy at this point is to play as a very casual player, that is to query the GM about how to do things during the run of play, and start with a very basic "menu" of actions. The stuff I understand my character can do. I'm self-limiting my choices so that I don't have to involve the GM in each and every action choice, thus slowing the game for the rest of the table. All of this is part of learning a new system, and I've tried to take it in stride. But, in the back of my mind, there's a voice shrieking, "Does this have to be so complex?"<br />
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Choosing a rule set for a campaign or play group is a major challenge. Groups of players have different tastes in play style, sometimes within the group itself. I appreciate the effort that Dave has made to ease us into Hero System. He's made it a lot easier for the players, but it's clear that it has taken him a lot of effort as GM to do so. It's a labor of love in this case. Dave has a very colorful campaign world in Avergene, and he likes the fact that Hero System is generic enough to realize it. He doesn't have to alter Avergene to fit rules flavor, as he did when we were using D&D 4e rules.<br />
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I plan to continue reporting on my Hero System experiences. It's clear that for a group of players interested in the game mechanics of character construction, combat resolution, and for GMs who are looking for rules "crunch" to form a foundation for their campaign "fluff", that Hero System has considerable virtue.<br />
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<b>Considering the Experience</b><br />
With all the activity in the RPG community and industry, it's easy to lose sight of the bigger picture. I do think that for many of us, playing RPGs is an offshoot of the backyard adventures that we used to pursue. Everyone comes to the table with a little bit different priority. Some to tell stories, others to showcase their capabilities, others for the dynamics of the communication itself (argument and debate.) We play RPGs to be recognized in some way. The mechanics of a good RPG should support that. WotC game designers have talked about wanting to create a game that "shared the spotlight" of recognition around the table. I think that's a noble goal both for game rules and for gaming groups. How do your favorite game rules allow players to share the spotlight, and what about the groups you play with? <br />Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-65966909534086444402012-02-03T11:48:00.000-08:002012-02-03T11:48:33.788-08:00Learned Skills or Natural Abilities?Reading <a href="http://critical-hits.com/2012/02/03/initial-impressions-of-the-new-dd/">some of the summaries</a> of initial playtesting and discussion of the next iteration of D&D, I’ve come across some outlines of how skill test resolution may be handled. It appears that some tests will be compared directly to abilities.<br /><br />
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<i>A couple of days ago I talked a little bit about how we want the core mechanic of the game to be the interaction between the DM and the player. And one of the great tools for that is the ability score. So what we want is to empower DMs and players so that if you want to attempt to do something "I want to open the door" then the DM doesn't have to even have you roll, he can just look, see you have a 17 strength and says "Yeah, you burst through that door". We want to get past some of the mundane rolls and not tie up a lot of table time with that and move on to the more interesting stuff and the table narrative. </i></blockquote>
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<i>– Monte Cook, WotC from <a href="http://www.enworld.org/forum/news/317494-seminar-transcript-reimagining-skills-ability-scores.html">seminar transcripts</a> at ENWorld</i></blockquote>
<br />I’m intrigued by this idea. My most recent thinking about test resolution had me considering dropping ability scores altogether, as was done in the CRPG, Skyrim. But this concept, outlined by Mr. Cook, seems to be a cool way to make a system with set difficulty classes work.<br /><br />SpydersWebbing uses these set DCs in <a href="http://thekitchensink123.blogspot.com/2011/11/4emod-ascending-math.html">his 4e mod</a>:<br /><br />Easy: 8<br />Medium: 12<br />Moderate: 19<br />Hard: 23<br />Master: 30<br />Heroic: 34<br />Epic: 41<br /><br />Anything over Moderate on such a scale would require a skill check with a roll. But many tasks could automatically be accomplished by the strongest, smartest, most-agile, or most-perceptive member of the party. <br /><br />In a system without automatic leveling of skills — where skill increases were selected by the player as experience rewards for leveling, for example — set DCs make sense, and work well with the ability score-based resolution suggested by Mr. Cook. If a locked, wooden door has a break down DC of 12, a player with a strength of 12 or greater would pretty much always be able to break it down (barring unforeseen circumstances as determined by the DM.)<br /><br />The balance of an RPG seems to rest on the transition point between narrative-based resolution and game-mechanical resolution. Too much narrative and the game may feel wishy-washy to some players. They may have a sense that it is arbitrary. Too much emphasis on the mechanical — rolls for nearly everything — and the game becomes a console-based CRPG. Just spam the X button until the monster is dead.<br />
<br />So, what happens when a character with an ability score of 18 is confronted with a task with a DC of 19? We transition abruptly from automatic success to a roll-based probability of success. But, what does that mean in narrative terms? I believe this is where the element of risk should come into play. Consequences should be discernable. Perhaps not easily so, but nonetheless, it should be the case. For example, a lock with a DC of 18 is a mechanism that an heroically-agile rogue could pick. But a lock of DC 19 would most likely include a consequence for failure. Perhaps it is a trap, or maybe the noise and/or time required to open the mechanism will attract a wandering monster? Either way, the player should understand that when they are asked to roll the dice, consequences await.<br /><br />Having an interim element, like the ability-score mechanic that Mr. Cook outlined, seems to be an elegant solution. Success can be determined based on game-mechanical elements, but in a narrative manner. The burly warrior bursts open the door. The agile rogue deftly disarms the trap. The canny wizard deciphers the script and decodes the hidden location of a vast treasure. Each specialist is given an opportunity in the narrative spotlight. An opportunity that can be determined by player choices, and GM recognition of those choices. But, in the spirit of the game, greater challenges may offer greater risks and rewards.<br /><br />As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts on the matter. Do you play with a system that handles difficulty classes in a different way? Do you prefer to roll dice to resolve the question of success or failure, or does a narrative hand-wave satisfy you in most cases? <br />Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-48700005611865332352012-01-28T22:27:00.000-08:002012-01-28T22:27:25.083-08:00Choice and ChanceIn the process of trying to assemble a set of game rules for my home game, I’ve drawn extensively from published materials and the efforts of fellow members of my gaming groups. In doing so, a couple of elements have emerged as being significant enough that I’ve chosen to adopt them as tent poles for my efforts. It’s pretty clear that whether it’s choosing to enter a cave or travel further along the trail, favor weapon skills or master magic, playing an RPG is about choice. Making choices gives the players a sense of ownership and involvement. Too many choices and the game becomes bewildering, too few and it becomes boring. As game master, it’s my responsibility to give my players enough choices to make the game fun.<br /><br />Players also need to have a fair chance at succeeding when they undertake actions in the game (or some kind of baseline reference to judge when they’re attempting something with a minute chance of success.) Playing a game is about making choices and taking risks. Consequences of risk, whether positive or negative, should result. What is a “fair” chance is, in my opinion, somewhat up to the player. Player choices should be able to influence the chance of success (in some cases significantly) but never truly guarantee it if the action attempted has some significance to the ongoing story. In my experiences with 4e D&D, too often the chance of failure was vanishingly small. Players came to expect success, and would often forego actions that did not have near-guaranteed successes as a clear result. In doing so, they removed some of the choices available in the game, and thus lessened the fun.<br /><br /><b>Choice of Skills</b><br />Classes, in most RPGs, are templates of skill choices. Combat-oriented players choose fighter classes, magic-oriented players choose caster classes, and stealth-oriented players choose rogue classes. It’s a time-tested model, and one that works for the majority of RPG players. So, why tinker with success? What I’ve chosen to do is divide a set of skills into three categories: Combat, Lore, and Agility. Given a budget of points to allocate, players choose skills from the various categories. The basic consequence of the choices are that there will be some skills at which the player is more proficient, and others where they must rely more on chance to accomplish tasks in the game. In addition to that I’ve tied the overall investment in categories to the character’s defenses. For example, a character with a heavy investment in Lore-related skills would have a greater Will defense. An Agility-oriented character would have a better Reflex defense. And investing in the Combat skills of Block and Heavy Armor (or, the Agility skill of Light Armor) impacts the Armor Class defense. Choice of skills has consequences. The connections also encourage players to invest in a variety of skill categories instead of maximizing only one. The consequences of maximizing are that neglected defenses mean character vulnerabilities. Of course the player is free to choose to accept the risk of such vulnerabilities…<br /><br /><b>Chance of Success</b><br />There are many factors influencing the chance of success in an RPG. 4e D&D used a level-based system of difficulties that, for the most part, scaled with the characters as they advanced. I’ve chosen to leave difficulties static, but use a slightly wider range of difficulty to define situations for my players. As they play the game, they’ll get a better feel for relative difficulties. I’m also using most standard 4e modifiers, so that players who choose to examine the scene, or describe actions intended to improve their character’s chances will benefit from this form of smart play. By using a set scale of difficulties and a cap on skill advancement, the game should have manageable math, and relative balance from low to high levels of experience.<br /><br />So, what is a reasonable chance for success? An easy task in 4e D&D is defined as a “reasonable challenge for an untrained character” and the difficulty is set at 8 on a d20. This gives a character a 65% chance to succeed. Since we’re playing a story-game about heroic characters, it seems as if this is a good baseline. At the other end of the spectrum we have an epic task, something that should be undertaken only by a highly-trained character. In 4e D&D a hard task is defined as one at which an expert PC might expect to succeed at “two out of three” times. So, the 65% success rate seems like a good top-end limit. Given the roll of 8 or better on a d20 reflects this, the number we need to generate for an epic-level task difficulty should be x + 8, where x is equal to the maximum amount of training the player could achieve with any given skill. If there are 20 training-increments per skill, then the target difficulty for an epic-level task would be 28. Of course, by the time a character has achieved maximum proficiency in a skill they’ve probably acquired a number of items and/or advantages that would give them a better chance at achieving such a roll. Quantifying these elements and taking them into account will increase the target difficulty. I’m not going to go into specifics here, but I’m working on that part of the equation as part of my rules development.<br /><br />In addition to reasonable chances for success, I’m considering the chance of failure and the consequences. Should a highly-trained expert fail? How often? In d20-based games the tradition of criticals and fumbles has arisen to take dramatic die rolls into account. The excitement of rolling a natural 20 and the disappointment of rolling a natural 1 has become part of the game for many players. What are the game-mechanical implications of these rolls? In most d20 play groups a roll of 1 is an automatic failure. I’d be inclined to continue that tradition for the excitement it adds to the act of rolling the die. A 20 or a 1 on a d20 reflect the heroic aspect of the game, and can lend additional significance to moments in the game.<br /><br /><b>Simple, Yet Nuanced</b><br />It is a simple thing to have a list of skills and to have players choose the ones they care to develop. And it should be relatively simple to outline easy, moderate, and hard tasks within each of the skills. Investing in skills will unlock additional capabilities within those skills, thus adding functionality to the character as it develops. As skills develop, the character may undertake increasingly difficult skill challenges with reasonable expectations of success. As players play they’ll develop an understanding of the factors that influence the difficulty of a skill challenge, and make play decisions that maximize their chances.<br /><br />I’d be interested in your opinions on class-free roleplaying. Would such a system interest you, or would you prefer to have template classes to kickstart your character creation? And how do you feel about skills, and rolling dice to test those skills?Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-5340979117969429052012-01-18T15:50:00.000-08:002012-01-18T15:50:26.701-08:00A World Without D&DColumnist Adam Davidson who <a href="http://www.npr.org/blogs/money/">blogs for NPR</a> and writes for the <i>New York Times</i> about money made a point in the January 15 issue of the <i>New York Times Magazine</i> that struck me as having a gaming analogy.<br /><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>“Over the past decade or so, a significant part of Wall Street’s business has shifted from serving the financial needs of the nation to profiting from ‘regulatory arbitrage’—making money by playing with the rules of the game.”</i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i></i><i>—Adam Davidson, “A World Without Wall Street”, New York Times Magazine, Jan 15, 2012, p.14-15</i></blockquote>
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<br />I could paraphrase that in gaming terms by saying, <i>“Over the past decade or so a significant part of the RPG experience has shifted from exploration and role play to character optimization—deriving entertainment from exploiting the rules of the game.”</i><br /><br />Of course some people would regard that as a criticism of that mode of play. Which it is. But, I will happily honor and respect the rights of my fellow gamers to play character optimization. Even to the extent of working to provide opportunities for it in my homebrewed rules. It’s not my personal native mode of play, but I’ve done my fair share of it in CRPGs and in various tabletop games. Some of these games seem to require at least some investment in character optimization in order to achieve success in the game. Gone, it seems, are the days when creative use of available resources and out-of-the-box solutions to encountered problems were acceptable currency in terms of game progress.<br /><br />Davidson talks about how Wall Street provides an environment for moving money around that normally wouldn’t be available. The activities on the Street enable risky investments because the risk is spread out over a large population, reducing the exposure. D&D, as the “boss” of RPGs, functions much the same way. It attracts an audience of players and introduces them to the idea of roleplaying. It provides an environment for independent developers and homebrewers to explore creative and alternative forms of roleplaying, and novel game mechanics. <br /><br />Like the gaming community, the finance community includes risk-takers and conservatives. It contains cheaters, idiots and geniuses. It contains vocal minorities, silent majorities, and minute-by-minute churn. (I think the gaming community functions a little slower, but not much.) Suffice to say that this seems a relatively “normal” state of affairs for human communities.<br /><br />Without the presence of D&D the RPG landscape would be very different. I suspect it would be much smaller and more primitive. There are those that say the hobby of playing RPGs is dying. I believe that the rapid evolution of new forms of D&D, spurred on by CRPGs and social media is a sign that the hobby is very much alive.<br /><br />As Anna, one of the regular commenters here said:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>“I think the one positive about 4e stumbling so badly is that people did look for other games to play. Some were CRPGs, but a lot were not. I often feel that the iconic status of D&D pushes equally good, if not better products, out of the market.”</i></blockquote>
<br />I agree that, as a result of 4e’s faults, people were more open to exploring other games. But, I think that it also opened the window for those other games to materialize. And for the gaming public to express opinions about the kinds of games they want to play.<br /><br />So let’s have an Old School Renaissance of RPGs, and let’s have CRPGs that are mostly char-op engines in (sometimes) beautiful packages, and let’s have new editions of D&D that try to bridge the gaps between playstyles. Because in the end it means the hobby is alive and surviving. As Charles Darwin said:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>"I love fools’ experiments. I am always making them."</i></blockquote>Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-66961432912128382642012-01-13T11:03:00.000-08:002012-01-13T11:03:56.412-08:00The LEGO AnalogyMost of you are probably familiar with LEGO bricks. They often come in the form of kits, with instructions on how to build specific models. But one of the advantages of LEGO bricks is that you can build whatever you want with them. <a href="http://gizmodo.com/5864124/lego-adds-some-santa-force-to-gizmodo-gallery">And people do</a>.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIVhUdlteqLlQJfXxTyoMsb2agondvBTeqFNsI4sdqo-FJ08578lgSNN3rcm7zsksN7hsnSKlL3NeKdYy6rnQ9rgMeJZFQD9adN0rezff0hpEs_YcsgwgZ5QHywAcinO5ML_buPbVVMyiy/s1600/Firetruck.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIVhUdlteqLlQJfXxTyoMsb2agondvBTeqFNsI4sdqo-FJ08578lgSNN3rcm7zsksN7hsnSKlL3NeKdYy6rnQ9rgMeJZFQD9adN0rezff0hpEs_YcsgwgZ5QHywAcinO5ML_buPbVVMyiy/s320/Firetruck.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Firetruck I created for my daughter when she was three.</td></tr>
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With the <a href="http://www.wizards.com/DnD/Article.aspx?x=dnd/4ll/20120109">announcement of D&D Next</a>, WotC has stated that they’re hoping to build a modular ruleset, with an eye towards including legacy rules and play styles under a singular D&D umbrella. The current state of D&D is that this is what most of us are doing anyway. Like LEGO enthusiasts exploring options beyond the instructions that came with the kit, we’re creating our own games using our favorite rules and rule systems. Recognizing this state of the hobby, and creating a resource to aid gamers interested in that exploration seems like a logical step to me. And a good business strategy.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>“The final word, then, is the game. Read how and why the system is as
it is, follow the parameters, and then cut portions as needed to
maintain excitement.”</i><i></i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>— Gary Gygax, Advanced Dungeons & Dragons
Dungeon Masters Guide, 1979</i></blockquote>
<br />Gary Gygax, Dave Arneson, and their friends and colleagues tinkered with tabletop war games to create D&D. The fact that the hobby remains a vibrant and viable diversion with a dedicated community of players is tribute to that spirit of experimentation. <br /><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>“This game is unlike chess in that the rules are not cut and dried. In many places they are guidelines and suggested methods only.” </i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>— Gary Gygax, Advanced Dungeons & Dragons Players Handbook, 1978</i></blockquote>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeOn0bwK9iYDSxo6XrLuyOvo_MUH9KlkH16-6en9QLwtFbCxh4WDv6DtNHfTjb7B8z-6K4nWQ27TEEPCz4HwhDywIvX2Gbx-2HTtjM1HA2hdd9wJEoAMR-SK7JhYRS6mtLti2aU24HW8p1/s1600/Lego+Yoda+Santa_gizmodo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeOn0bwK9iYDSxo6XrLuyOvo_MUH9KlkH16-6en9QLwtFbCxh4WDv6DtNHfTjb7B8z-6K4nWQ27TEEPCz4HwhDywIvX2Gbx-2HTtjM1HA2hdd9wJEoAMR-SK7JhYRS6mtLti2aU24HW8p1/s320/Lego+Yoda+Santa_gizmodo.jpg" width="268" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Santa Yoda created for a promotion at Gizmodo</td></tr>
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<br />As we play with the bits and pieces of D&D, each group finds the elements that work for them, and those that don’t. But unifying it all are some basic RPG concepts, the “bricks” that make up the game. Like LEGO, you can buy or find these “bricks” individually online, or at your FLGS. Or, you can purchase the kits. Either way, the pieces are yours to play with, and to combine and recombine in any way that you find fun.<br /><br />I suspect that WotC looked at the state of 4e D&D pre-Essentials and found that some players were overwhelmed by the number of choices and complexity of combinations. I also suspect that part of the intent of 4e was that GMs and players would impose limits on what options were available in their particular campaigns. I think Essentials was a roadmap towards the idea of selective use of the rules. Lesson learned at WotC: Creating a clear system of options for selective game-building is perhaps more important than creating a singular, integrated supergame.<br /><br />This lesson, combined with the state of the hobby (in the form of active and vocal sub-communities devoted to historic variations of the game) has resulted in a change of course. Rather than continuing to pile options on to 4e, WotC will, with input from the community, endeavor to assemble a kit of rules from which players can build their games.<br /><br /><b>The Cost of Changing Course</b><br />I own a lot of gaming books. Admittedly, the vast bulk of them are D&D-related. If I count only the hardback volumes, I have 40 books. It’s a modest collection, but I suspect it is about average for GMs in the hobby. Assuming the books averaged between US$25 and $35 (accounting for the fact that some were purchased over 20 years ago, or more) we’re talking an investment of around US$1,100. I own plenty of splatbooks, modules, and other gaming paraphernalia (not including miniatures.) It’s pretty safe to assume I’ve spent at least $1,100 on that stuff. I’ve been involved in the hobby of RPGs since 1979 or so. It works out to about 32 years. So, cost per day of being in the hobby? About 19¢.<br /><br />I know that most of you haven’t been in the hobby that long. Or you don’t have that many books. But even if your cost per day is five times mine, you’re talking a dollar a day. I think that’s pretty reasonable considering the entertainment value.<br /><br />There are plenty of cynical complaints online about the profit motivations behind WotC’s announcement of D&D Next, coming a mere four years after the release of 4e. I know that many gamers have limited financial resources available to indulge in the hobby. There are so many ways to share the costs of the hobby that I feel justified in saying that I don’t find the complaints a legitimate indictment of WotC. Yes, they’ve mishandled customer relations and marketing, sometimes quite badly. But they also continue to publish useable, and in some cases, inspired material.<br /><br />I’m happy to welcome D&D Next. Ready to explore the various mechanics that WotC has selected as representative of the game over the years. And, I’m interested in providing feedback to them as they finalize the components of the toolkit.<br /><br />I still have my LEGOs. Many of them are older than my D&D books. It’s still fun to drag out the box every once in a while and just build something. My daughter enjoyed them when she was growing up, and added to the collection. Sometimes we tinker with them together. I’d love to hear your thoughts on rules toolkits, LEGOs, the state of the hobby, or all of the above!Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-76551646165884224762012-01-06T15:52:00.000-08:002012-01-06T15:52:02.593-08:00Being a Game MasterOne of my players recently approached me about wanting to learn to GM. He asked if he could sit out a session as a player, and watch what went on behind the screen during the game. Any opportunity to encourage those interested in GMing is golden, as far as I’m concerned. More GMs means more game choices.<br /><br />However, I’m not sure how much can be learned from the GM’s side of the screen that isn’t already apparent to players. What would be apparent is where I diverged from my session notes, or “cheated” to tweak the tension in a combat encounter. But that would be apparent only after I explained it (not something that would be easy in-session.)<br /><br />My first response to the request was “Sure!” My second thought was to grab a couple of GM’s guides from various games. The game this particular player is in is a 4e D&D game, so I grabbed the <a href="http://www.greenronin.com/dragon_age/">Dragon Age</a> GM’s guide and the <a href="http://paizo.com/beginnerbox">Pathfinder Beginner’s Box</a> GM’s guide. Both of these books have a lot of useful info that is not specific to a particular ruleset. I also recommended the 4e D&D Dungeon Masters Guide 2, which I think has a lot of good info as well. Finally, since this player had played at my table during the last D&D Encounters program, I’m including the GM booklet from that. Then he can see how the encounters were set up, and have an idea where I diverged from them as written.<br /><br /><b>Playing Fair</b><br />With almost any tabletop RPG the rules are complex enough that the GM will not know them all. Knowing when to substitute mechanics, gloss over details, or defer to player knowledge is part of the art of GMing. The key is to be fair. Both to the players, and to the game. The only way that players will respect the GM and the game is if they feel it is fair and consistent. Being fair is, for me, a state of mind. I’m by nature a team player. I want to work with people to help them succeed. <br /><br />When players propose a ridiculous action, perhaps to test my level of attention or to see if they can get something free, I need to respond in a way that’s fair. Think of the classic story of the djinni granting wishes. How the wishes are worded is vital to them working correctly. The consequences of poorly worded wishes are widely known. So, I take on the role of the djinni and dissect the player’s request, but I must do so while remaining neutral and without malice. <br /><br />What are the consequences of the proposed action? “I want to leap onto the dragon’s back, and wrap the rope around its wings, so the beast cannot fly, and then leap off!” Heroic? Yes! Ridiculous? Probably. Looking at the request there are three or four components: Jump, Wrap (maybe Balance), Jump. I probably need to come up with three consequences. If the first jump fails, make an Acrobatics check or fall prone next to the dragon (granting an attack of opportunity.) If the wrap fails, make either an Athletics check to hang on, or an Acrobatics check to tumble clear (choose to stay on the dragon and try again, or get away.) Finally, make an Acrobatics check to tumble clear (with the same consequences as the first jump.)<br /><br />
I’m trying to be fair to the player by outlining the possible consequences in advance. I’m trying to be fair to the game by using game mechanics to quantify the action. And I’m trying to be fair to the story by leaving an avenue for heroic success that will be the stuff of legend for the duration of the campaign. Of course there are lots of different solutions to such an action request. Each GM may handle it a little differently. And each ruleset may have different mechanics. But, hopefully in all such cases, the GM will first and foremost strive to be fair.<br /><br />As the campaign unfolds, players learn to trust the GM’s sense of what is fair. They learn that, within reason, they will be allowed to negotiate the consequences of proposed actions. But in each case something must be at risk, and consequences must result.<br /><br /><b>The Art of Fail</b><br />When I’ve participated in <a href="http://www.nanowrimo.org/">National Novel Writing Month</a>, I’ve used Evan Marshall’s <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Marshall-Plan-Novel-Writing/dp/1582970629">The Marshall Plan for Novel Writing</a></i>. One of his best pieces of advice is using the (repeated!) failures of the protagonist to build the story. In fact, he says that in nearly every scene the protagonist should fail, until the end. We’ve kind of got RPGs arranged in the opposite way. And, when players min-max their characters, they do so specifically to ensure success. Unfortunately, that takes much of the drama out of the story or game. Only when we’re confronted with failure are we forced to scramble and come up with new strategies.<br /><br />As a GM, you need to be on the lookout for these opportunities for failure. When they occur, you need to impose fair consequences. When a GM designs an encounter, they create a framework. When players engage in the encounter, they bring it to life — through their actions and the consequences of their choices. <br /><br /><b>Winging It</b><br />Bartoneus over at Critical Hits posted recently about the art of “winging it” as a GM. (http://critical-hits.com/2012/01/05/the-architect-dm-winging-it/) In addition to what he said there, I’d add that “winging it” should include listening to the actions your players propose, and allowing those actions and their consequences fill out the framework of the encounter. By definition, a player has an investment in a proposed action. They want to succeed. By recognizing those moments of opportunity, quantifying them in terms of game mechanics, and defining consequences, you’re on the way to GMing a successful game. Such opportunities are almost impossible to plan for, and usually require a bit of negotiation to adjudicate. But, being open to exploring them is one of the really fun of aspects GMing.<br /><br />
If you’ve got any advice for those that are eager to take up the mantle of GM, please post a comment. I’d love to hear your ideas on the art of GMing!Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-82404724302157939932012-01-04T12:06:00.000-08:002012-01-04T12:06:30.065-08:00More on Rules and RolesThere is a compelling post by j-u-i-c-e over at HubPages on “<a href="http://j-u-i-c-e.hubpages.com/hub/rules-of-immersion">Why RPG Gamers Fight All the Time</a>”. The author breaks it down to rules and roles, uses examples from the CRPG Skyrim, and deftly illustrates the differences between rule gamers and role gamers while arguing the necessity of both. <br /><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>On the one hand, the rule gamer is right: if you don't have rules and statistics, if you don't have attributes, classes, racial modifiers, and skill requirements, your role is undefined. That isn't role-playing, that's pretending the way kids pretend. There's no hard limit to push up against, no consequences for your decisions, no meaning to any of your actions. You might as well not play the game at all and just sit in the dark pretending your way through every conflict.<br /><br />On the other hand, the role gamer is also right: if the rules prevent you from playing a desirable role, what's the point of playing? If there are too many arbitrary rules restricting your freedom of choice you're not really playing a role, you're just following a script. It might be a good action game, or a good strategy game, but it's not really a role-playing game if you can't make basic decisions about things like your character's skill development, what kind of armor they wear, or whether or not Absalem the melancholy Elf can reject his racial heritage and live in the cities as a drunk pimp with an Orc girlfriend and a gambling addiction. </i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>— j-u-i-c-e</i></blockquote>
<br />Meanwhile, Greg Tito over at Escapist Magazine has written an interesting series on the past, present, and future of Dungeons & Dragons. I reference <a href="http://www.escapistmagazine.com/articles/view/features/9294-The-State-of-Dungeons-Dragons-Future">the future article here</a>, because I think it makes some interesting points considering j-u-i-c-e’s comments above. Tito quotes Mike Mearls, head of Dungeons & Dragons development at WoTC, regarding the ways in which 4e D&D may have gotten out of balance. It is apparent from the article that the perception is that 4e D&D suffers from being too rules-oriented, per j-u-i-c-e’s definition.<br /><br />According to the past-present-future articles, older versions of the game (and modern variations spawned by the Old School Renaissance) are more balanced in this regard, if perhaps hampered by somewhat arbitrary rules and/or too many allowances for the role gamer. J-u-i-c-e argues — in the context of Skyrim — that gamer immersion comes from a balance of both rule-gaming and role-gaming opportunities. Immersion being the nirvana that RPGs generally seek to achieve.<br /><br />I think what immerses devotees of the OSR is the rich tradition and history of settings like Greyhawk (among many others), and the familiar mechanics of exploration, combat and magic as defined and refined by game masters from Gary Gygax to <a href="http://lotfp.blogspot.com/">James Raggi</a>. Such games include just enough rules to satisfy most rule gamers, while focusing on role gamers.<br /><br />4e D&D, as originally released, emphasized rules in an effort to create a playing environment that included more gamers. But, as Mearl’s admits, <i>"We've lost faith of what makes an RPG an RPG."</i> In creating a rules game, they lost touch with the role game heritage of D&D.<br /><br /><b>Where Do We Go From Here?</b><br />Lest this devolve into yet another bashing of 4e D&D, I’d like to point out that there are many elements of that game that I, as a role gamer, find compelling. I have just enough rule gamer in me that some of the more arbitrary rules and game mechanics of the original editions of D&D (often perpetuated by the OSR, in my opinion) ruin my sense of immersion.<br /><br />In my evolving homebrew rules, I’ve incorporated a core set of the conditions imposed by D&D spells and powers, as well as specific powers and effects that cause those conditions. Further, I’ve arranged it so that the player may tactically choose powers and effects that apply those conditions on the fly, in the form of customizable attacks and spells. For example, a weapon user might choose to sacrifice a die of damage in order to knock an opponent prone, if the situation warranted it. Or, a spellcaster might decide to expand the area of effect of a spell, sacrificing some duration, for a temporary advantage.<br /><br />In the update I’m working on now, I’m tying skill development to defenses. For example, devote more of your skill development to lore-based skills such as history or spellcraft, and your Will defense will increase. Choose agility-based skills instead, and your Reflex defense is emphasized. Additionally I’m tying feats and powers into skill advancement, much as <a href="http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Skyrim:Skills#Perks">perks are used in Skyrim</a>. When a player spends a point to advance a skill, they may have the option to select an associated feat or power. For example, a player might invest points in their character’s One-handed melee skill, and select the power “Disarm” as part of their advancement. Then, in play, the player would have the option to sacrifice a die of damage in order to disarm an opponent.<br /><br />Ultimately, my goal is to have a rule system that contains a rich set of choices for rule gamers, while remaining straightforward and streamlined for role gamers. I try to invest as much of my development time in my campaign setting as I do in campaign rules, but finding the personal balance is as challenging as finding in-game balance. <br /><br />The conflict between rules and roles seems central to dissension in the ranks of gamer hobbyists. Tabletop RPGs that try to become too rule-centric (like 4e D&D), and CRPGs that endeavor to be more role-centric (like Skyrim), inevitably cause a backlash from gamers dissatisfied with the attempts. However, I think it is important to keep trying, from both sides of the issue. If you have examples of games that you feel are nicely balanced in this regard, or thoughts on the matter, I’d love to hear them!Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-1052293514437094832011-12-28T05:00:00.000-08:002011-12-28T05:00:00.415-08:00Emotional Investment in Character & StoryIn addition to keeping the holiday fires burning for my family, I’ve been playing a bit of Skyrim and reading and thinking about role-playing. There was <a href="http://forums.bethsoft.com/topic/1322758-about-the-main-quest-the-craft-of-storytelling-and-beths-recruitement-process-long-post/">an interesting post</a> on Bethesda Softworks’ (creators of Skyrim) forums that talked about the failings of the writers of the game. It was pretty well thought out, but I couldn’t help but feel that the poster may have missed the intent of the game designers.<br /><br />Like some tabletop RPGs where the GM is creating a world as a canvas on which the players can “paint” their stories, Skyrim is a sandbox-style game. The NPCs and events of the world, taken on their own, are somewhat flat. As various posters in the thread above noted, there are many examples of games where some player choice is sacrificed in favor of a more compelling story (as determined by the writers of the game.) But, in true sandbox style, it is up to players to discover what compels them in Skyrim.<br /><br />This is the approach I’ve tried to take with my tabletop game as well. By having my players create some background information, and noting how they interact with and influence NPCs, I’m able to get a read on what they value in their characters, and in the story. The stuff they’re emotionally invested in. Of course this is much easier to do in a tabletop game than in a CRPG. But I think it’s one of the keys to a successful campaign.<br /><br />Jared von Hindman, who writes for WotC in various forms recently posted <a href="http://www.wizards.com/DnD/Article.aspx?x=dnd/4dnd/20111216">an article on character development</a>, and some of the differences and connections between the game-mechanical aspects of characters, and the emotional investment in story I’m talking about here. <br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>There your characters are, living out a story, which is presented by the DM. Yet those characters are living out a story that, if TVTropes has taught us anything, often follows certain narrative imperatives. Stories have power. A story told enough times can reshape the world. Your adventuring party is creating a story, touching elements of older, darker stories that they might never see the end of because that's not their story.</i><i></i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>— Jared von Hindman</i></blockquote>
As a GM, I’m creating stories in my campaign that are independent of the characters, yet may be influenced by them. Oftentimes, as von Hindman says, there is a certain narrative imperative to the story that creates an informal agreement between players and GMs, and the campaign will, for a time, follow a certain path. This is, to some extent, a matter of convenience for both players and GMs. We have a limited time in which to play, and a certain amount of narrative imperative keeps the game in a context that provides the illusion of full freedom of choice within a realm that is manageable by a GM (who most likely has a job, family, and other commitments that need attention.)<br /><br />Ultimately though, what will make the campaign work is the emotional investment of players in their characters, their characters’ stories, and in the stories of those around them. Balancing this with game mechanics, the dynamics of individual game sessions (influenced by factors like attendance, distractions, and player capabilities, to name just a few), and maintaining a sense of continuity, is what keeps the campaign juggling-act such a challenge.<br /><br />So that’s my goal for 2012. To see if I can engineer a successful combination of these factors, in hopes that they’ll foster a greater emotional involvement for my players in both their characters and in the campaign. If you have any suggestions on how I might be better able to do that, or if you think I should try another direction entirely, please let me know!<br />Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-23634383558128966762011-12-14T16:51:00.000-08:002011-12-14T16:51:33.690-08:00Two Styles of Play<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmJ8dtndB9E584G_FzOeDpOdpPdTw2u91lGqmexfMMp5LbxyTXGqHl2hLcC0ACL6lsM1jbbu40O6kJYTq198NZ4BBcl_fMhR0_BkK_jhy7T7pWm-1l5cUJ1bD_37KNgeDDOYA0AsrPlxt9/s1600/mouseguard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmJ8dtndB9E584G_FzOeDpOdpPdTw2u91lGqmexfMMp5LbxyTXGqHl2hLcC0ACL6lsM1jbbu40O6kJYTq198NZ4BBcl_fMhR0_BkK_jhy7T7pWm-1l5cUJ1bD_37KNgeDDOYA0AsrPlxt9/s320/mouseguard.jpg" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">David Peterson's Mouse Guard</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I've visited this issue several times in the short run of this blog, so I hope you're not bored with it. I find it fascinating. In short, there seem to be two major styles of play employed by those I game with:<br />
<ol>
<li>These players are focused on the game-mechanical aspects of their characters and measure their success by additional mechanics enabled. </li>
<li>These players focus on the story, both of their character (background) and achievements in the campaign. </li>
</ol>
Of course I'm simplifying this radically to make the point. In general, younger players tend to be #1's, while older players are more likely to be #2's. I play with more younger players than old. The ratio is about 3:1. Players assume characteristics of the other style at times.<br />
<br />
My theory is that the younger players are more likely to have grown up with CRPGs, which focus on mechanics as a metric for character advancement, and tend to have less-personal stories. Older players are more likely to have played table-top RPGs first, and may have branched out to CRPGs.<br />
<br />This all makes for an interesting challenge as a GM. Some of my players get an immense amount of their game satisfaction from tracking progress, advancing capabilities, and poring over rules to find game-mechanical advantages for their characters. Others are daunted by this level of detail, find it a burden, or would happily remain oblivious to it. Games like CRPGs and 4e D&D put a lot of burden on the player to make sound game-mechanical choices in order to keep pace with the encounters the game provides. These games are predicated on the idea of character/challenge advancement.<br />
<br />
So, as a GM I get the benefit of a system that empowers my players to define a lot of the rules that they'll be using (as a subset of the gamut of game rules), and puts the utilization of those rules in their hands. However, I am then burdened by the task of generating encounters that challenge the capabilities of these characters. Players expect that opportunities to use these capabilities will arise, and are usually disappointed when they do not. The knife has two edges.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSYX8yk_1kVk2ePlNHEVVQ3thZEDeW60e0GYBsUwyq7Agl7iDhFdwyjLt6a3GiXx-XcaHM2TCjIaDSbQz_bBPrPniHltjjvTGkZTXQdcHbMROjK-h7nQKn458PnWaGhOeJBqGrRenZMmMi/s1600/4ednd_tieflings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSYX8yk_1kVk2ePlNHEVVQ3thZEDeW60e0GYBsUwyq7Agl7iDhFdwyjLt6a3GiXx-XcaHM2TCjIaDSbQz_bBPrPniHltjjvTGkZTXQdcHbMROjK-h7nQKn458PnWaGhOeJBqGrRenZMmMi/s320/4ednd_tieflings.jpg" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">WotC's 4e D&D</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
For those players who are content to focus on story or setting, I can easily sketch rich outlines that they then fill out with the results of their choices. Granted, these players assume that I will do so in a fair and impartial way. They are required to trust that I will do so, and I am bound to honor that trust. Anything less leads to disaster, as I'm sure anyone who played an RPG in middle school, or high school experienced first hand!<br />
<br />
So, I'm sitting here with this knife in hand (Not literally. It's the figurative knife of modern game rules that make my life easy as a GM, as well as complicated.) And I'm wondering if there is a way to carve out a system that works for both styles of play?<br />
<br />
What would you do if your favorite campaign was run using two different rule sets? If, for example, one session was a story-based system like the <a href="http://www.mouseguard.net/">Mouse Guard</a> RPG, while the following session used something more mechanical like 4e D&D? That's just a crazy idea I threw out. I don't have an answer yet, but I'd love to hear your thoughts on the matter.Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-40061698627773783572011-12-13T05:00:00.000-08:002011-12-13T05:00:06.711-08:00Skyrim on the Tabletop, Pt 1<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCtGHLTRhoFFWLnrpwqPFB5hwNzfrjOyUp57Z_m1f-0rp069SfrIkxCOXPuANjCeAtKjMwXPFkOyZgpcQ3Uuj7UOI9OX7hSk3dX7_9C917KpVXa1yGhEWsnr82z76A8uEHObK2p0yvjDRm/s1600/NordMalewlegal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCtGHLTRhoFFWLnrpwqPFB5hwNzfrjOyUp57Z_m1f-0rp069SfrIkxCOXPuANjCeAtKjMwXPFkOyZgpcQ3Uuj7UOI9OX7hSk3dX7_9C917KpVXa1yGhEWsnr82z76A8uEHObK2p0yvjDRm/s320/NordMalewlegal.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Nord from Bethesda's <i>Skyrim</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The trouble with creating your own game rules is that creating a good game is much harder than it looks. My poor Friday night group has been subjected to several iterations of game rules, published and (mostly) unpublished, and yet they still turn out each month. I think I do a good-enough job of creating an interesting setting, and therefore they’re willing to put up with the eccentricities of my house rules.<br /><br />My latest wild hair was inspired by the CRPG, <i>Skyrim</i>. Aside from the racial components, the characters are defined by three attributes and <a href="http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Skyrim:Skills">eighteen skills</a>. This seems like an endearingly sleek setup, yet there are delicious complexities hidden within. Each of the skills has a tree of perks that may be unlocked, that give the character a unique flavor. I found myself wondering what a tabletop version of the game might look like. Green Ronin did it with <i><a href="http://www.greenronin.com/dragon_age/">Dragon Age</a>,</i> so why couldn’t something similar be done with <i>Skyrim</i>? (Keep in mind, this is all very sketchy at this point. More brainstorming than anything else.) What follows is influenced by <i>Skyrim</i>, 4e D&D, and my own house rules.<br /><br />At 1st level you have 8 pts to distribute between the attributes of Health, Lore, Combat, and Agility (Strength, Constitution, and the other 4e attributes are not used). You may not put more than 5 points into any one attribute per level. After that, at each even-numbered level you gain 2 pts, and each odd-numbered level you gain 3 pts. That number becomes your bonus to d20 rolls for skill checks (and/or attacks) based on those attributes. In addition, you use those points in the skill trees to select specific talents or capabilities.<br /><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>Example: A first level character might put 5 pts in Combat. Specifically, 2 pts in Block (unlocking the parry and small shield perks), 1 pt in Heavy Armor (unlocking the chainmail perk), and 2 pts in One-handed melee (unlocking d4 and d6 weapons such as daggers and short swords).</i><br /><br /><i>Fighting with a short sword (proficiency bonus +3), and adding the +5 for Combat proficiency, the player would add +8 when rolling to hit with a d20.</i></blockquote>
<br /><b>Attributes</b>:<br /><i>Combat</i> (Combat Points) — AC<br /><i>Health</i> (Hit Points) Start with 20 — FORT<br /><i>Lore</i> (Magic/Knowledge Points) — WILL<br /><i>Stealth</i> (Stealth Points) — REFL<br /><br /><b>Skills</b>:<br /><br />
<b>Combat </b><br /><i>Athletics</i> (Initiative +1, +2, +3, +4)<br /><i>Block</i> (Parry, shields, sm, md, lg)<br /><i>Endurance</i> (Defender Aura)<br /><i>Heavy Armor</i> (Chain +5, scale +6, plate +8)<br /><i>Martial Arts</i><br /><i>One-handed melee</i> (Weapons, d4, d6, d8)<br /><i>Ranged</i> (Weapons: d4, d6, d8, d10)<br /><i>Smithing</i> (Make armor, 5, 6, 8, or weapons, d4, d6, d8, d10, d12)<br /><i>Two-handed melee</i> (Weapons, 2d4, d10, d12)<br /><br /><b>Lore</b><br /><i>Alchemy</i> (Make potions or poisons, d4, d6, d8, d10, d12)<br /><i>Arcane</i> (Conjuration, Arcana)<br /><i>Crafting</i> (Non-weapon item, non-magical, +1, +2, +3)<br /><i>Divine</i> (Restoration, Arcana)<br /><i>Elemental</i> (Destruction, Arcana)<br /><i>Heal</i><br /><i>History </i><br /><i>Nature </i><br /><i>Primal</i> (Alteration, Arcana)<br /><i>Psionic</i> (Enchanting, Arcana)<br /><i>Religion </i><br /><i>Shadow</i> (Illusion, Arcana)<br /><br /><b>Stealth</b><br /><i>Acrobatics</i> (Agility, Balance)<br /><i>Dungeoneering </i><br /><i>Insight </i><br /><i>Light Armor</i> (hide +2, leather +3, studded leather +4)<br /><i>Perception </i><br /><i>Sneak</i> (Including Move Quietly, Hide in Shadows, Back Stab, Sneak Attack)<br /><i>Speech</i> (Including Bluff, Diplomacy, Intimidate, & Streetwise)<br /><i>Thievery</i> (Including Lockpicking & Pickpocket)<br />
<br />
<br />
I've roughed in some basic perks above, but imagine extending those with some of the options from <i>Skyrim</i>, feats from D&D, or the combat options I derived from 4e that I use in my house rules. In my current system, players build their attack powers on the fly using the following menu of options and a point budget based on the character's level.<br />
<br />
<b>Weapon-based powers (1pt each):</b><br />The available attack powers are as follows ({M} indicates a melee power, {R} a ranged power, and {W} indicates a power useable both ways.)<br /><br />All weapon users gain the following powers by default:<br />{W} <i>1 die damage</i> (die-type based on weapon equipped)<br />{M} <i>Grab</i> (target restrained)<br />{M} <i>Knock Prone</i> (no move)<br /><br />Additional attack powers may be selected from the following list:<br /><br />{M} <i>Back Stab</i> — Minor Action<br />Trigger: You make a melee attack roll against an adjacent enemy using a light blade. The enemy must be granting combat advantage to you.<br />Effect: The enemy takes 1 die damage (weapon) + extra damage, based on level, if the attack hits.<br /><br />{M} <i>Blindside</i> (gain combat advantage)<br /><br />{M} <i>Cleave</i> (make a secondary melee attack against an additional target; target must be adjacent to attacker)<br /><br />{M} <i>Defender Aura</i> — Minor Action<br />You project an aura 1 that lasts until you end it as a minor action or until you fall unconscious. While in the aura, any enemy takes a -2 penalty to attack rolls when it makes an attack that does not include among its targets either you or an ally of yours who has this aura active.<br /><br />If an enemy subject to your defender aura either shifts or makes an attack that targets an ally of yours but not you or an ally who has an active defender aura, then you may make the following opportunity attack (range: melee 1):<br />Target: The triggering enemy<br />Effect: The target takes weapon damage equal to 3 + extra damage, based on level.<br /><br />{M} <i>Disarm</i> (no attack)<br /> <br />{R} <i>Favored Enemy</i> — Minor Action<br />You can designate the nearest enemy to you that you can see as your favored enemy. You can designate one enemy at a time. The favored enemy effect remains active until the end of the encounter, until the enemy is defeated, or until you designate a different target as your favored enemy. If you can make multiple attacks in a round, you decide which attack to apply the extra damage to after all the attacks are rolled. If you have dealt Favored Enemy damage since the start of your turn, you cannot deal it again until the start of your next turn.<br />Target: The designated enemy<br />Effect: The target takes extra weapon damage if the attack hits equal to 3 + extra damage, based on level.<br /><br />{W} <i>Fusillade</i> (no sense)<br /><br />{R} <i>Hit and Run</i> (shift a number of squares equal to 1 + Wisdom modifier)<br /><br />{M} <i>Intimidating Charge</i> (when you charge, target suffers -2 on next attack)<br /><br />{M} <i>Press</i> (push target 1 square and shift into the space that the target occupied)<br /><br />{R}<i> Sneak Attack</i> — Minor Action<br />Trigger: You make a ranged attack roll against an enemy using a light blade, a hand crossbow, a shortbow, or a sling. You must be hidden from that enemy (make a Stealth check opposed by the passive Perception of the enemy. If the Stealth check succeeds, you are hidden from that enemy until the end of your turn or until you attack.)<br />Effect: The enemy takes 1 die damage (weapon) + extra damage, based on level, if the attack hits.<br /><br />{M} <i>Switch Positions</i> (exchange positions with adjacent target)<br /><br />{W} <i>Tumble Past</i> (shift 1 square)<br /><br />{R} <i>Volley Fire</i> (make a secondary ranged attack against an additional target; target must be adjacent to, or the same as original target. Special: You can use this option only once per round. Only useable with a “load free” weapon.)<br /><br />{R} <i>Vulnerable Prey</i> (when target has no adjacent allies, target suffers -2 on next attack)<br />
<br />
Of course, there are a lot of questions to be answered about how this might work, but I hope to expand on the idea in future posts. As always, your insights are welcome!Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-42407525324077647102011-12-12T05:00:00.000-08:002011-12-12T05:00:11.419-08:00Thank You, DaveA couple of years ago I was verging on an episode of game master burnout. Running games, but not really getting any chances to play. I messed around with CRPGs and various MMOs, but I missed the easygoing nature of the tabletop. I decided I’d need to take a chance on an entirely new gaming group. I joined a D&D meetup list online and found a guy looking to start a game that sounded like it was a good fit. We both ended up at our FLGS on the same date, but for a different event. We touched base, and agreed that we’d get together. At the event I met another couple who were fun to play with, and connected them with the new game as well.<br /><br />Dave was the game master, getting back into D&D after a long layoff. He brought a tremendous energy, a deep homebrew setting, and a friendly vibe to the table. Eventually, we became a group. Dave, Sarah, Andrew, Adam, Bob, and I. We had a great time. But, eventually Dave found himself in the same boat I had been in a few months earlier. I added another group to my campaign to get Dave some playing time, but the commitments of developing his own homebrew setting were outweighing the available time that Dave had, so we decided to shutter the campaign. <br /><br />After a bit of negotiation we decided to go with the Dark Sun setting to take a little bit of the labor out of the creation part for Dave. Andrew and Sarah moved, and the group changed a bit. But Dave still brought his enthusiasm and energy to the game. Being a creative guy, Dave refused to settle for the easy route with Dark Sun, and had soon created his own town in the setting, and a bunch of new plot elements. We had a lot of fun with it. As our characters leveled up, we discovered things about 4e D&D that were less than satisfying to us. We chugged through it. There were some epic encounters and memorable NPCs. Dave started talking about winding up the campaign by year’s end, and revisiting his original setting concept. <br /><br />So, yesterday we played an all-day Dark Sun D&D marathon. The like of which I haven’t played in since high school. Dave and his wife organized meals and gaming like the gracious hosts they’ve been for so many sessions before, but on an epic scale. The final fight was a great challenge, and pushed our characters to their limits. It was perfect.<br /><br />Thank you, Dave. For all the work you’ve put in over the last few years on these campaigns. Thank you for inviting me to your table, and into your home. Thanks also for gathering a great group of people to game with, and keeping us gaming together with your creativity and generous spirit. Thank you for pursuing your gaming interests towards the next campaign you’re planning, and inviting me to participate in that as well.<br /><br />A couple of years ago I was verging on an episode of game master burnout. Running games, but not really getting any chances to play. Thank you Dave for giving me the chance to play. But more important, thank you for reminding me why I play. To spend time with friends at the tabletop, laughing and telling stories and having a great time. And thanks to Sarah, Andrew, Adam, Bob, Neil, Aaron, and the other folks who’ve wandered in and out of the Dave’s campaigns. I hope we get more chances to play together in the future!Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-23623391137590289692011-12-05T05:00:00.000-08:002011-12-05T05:00:14.957-08:00Out of the Cave<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>Man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro’ narrow chinks of his cavern.<br />- William Blake</i></blockquote>
<br />It’s pretty easy to get tunnel vision while playing in or preparing for an RPG session. We are constrained in various ways by the rules we choose, the story to be told, the clichés of genre that dictate the common language of fantasy, or whatever milieu we may have selected for our game. We sit in our caves and draw upon the walls with chalk and charcoal, telling stories by firelight. But there is a whole world of gaming out there. A million caves where a million tales are being told. And, like the million monkeys with their million typewriters, a few Shakespearean epics are being written.<br /><br />Whether it is a plot, or a rule system. An ideal game mechanic, or the most satisfying narrative twist. It is out there waiting to be discovered if we are open to it. One of my art teachers in college, <a href="http://www.richardkehl.com/">Richie Kehl</a> always urged us to look at stuff with a naive, or innocent eye. One of my favorite experiences in his class was a multi-hour barrage of imagery shown so fast, you were soon unable to put names to what you were seeing, and saw only shape and color. Looking at games and game rules in a similar way requires some significant effort. Acquiring and reading game rules is a labor of obsessive love. I would be the first to admit I don’t really have the patience for it. But I’m slowly doing it anyway. Because I’m curious, after decades of gaming, about what else is out there. Beyond my cave.<br /><br />Over the last few years I’ve gotten active in my local RPG community, and online, to connect with others via a hobby that I’ve found entertaining and fulfilling since I first discovered it. That the hobby still holds me in its spell is testament to the power of gaming. But I returned to gaming with renewed fervor a few years ago when I found that I was becoming isolated and sad. I was looking for a cooperative social outlet (and wasn’t working at a daily job.) I missed being part of a team. It has been a rich and rewarding experience. I’ve been more experimental in my gaming, and willing to game with people I didn’t know. I’ve learned new games and met new people.<br /><br /><blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>I’ve always kept myself open for surprises. I don’t plot and plan.<br />-Steven Spielberg</i></blockquote>
<br />As I’ve played more, I’ve tried to be more open to change. I’ve honed my session notes to a few pages, and try to listen to my players for cues on where the game should go. When playing I’ve tried to add creatively to the worlds I’ve been invited to explore, helping the GM define the place (and hopefully making it richer for everyone involved.) When creating characters, I’m not usually going to spend as much time on the mechanics of how, as I am the mysteries of why. But I’m open to discovering the answers to those mysteries in the run of play.<br /><br />So now I find myself thrown back into the world of 9-to-5 work. Gaming, instead of being the core cooperative experience of my week, is a luxury. An option. I’m really enjoying the work. (I had the odd experience last week of putting in a full day, then racing to my FLGS for the weekly D&D Encounters session. I enjoyed both in equal measure, for entirely different reasons.)<br /><br />Life is something that, to a certain extent, can’t really be plotted or planned. You surf the wave of experiences and sometimes you lose your balance, sometimes you wipeout, and sometimes you hang ten and rip it all up. The wave’s a little different today. I’m fighting for balance, and looking ahead to see what opportunities might present themselves. I’m trying to remain open for surprises, to keep an innocent eye on what I see.<br /><br />How does your gaming fit into your life, and what priority to give it?Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-49061838285059562582011-11-24T11:54:00.001-08:002011-11-24T12:02:28.270-08:00A Question of SkillsOver at <i>Hack & Slash</i>, -C posted recently <a href="http://hackslashmaster.blogspot.com/2011/11/on-skill-confusion-character.html">about skills and skill use</a> in RPGs. The post cites extensive skill options as being an obstacle to new gamers, an impediment to gameplay for skilled players, and unnecessarily complex. The core question being presented was:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>How is selecting a limited number of options from a list a superior method of customizing your character compared to using a limitless number of verbal options (words) to describe what your character is like?</i></blockquote>
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There were a lot of good comments, and the dialog highlighted the debate between rules-light and rules-heavy gaming. Personal preference plays a major role in the choice between the two, but is there a happy medium out there? And, if so, has it been published, or is it still waiting to be published by a game designer or hobbyist?<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjqNkqeWtZY63f-R3PznqLmO0Rfz_jBM8kQSWiQgKW0rQZkVzHjeNLx1xSA4HAfLcAedRDTXAS_Z8OE8jvt91s-iPRRn2z5EjiDhFXH5CEWZcLKXTmFkF0urKGb3vCnYSXDe1AykWSAFhw/s1600/51.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjqNkqeWtZY63f-R3PznqLmO0Rfz_jBM8kQSWiQgKW0rQZkVzHjeNLx1xSA4HAfLcAedRDTXAS_Z8OE8jvt91s-iPRRn2z5EjiDhFXH5CEWZcLKXTmFkF0urKGb3vCnYSXDe1AykWSAFhw/s320/51.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image from Players Handbook 2 published by WotC</td></tr>
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Several commenters expressed an interest in scaling skill complexities. That is, general skills that could be approached from a rules-light perspective, allowing more on-the-fly adjudication by the GM, and then progressing to checks for more specialized options. A bone of contention involves the calculation of difficulty ratings for challenges and whether or not an exhaustive list of situational modifiers is necessary.<br />
<br />
After our most recent D&D Encounters session I had an interesting chat with one of my players who had spent much of his RPGing career playing 4e D&D. He expressed some reservations about having a GM calculating difficulties, and a preference for clear and accessible modifiers that could be calculated by both GM and player. I respect his right to expect this when playing 4e D&D (considering that many of the modifiers in question are, in fact, presented in various portions of the rules) but I don’t believe it is realistic to require a GM with a table full of people to entertain to make such involved calculations on-the-fly. Some compromise has to be made. (Now, if someone were to create an app for GMs that, when the skill in question was entered, supplied a list of all possible circumstantial modifiers, I might sing a different tune.)<br />
<br />
In play some players prefer to implement skill use by rolling a die for a check and indicating which skill they’re using, while others prefer to describe a proposed action and then enter into a negotiation with the GM about which skill would be appropriate for the check. Without getting into the specifics of individual skills (examples of which can be provided to illustrate the advantages of either of the play preferences cited above) I think both styles of play can coexist at the table. That said however, in my after-Encounters conversation, the point was presented that a player adhering strictly to the rules system in use might feel slighted by other players being allowed to check skills in an alternate manner.<br />
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When we sit down to play a classic board game, there are some agreed-upon rules that we follow, and everyone at the table is expected to abide by them, or work to achieve a consensus on how they are to be interpreted. By nature, an RPG promotes a variety of play styles, and actual play often involves a range of rule-use depending on the situations presented. The ultimate goal being not so much to “win”, as to resolve the conflicts that occur on the way to the end of the story or adventure. As a player, you have rights and responsibilities within the framework agreed upon by the group. The GM has a large influence on this, as they have agreed to act as an impartial actor in the game, presenting situations and adjudicating conflict resolution as necessary.<br />
<br />
So, which is preferable, a range of codified skills, or the freedom of extemporaneous skill use?<br />
<br />
Clearly, we need to consider player expectations, GM workload, and group consensus. Compromise becomes a necessary ingredient in order to make the game work. As we agree on the compromise of a combat system, or other RPG sub-systems, we need to do so with skills. There are many available models, ranging from no specifically-defined skills, to a few general skills, to a wide range of clearly defined skills. What does your play group choose?<br />
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What I’ve implemented at home is a tiered model. I have <a href="http://www.obsidianportal.com/campaign/dominium/wikis/non-combat-skills">a long skill list of specific skills</a> that players are free to purchase proficiencies in. I also explain to players that they may propose actions for which they do not have skill-specific expertise. I use the modified 4e difficulty ratings that include easy, moderate and hard options for different levels of challenges. The level of a challenge is something I either pre-assign, or adjudicate on the fly based on my interpretation of the circumstances (is it an Epic action like plugging a volcano to prevent the destruction of a city, or a Paragon action like convincing the Lord to evacuate the city due to it’s impending destruction, or an Heroic action like leaping across a lava flow with a baby in your arms as the city is engulfed?) Once I have determined the level, I can judge whether or not the task will be easy, moderate or hard for the character.<br />
<br />
If a character is trained in a skill that applies to a challenge, the target for their roll is drawn from the range at the base level of the challenge. If a character is not trained, they may use the appropriate ability modifier to add to their roll, but the level of the challenge will be considered higher (reflecting the fact that they are not trained, but may have some innate capacities.)<br />
<br />
It is not a perfect system, but it is modular and has several ranges for difficulty modification that may be applied, and negotiated with the player, without necessitating consulting a rulebook to determine the specific modifiers for climbing a rain-slicked wall covered with algae (for example.) My goal is to provide some expected structure for those players that feel more comfortable with that, while allowing others who prefer a looser approach the freedom to attempt virtually any action that they can imagine.<br />
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It’s a challenging question, and underlines one of the key play-style differences between vintage and modern RPGs. I’d be curious to hear your thoughts and opinions on the matter!Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-62569145707987974882011-11-22T06:06:00.001-08:002011-11-22T06:48:15.841-08:00Adventuring in Skyrim<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiu7Gl9f37-U4pUuh1sUp-KtXe8wHveExRoqCEsPOTO8aqmaObPKHltdmeTLGLIzKVEFvev14xCbMsdbuCAC5cH-bg5r8sX1i4RzxC2a4ZrNRVtKTvnWC8bM7SXJ7fPoiq7qEegh21uBNJ/s1600/skyrim_environment_1024x768.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiu7Gl9f37-U4pUuh1sUp-KtXe8wHveExRoqCEsPOTO8aqmaObPKHltdmeTLGLIzKVEFvev14xCbMsdbuCAC5cH-bg5r8sX1i4RzxC2a4ZrNRVtKTvnWC8bM7SXJ7fPoiq7qEegh21uBNJ/s320/skyrim_environment_1024x768.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A vista from Skyrim</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I haven't played very deeply into the CRPG <a href="http://www.elderscrolls.com/">Skyrim</a> yet, but I'm captivated as I was with its predecessor, Oblivion. The viking-inspired scenery and cultures of Skyrim are beautifully executed. The game-play (I'm playing on the X-Box) is good. There are over 200 "spaces" to visit in the game, which includes some fairly sizeable dungeons.<br />
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I think the dungeons are where I have the most fun. Crawling along, experiencing the weird ambient lighting and sounds (especially when something howls, crashes, or moans out of the back-channel speakers on the surround system) is totally immersive for me. The sense of tension is palpable, and it truly captures the best moments of past play experiences at the table in "traditional" RPGs. As a result, I find myself wondering if the play experience is richer for me because I grew up reading and playing at the table, as opposed to having access to CRPGs as they've evolved over the last 20 years.<br />
<br />
I've played CRPGs in various forms, from the text-based <a href="http://www.infocom-if.org/downloads/downloads.html">ZORK</a>, and various MUDs like <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Medievia">Medievia</a>, to basic graphical games like the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baldur%27s_Gate_%28series%29">Baldur's Gate series</a>, to MMOs like World of Warcraft. But all of that came after fairly rich literary and gaming experiences that occurred almost exclusively in my imagination, and that of my friends. Because of that, I think I'm pretty forgiving of game mechanics, and I easily get involved in the story and scenery (whether in text or image form) of the game. That's not to say I've never played a crappy game, as I recall more than a few with ridiculous graphics, mechanics, or story elements that put me off. For the most part, however, my CRPG gaming experiences have been good.<br />
<br />
Oblivion and Skyrim have been something different though. They are not perfect games. And I think the Bioshock and Mass Effect are examples of games that explore more provocative stories. But I find myself most drawn to the classic fantasy tropes that Bethesda has explored with their Elder Scrolls series. The open adventuring environments (notable even in the graphically-simpler Morrowind) and level of detail just make these games complete for me. It's the sort of feeling that inspires my campaign creation. Building a world that continually unfolds as my players explore is my aspiration.<br />
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Capturing some of the tension and excitement that I experience in Skyrim, and bringing that to the tabletop for my players to experience is part of the challenge of GMing for me. A creative goal. Whether or not I'm successful, I have fun trying, and I'm inspired to keep at it by games such as Skyrim. What inspires your gaming experiences?Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-64348820186267425412011-11-21T09:11:00.001-08:002011-11-21T09:11:34.450-08:00Holiday Schedules and Session FrequencyI have two groups that play in different parts of my campaign setting once a month. One player from the Friday group also plays in the Sunday group. I try to keep the campaign wiki up to date with recaps (although I’m behind right now), and the Friday game at least falls pretty consistently on the third Friday of every month.<br /><br />Still, it’s a challenge to keep players up to date and informed about what’s going on in the campaign. Some of that stems from the different levels of player involvement, which includes factors like interest, attendance, and general RPG savvy (a few of my players play RPGs very rarely.) <br /><br />In contrast to my own campaign, Wednesday night D&D Encounters at the game store have a core group of three to four players that show up nearly every week. Encounters features short sessions, and a fairly linear story, so it isn’t too difficult to keep up to date on the details. Frankly, I’m a bit envious that I can’t run my own campaign this way, but it just isn’t realistic to be able to get everyone around the table at home on such a regular basis.<br /><br />When I consider the campaigns I play in, and those I run, there is a wide variety of campaign awareness. That is, players that are following the story, and/or events of the game world around them. It ranges from totally unaware, to immersed. As a GM, I have to assume that if players keep returning to the table, they are entertained. And that’s my primary goal, that playing an RPG provides entertainment to players and GM alike.<br /><br />November and December, along with the Summer months, can be challenging times to get people together for gaming. Given that only a few of my players seem to be actively involved beyond the sessions themselves, I’ve grown to accept these little breaks in the flow, and use them to renew my creative energy.<br /><br />I’d be interested in your thoughts about campaigns, session frequency, and your experiences with alternative meeting systems (e.g., Skype, and the like.)Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-39710149729869299362011-11-18T10:30:00.001-08:002011-11-18T10:36:01.267-08:00To Rule, or Not to RuleD&D developer Monte Cook recently posted an interesting article about game rules and the style of play they promote. He asked a couple of questions about RPG rules, and briefly talked about the differences between past and present iterations of D&D rules.<br /><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>Does the game present players with challenges that have pre-made solutions?</i><br /><br /><i>For example, can all monsters be defeated in straightforward ways, which is to say, attacked with swords and magic missiles until they die? Can all physical obstacles (walls to climb, narrow ledges to traverse, rivers to cross, and so forth) be overcome with die rolls? Are those die rolls achievable given the PCs’ level and abilities? Is the solution to every puzzle available to those with the right skills or spells? Is the counter or resolution to every problem hardwired into the game?</i><br /><br /><i>Put another way, need a player look any further than his character sheet to solve every in-game challenge? Are the bounds of the game defined by the bounds of the rules?</i><br /><br /><i>Looking back at the game’s roots, the answer to these questions was usually no. In the early days, the game’s mechanics rarely provided solutions to the problems the characters faced. Players stretched beyond the bounds of the rules and looked for solutions not covered in the books. Player ingenuity was always the key to winning encounters. And very often, the DM didn’t actually have a set solution in mind ahead of time. He expected the PCs to come up with something on their own.</i><br /><br /><i>— Monte Cook, Legends and Lore columnist, in the article <a href="http://www.wizards.com/DnD/Article.aspx?x=dnd/4ll/20111115">Out of Bounds</a></i></blockquote>
<br />In the first D&D Encounters session of the new season on Wednesday, we met to create characters. About half the players at my table had played with me through the last season, so they were pretty familiar with my GMing style. We got to talking about my style, and in particular how it worked, or didn’t work for them. I really appreciated the input, and it brought to mind a couple of things that crystallized for me when I read Monte’s article.<br /><br />In general my GMing style is to play encounters without set solutions in mind. I’m open to letting players explain their intended actions outside the context of the rules, interpreting a probability and either calling for an appropriate roll, or narrating the consequences of their choices. During the Encounters season just finished we had a player at the table who specialized in creating elaborate sequences of actions in response to encounter circumstances. I indulged him, perhaps a touch too much, in that his play style was what I expected from players, as it fit my GMing style.<br /><br />However, most of the rest of the table was playing in a style that fit the structure of the present iteration of D&D rules. They had the expectation that the encounters they faced during the session would have pre-made solutions that were designed to be arrived at using the options available to their 4e D&D characters. This was true, of course, and I was open to either approach, but failed to adequately communicate that. The more elaborate sequences of actions presented by our unique player also took up more time in the spotlight than the more efficient 4e actions. My players candidly told me that, while they were entertained by the antics of our unique player, they didn’t want to be short-changed for playing by the rules.<br /><br />This was good food for thought for me in considering the mixing of gaming styles at the table. Monte ends his article urging players to consider the rules not as definitions of their actions, but as a framework upon which they can build actions, sometimes making choices that go outside of the framework.<br /><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>The rules are not the sum total of the game. The game is larger than that. Breaking the rules, circumventing the rules, or ignoring the rules does not take you out of the game.<br /><br />—Monte Cook</i></blockquote>
<br />As a GM, recognizing the style of my players, and making on-the-fly adjustments to my own style in response, is part of the cooperative nature of RPG play. In designing my own rules for my home campaign, I’ve deliberately left a lot of open space for interpretation and exploration by the players. One of the great strengths of 4e D&D is how much of the game mechanics it puts in the hands of the players, freeing up the GM to focus on other issues. I really value that design consideration. However, the old saw about “with great power comes great responsibility” is a core truth in 4e D&D. Players are faced with an often-bewildering and ever-expanding array of character options, each with its own seemingly-unique mechanic. (More experienced players are quick to recognize the modular design of the options, and often quick to criticize 4e for that.)<br /><br />Looking at the Encounters season ahead, I want to take my players’ input into consideration and adapt my GMing style to encourage their participation. And, as Monte said, look for opportunities for everyone to play in the spaces between the rules when that feels comfortable to them. In my home game, it is less of an issue, but it has certainly raised my awareness of barriers to player participation. As a GM I most enjoy sessions where the players drive the story. Making sure my players have the tools to do that, and the space in which to do it, is part of the balancing act of GMing. <br />Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-76882559471619749482011-11-17T05:00:00.000-08:002011-11-17T05:00:02.408-08:00In Character: Saraneth "Sleight of Mind"<i>What happens when an illusionist tries her hand at cards? In an effort to raise some much-needed coin, Saraneth uses a combination of disguise, deceit, and a bit of good fortune to fill her purse.</i><br />
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Saraneth resisted the urge to check her moustache. A necessary part of the disguise, and the most fragile. The costumer from whom she’d bought the glue insisted that even the notoriously sweaty Althus Manutius, one of the Copper Show’s most noted players, hadn’t sweated through it during his latest role as Captain Dark in “Dark Dangers Abound”. Not that Saraneth had coin to spare at the Copper Show. Nor the patience to listen to Althus Manutius, whoever he was. The costumer had dropped names like a sower dropped seeds. Saraneth had nodded, and smiled, as if the penny dramas of Irongate were the most fascinating thing on earth. The costumes were pretty to look at though. But none were so fine as d’Garlim’s coat. Or rather, her coat now.<br /><br />The costumer had marveled at it. Even offered her gold for it. He recognized that it was not a prop, but the real thing. That was a problem. Too many people were recognizing it of late. If word got back to the d’Garlim family, there might be questions asked. Pointed questions.<br /><br />In the end, she decided to risk it again. Tonight she was Tarique, a young noble of the guard spending a few hours throwing coin and caution to the wind at Pox Motley’s public house, known to the locals as “The Jester” for the bad caricature of Motley that served as a signboard. <br /><br />Of the players still at the table, only Rankin was left to bet before the <i>reveal of three</i>. The greasy merchant fingered a stack of copper coins briefly, and then he nonchalantly shoved the whole stack forward to raise, going all-in. Benedict promptly folded. Elliott the Sharp had six coppers and a silver piece in front of him. He looked at his cards again, a squire and sword, both crowns. Promising enough to lure the silver piece out as he matched the merchant’s bet. Maricius, to the left of the Sharp, folded and it was Saraneth’s option. The few gold coins that had been wagered that evening were in front of her, as well as much of the silver. <br /><br />“At least give the man a chance to win his money back, Tarique,” Benedict said to Saraneth, using the <i>nom de guerre</i> she had adopted for the evening, apparently none the wiser. “You’ll hardly note the loss of ten coppers, sir!”<br /><br />Saraneth gave him the stink eye, and dropped a stack of coppers into the pot. “I will pay to see what Rankin holds. If he’s trusting in chance, he’ll be sadly forsaken.”<br /><br />The attention of the table turned to Janus, who had gotten a bit deep into the Jester’s ale and opted to play the hand blind. Janus smirked, belched, and matched the bet as well. “I’m innit.”<br /><br />It was time for the <i>reveal of three</i>. Benedict tapped the stack of cards and turned over the king of crowns, three of shields, and the five of cups.<br /><br />Janus hiccupped and tapped the table, satisfied to leave the pot as it was. Rankin waved his hand over the table with a theatrical sigh, all his remaining coins already in the pot. The Sharp echoed Janus’s tap with his own. Saraneth raised a silver piece.<br /><br />Elliott the Sharp coughed explosively into his hand.<br /><br />Janus seemed to sober a bit and scowled at the disguised Saraneth before sliding a silver piece of his own into the pot, leaving himself only four coppers, and still no clue as to his own cards. The Sharp pondered a moment, eyed Saraneth in her Tarique disguise and advanced his last six coppers, all-in. A tangled web of finance and fabrication bound the players tightly to the table, as they anticipated the <i>returning</i>.<br /><br />Benedict turned over the six of shields.<br /><br />Janus chuckled to himself and tapped the table again. Saraneth added four more coppers to the pot, forcing Janus to relinquish the last of his funds if he wanted to play on. Frowning, Janus did just that and lowered his head to whisper slurred prayers to the hidden cards on the table in front of him.<br /><br />Four players remained, the pot in three portions according to the priorities of those who had chosen to wager their all. Over 80 coppers on the table.<br /><br />Benedict turned over the last card, known to some as the <i>reward</i>. It was the queen of cups.<br /><br />Only the victor’s revelation remained. Rankin snapped his cards decisively on the table. A king and queen giving him a strong two pair with the royal couple already revealed. The merchant chuckled confidently. Elliott the Sharp tossed his cards out in disgust, nothing having materialized despite the tantalizing possibilities. Janus took a last swig of ale and muttered a plea into his empty tankard as he flipped the mystery cards before him, but found nothing of merit.<br /><br />Saraneth managed to restrain her grin as she placed her two and four on the table, completing a straight with what Benedict had dealt.<br /><br />Rankin gasped. “You had nothing when you called me, you young fool!” The merchant’s face was bright red. Benedict laughed into his sleeve. “Heh. You bet silver before you saw that six you needed! Who was it trusting in chance, eh?” The dealer shook his head. Saraneth collected the coins with a good-natured laugh. <br /><br />“Well played, gentlemen! I trust we can do this again sometime?”<br /><br />"A two and a four!" Rankin rose abruptly, and waved his hand, "Bah! Who plays with such common cards? It's madness!"<br /><br />As the merchant stalked out, Saraneth spoke as if to herself, <i>"O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! ... The common curse of mankind, folly and ignorance,"</i> She tapped her winning cards. "Not my line, Rankin. Some poet. You might find you're as cursed as the rest of us despite the noble cards you hold."Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-19116889145280137142011-11-16T05:00:00.000-08:002011-11-16T05:00:08.315-08:00Pwning the Game and the Fear of FailureWhy is it that so many gamers are not just satisfied with success, but they must have success on the scale described by the US military as “shock and awe”?<br /><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>One of the golden rules of roleplaying games is, "Thou shalt pick a role and stick with it." Spread around points, and you'll typically end up with a watered down character incapable of taking on the adventure's larger challenges. Careful planning is the name of the game. </i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>— Kat Bailey, Associate Editor, GamePro</i></blockquote>
<br />Kat’s talking about the video game <a href="http://www.gamepro.com/article/features/224916/three-gamepro-editors-three-skyrim-stories/">Skyrim</a>, but one only has to look at the extensive character optimization threads in the D&D forums hosted by WotC to see that min-maxing is the name of the game for many players. But in the context of an RPG played on the tabletop, you’re usually not flying solo. You have a team around you, a supporting cast. It’s OK to have a weakness, or a quirk, or a blindspot. Some other member of the team likely has it covered.<br /><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>…failure serves the deeper function of making players readjust their perception of a game. In effect, failure adds content by making the player see new nuances in a game.</i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>— Jesper Juul, <a href="http://www.jesperjuul.net/text/fearoffailing/">Fear of Failing? The Many Meanings of Difficulty in Video Games</a><br /> </i></blockquote>
I wrote yesterday in <a href="http://anarkeith.blogspot.com/2011/11/elements-of-good-story.html">The Elements of a Good Story</a> that complications, and overcoming the challenges of complications, were key pieces to a good story. So, it seems like it would be more fun to have a character that might, at times, not be able to pwn the monsters, challenges, and any NPCs the GM happened to roll out. It’s one of the reasons that dice are a part of RPGs. You roll the dice. You risk failing. That sensation of wondering which way the die will fall… How enjoyable is it really when you roll a two on a d20, and announce, “Uh, two. That’s 36 versus AC. Does that hit?”<br /><br />In one game in which I play, one of the players has built a nigh-unhittable character. He’s studied the rules, combined the most advantageous of them, and as the combat gets underway, he begins activating bonuses and maneuvering about until he’s added near double-digit bonuses to his defenses. It’s all within the rules of the game. And, my suspicion is, that for him it is a sort of commentary on the state of that particular game. I don’t have a problem with a well-built character. And, I don’t have a problem with a rule set that allows such min-maxing to occur. What I find myself wondering though is what the players are really getting out of the game?<br /><br />Is it really satisfying to take the risk of failure out of the game? When complications and failures are the time-tested and proven elements that authors have been using for centuries to hook readers into caring enough about their characters to turn the page and keep reading?<br /><br />So, I’m challenging you to consider that the next time you sit down to generate a character for an RPG. Understand that you will be “adding content” to your gaming experience by embracing failure and seeing where it leads. And for GMs, what about exploring the possibilities by presenting a carefully-crafted unwinnable encounter? Can you plunge your players into the pit of despair, yet leave a trailing, frayed end of rope of hope dangling just within their reach? Or, are you willing to accept their crazy MacGyver solution to the problem? A solution that you’ve driven them to create because you cast them into that pit? I think both players and GMs would benefit from adding a little bit more failure to their games. What do you think?Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-15770730113981609502011-11-15T10:04:00.001-08:002011-11-15T10:13:45.829-08:00Elements of a Good Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I volunteer in the library at my daughter’s school, shelving books mostly. One of the benefits is getting to hear the librarian read stories to the kids. They’re usually pretty simple stories, but the combination of the librarian’s voice (which transports me back to my own elementary school days) and the kids’ excitement as they listen makes it fun. This past week, the librarian pointed out to her class of first-graders that they were “sophisticated listeners, and ready to learn about the structure of a story.” She told them about main characters, and how they often have expectations about the events of their lives, and how authors present the characters with challenges that disrupt the characters’ expectations. “What makes a good story,” she said, “is how the characters overcome the challenge.”<br /><br />It doesn’t get much more straightforward than that. And, it was a good food-for-thought for me to consider while designing encounters for my players. My task is to present them with a challenge. Something that disrupts their expectations and forces them to change their plans. The story comes from the choices the players make, and the relative success of their characters as they attempt to meet the challenge. In an RPG, the dice play a role as well, occasionally disrupting the player’s plans and presenting new challenges or opportunities.<br />
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<b>The Two-Tiered Encounter</b><br />
I was playing in Dave’s Dark
Sun game last week where, due to time restrictions, the encounter we
were involved in had to be cut short. To be continued next week. <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj335XocslCPtu6sJRRW72Gk8jumjA67c5sleWxS1f8i70WIKiBS8rJZFLF6amOtMchJSgnlorhxz9B5mt3oTVFQEYQ0JhtVj8L8uLQOhUnpDGM83Kp48UGP03s96-tltmiPw9oyuXJxINh/s1600/Sheeanaandworm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="331" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj335XocslCPtu6sJRRW72Gk8jumjA67c5sleWxS1f8i70WIKiBS8rJZFLF6amOtMchJSgnlorhxz9B5mt3oTVFQEYQ0JhtVj8L8uLQOhUnpDGM83Kp48UGP03s96-tltmiPw9oyuXJxINh/s400/Sheeanaandworm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A sandworm, from the cover of <i>Heretics of Dune</i>. © Ace Books</td></tr>
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I was
inspired by the design of the encounter though. There was a threat that
the initial opponents might be joined by a significant lurking presence.
I likened it to one of the sandworms from <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dune_universe">Dune</a></i>, but that is mostly player conjecture. I’ll have to wait to find out next week what the creature is really about.<br />
<br /><b></b>The design of the encounter echoed what the librarian had said. As players, we throw our characters into encounters with expectations about how they will resolve. As GMs, we can design encounters that create a set of expectations. What makes for a good story is a complication. A second tier to the encounter. Something that disrupts the players’ expectations and forces them to change their plans. In Dave’s encounter, there was the lurking threat of the creature to consider, but we had our hands full with the NPCs escorting the thing. The scope of that threat is, as yet, unknown.<br /><br />In my Sunday game my players are fleeing through the sewers and subterranean ruins of a mighty metropolis, escorting a scholarly expert to the site of a rift, where beings from the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Far_Realm">Far Realm</a> are imposing their aberrant, tentacled presences on the well-meaning folk of a local shrine. This scholar may have insights that are critical to thwarting the menace. Of course the path to the shrine is a hazardous one. In Sunday’s session they encountered a tribe of goblins and their mad chief, Ximenes. The tribe worshipped a creature, the blackworm, that laired in the sewer depths.<br /><br />The Blackworm tribe demanded a toll for passing through their territory. When the coin offered by the party was insufficient, the goblins kidnapped the vulnerable and valuable scholar and bound him within a metal statue of their god in a huge vaulted chamber. The party, attempted a parley, and then launched an attack, felling swaths of goblin minions as they swarmed forward. The mad Ximenes chanted out a ritual of unknown significance and then joined the fray, wielding magic and a great mace with equally deadly effect. Just as it looked like the party was claiming victory, and with many resources used to reach that point, one of the pools in the chamber seethed and spat ichor, and a black dragon rose out of it, spewing an acidic cloud at party and goblins alike. The ritual of Ximenes had apparently succeeded.<br /><br />This two-tiered encounter was a surprise to the party, and they had to think quickly about how to deal with the complication. They had liberated the scholar, and their mission could continue only if they survived the current challenge. After a bit of consideration, they chose to flee, engineering covering fire and spellcraft to help ensure their escape.<br /><br />All in all, it was a successful session for everyone. I have the librarian and my fellow player and GM Dave to thank for the inspiration and reminder about what makes a good story. Stuff I’ll keep foremost in mind as I’m designing encounters in the future. As always I’d love to hear about story complications and challenges you’ve faced, and what made them work, or caused them to fail.<br />Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-32938148052468859112011-11-11T05:00:00.000-08:002011-11-11T05:00:28.146-08:00Delves: In the Baltics<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl7b9yKC8XaqB4aajQTPBJuduBvEJphZPgLjtMV-CpWkehk5aYhnPqRaEEDXErJ9aHeGD5j5kxOlB5zGrql-agnkLX3FDB6Ij9GpOj_DxHrXtE87piSqp1Cuqcf9RWf4eKs5iB3H-shRYW/s1600/Cesis-Castle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl7b9yKC8XaqB4aajQTPBJuduBvEJphZPgLjtMV-CpWkehk5aYhnPqRaEEDXErJ9aHeGD5j5kxOlB5zGrql-agnkLX3FDB6Ij9GpOj_DxHrXtE87piSqp1Cuqcf9RWf4eKs5iB3H-shRYW/s320/Cesis-Castle.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Approaching Castle Cēsis, Latvia </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Over at Hill Cantons, yesterday there was a cool discussion of <a href="http://hillcantons.blogspot.com/2011/11/sense-of-place-in-fantasy.html">the sense of place in fantasy</a>. I'm sharing my <i>Delves</i>
images to illustrate some of the places that have given me a fantastic
sense of place over the years, and I hope they'll prove entertaining to
you as well. In this series, I'm revisiting our trip to the Baltic
states, including Sweden, Latvia, and Estonia.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWSdYkKGyKivpI1fhAv7PLLIB9kIMdJXTcw_l10gvm9dHrq6NKJV64TQpDRCWH_E5BFFSfkocM4q74NXevsRXyRJXtIXrlcOqabABjmRwj9ZDF5kGJOMULMND7yasgPnbroOQ69u5T44bV/s1600/Below-Cesis-Castle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWSdYkKGyKivpI1fhAv7PLLIB9kIMdJXTcw_l10gvm9dHrq6NKJV64TQpDRCWH_E5BFFSfkocM4q74NXevsRXyRJXtIXrlcOqabABjmRwj9ZDF5kGJOMULMND7yasgPnbroOQ69u5T44bV/s320/Below-Cesis-Castle.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Exploring below Castle Cēsis</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Some of my <i>Delve</i> images will be more documentary
in nature, while others (such as the algae-covered pond in Stockholm)
seem to evoke weird or fantastic scenery that one might encounter in the
RPG wilderness.<br />
<br />
Communicating images to players using words alone can be a challenge. Combining the hands-on experience of descending into the cool darkness below a castle, and an image or two can be helpful. I find myself remembering the other elements of the experience as well. The smells and sounds that can make the scene more real to players when they're described.<br />
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<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZfxnFB8-HKf1ZVM-khIeeZ-2AF-2mtAdF9tYVvj4HkP1_gXHcBfQ-UoUlRHrUOQs6hF1BjrtIbxS61D9CoYGqpND2QRd6x3aYzAUqa0-h6xsdMlNqSFvV3T1BaCRu-w757vRBk_Q2Rpwz/s1600/Kuressaare-Castle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZfxnFB8-HKf1ZVM-khIeeZ-2AF-2mtAdF9tYVvj4HkP1_gXHcBfQ-UoUlRHrUOQs6hF1BjrtIbxS61D9CoYGqpND2QRd6x3aYzAUqa0-h6xsdMlNqSFvV3T1BaCRu-w757vRBk_Q2Rpwz/s320/Kuressaare-Castle.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kuressaare Castle, Saaremaa Island, Estonia</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtODybLwXp9FrJ1tT8pjqTYoxhAm-HJ3zWesQLcPKd7sgMLTK9nGlM-5QlqP9_avXBEH6F3WGg5-c6j6lImtv6Qji0KR_-uvC1nKNp6l9wPlWnDdvEOHx5q5-6wu7tWyh2V-F6cft297yK/s1600/skansen_stockholm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtODybLwXp9FrJ1tT8pjqTYoxhAm-HJ3zWesQLcPKd7sgMLTK9nGlM-5QlqP9_avXBEH6F3WGg5-c6j6lImtv6Qji0KR_-uvC1nKNp6l9wPlWnDdvEOHx5q5-6wu7tWyh2V-F6cft297yK/s320/skansen_stockholm.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Skansen Park, Stockholm, Sweden</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-49486155797177801482011-11-10T10:08:00.001-08:002011-11-10T10:17:39.194-08:00D&D Encounters: The Good Parts<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>Anyway, here’s the “good parts” version. S. Morgenstern wrote it. And my father read it to me. And now I give it to you. What you do with it will be of more than passing interest to us all.</i><i></i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>—William Goldman, The Princess Bride</i> </blockquote>
<br />Role-playing games are the “good parts” versions of the stories they tell. The sword fight atop the Cliffs of Insanity, or the escape from the labyrinth of the Zoo of Death. The most recent season of D&D Encounters, the <i>Lost Crown of Neverwinter</i>, was drawn from the <i><a href="http://www.wizards.com/DnD/Product.aspx?x=dnd/products/dndacc/317290000">Neverwinter Campaign Setting</a></i>, which is a gazetteer of the city and environs of Neverwinter from the <a href="http://www.wizards.com/DnD/Product.aspx?x=dnd/products/dndacc/218287200">Forgotten Realms campaign setting</a>.<br /><br />I recently concluded my Encounters GMing duties at <a href="http://www.cardkingdom.com/static/storeinfo/info">Card Kingdom</a>, one of several FLGSs in my neck of the woods. I was fortunate to have a number of players who attended regularly and played creatively. (Shout out to Kevin “Kez the drow”; Leon “Byron the paladin”; Jordan “Reigh the cleric”; and Brooks “Monkeybeard the rogue”.) They formed a foundation at the table for people who dropped by to try out the game, or happened to be in town on vacation (like the couple visiting from the Netherlands one week in September who chose to spend part of their vacation gaming with us. Shout out to Irene and Boris, if my notes are right about your names!)<br /><br />This season of Encounters was written as an introduction to the convoluted politics of the Neverwinter area. The campaign setting book is, in my opinion, a departure from recent WotC material in that it contains a nearly overwhelming amount of story material, the intrigues and capabilities of the many interest groups vying for some part of the ruins of this once-great city. My impression is that the authors intend GMs to pick and choose the groups that they regard as the “good parts” of the story, and build their own Neverwinters from there. The story of the season unfolded doing just that, placing the party in the middle of several groups, and allowing some room for players to evolve alliances within the limitations of the Encounters format of a serial story.<br /><br />The adventure season, written by Erik Scott de Bie, was pretty entertaining from a GMs perspective, with notable NPCs to role-play and several challenging combat encounters. I enjoyed the fact that there was enough information in the provided materials that my players were able to talk their way through what was designed as a combat encounter in the House of a Thousand Faces, and yet were just as entertained as if they had fought.<br /><br />The season opened with a prelude story that was an optional introduction, and billed as a coming out session for the <i>Neverwinter Campaign Setting</i>. Unfortunately, due to release timing, the book itself was difficult to get a hold of at the time, and this meant that the convoluted backgrounds and themes available to add dimension to the role-playing aspects of the season weren’t equally available to all players. The <i>Lost Crown of Neverwinter</i> adventure contained hooks for players using the theme information, but having got off on that awkward first step, this aspect of the season never really materialized at my table. I blame myself in part, but looking at the complexity it represented in the context of the variably-attended Encounters sessions, it was going to be a challenge to realize all of that anyway.<br /><br />Looking at the materials for the upcoming Encounters season, <i>Beyond the Crystal Cave</i>, which introduces the <a href="http://www.wizards.com/DnD/Product.aspx?x=dnd/products/dndacc/317310000"><i>Player’s Option: Heroes of the Feywild</i></a> book, I think they’ve addressed this issue. I’m looking forward to running this one, and plan on working in a different way to help make themes and setting elements a more integral part of the adventure season.<br /><br />Players expect a D&D session to be the “good parts” of a story. That’s why they’re there. The gratification of heroic action and interaction that makes a difference in how the story unfolds. That’s one of the challenges of a program like Encounters where the story needs to be fairly established and somewhat linear. This is where it becomes a challenge for the GM to convey the impact of the player’s actions in such a way that they feel as if they are the agents of change.<br /><br />One of the great challenges of RPGs in general is the crafting of a truly cooperative story. Finding the balance between story elements, player choices, encounter results, and GM designs that feels like a “good parts” story to everyone at the table. It’s nice to have materials like the <i>Neverwinter Campaign Setting</i> and <i>Heroes of the Feywild</i> as resources, and I hope WotC continues to develop materials like this. However, it’s up to the players and GMs to decide what are the “good parts” for their campaign. Using them all creates an overwhelming mess (as the Encounters season just completed could have been if too many more of the <i>Neverwinter Campaign Setting</i> power groups had been represented.)<br /><br />So, what were the “good parts” of Encounters for you? Or, what are the “good parts” of any campaign you’re involved in? Do you prefer one type over another, or a mixture of “good parts”? What you do with your game and gaming experience is "of more than passing interest to us all"! <br />Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3137427717203852100.post-89524944414778166212011-11-09T05:00:00.000-08:002011-11-09T05:00:02.274-08:00In Character: The Characterization of Denar<a href="http://anarkeith.blogspot.com/2011/10/in-character-denar.html">Denar</a> is a character I’m playing in an Eberron campaign. The character has a low intelligence score. So, the shtick is to make the occasional obvious observation, or to gaze silently at NPCs who speak in complex phrasings, or use big words. It’s a little bit like <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Homer_Simpson#Character_development">Homer Simpson</a>. Trouble is I’d like to play a more diversified role in the game than comic relief. So, I’m looking at strategies to expand my vocabulary of characterization. (Yesterday it was all about expanding my <a href="http://anarkeith.blogspot.com/2011/11/developing-game-vocabulary.html%20">rules vocabulary</a> as a GM, today I’m looking at it from the player’s angle.)<br /><br />Denar also has a high charisma. I could play her as a classic low-intelligence, tough-guy stereotype in an <a href="http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/CuteBruiser">alternative package</a>. But, what I’ve chosen to emphasize is force of personality. This is the sort of character who radiates an intimidating vibe. (It helps that the character is a drow, a dark elf. Granted, it’s not a particularly original characterization, but that’s why I’m interested in ways to make it more sophisticated.) I’m working on a sort of a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dirty_Harry">Dirty Harry</a> vibe:<br /><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>The Killer: [pleading] Please. Stop. No more! Can't you see I'm hurt?<br />Harry Callahan: The girl, where is she?<br />The Killer: [crying with reason] You tried to kill me.<br />Harry Callahan: If I tried that your head would be splattered all over this field.</i> </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>— </i><i>Dirty Harry [1971]</i></blockquote>
<br />So, how do I combine Homer Simpson and Dirty Harry?<br /><br />Like Harry Callahan, my character is a loose cannon. She has been effectively exiled to the surface for not submitting to the drow authorities, who had determined she was too small to fight, and too stupid to create or steal the weapons they needed for their war against the aberrations invading the Underdark.<br /><br />Like Homer Simpson my character is a survivor, and impulsive. 4e D&D has many avenues for dramatic recovery from equally dramatic damage. The character class I’ve chosen, the Blackguard from <i>Heroes of Shadow</i>, has multiple functions for generating temporary hit points, increasing survivability. The Blackguard may also use hit points as a resource, expending them to do more damage to foes. The image of a hero savaged by the circumstances of an encounter, like Mel Gibson’s Road Warrior Max, is a good approximation.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>Homer is launching himself headfirst into every single impulsive thought that occurs to him.</i></blockquote>
<blockquote>
<i> — Matt Groening, creator of the Simpsons</i></blockquote>
<br />Denar doesn’t spend a lot of mental energy analyzing situations. What mental energy there is is reserved for action. Like Homer, who is described by director David Silverman as "creatively brilliant in his stupidity", Denar operates with complete disregard for safety, either her own or those around her, dabbling in mixing alchemical substances, and creating explosive devices. Like Scarlet the squirrel from Philip Jackson’s webcomic <a href="http://www.collectedcurios.com/sequentialart.php"><i>Sequential Art</i></a>, Denar can <a href="http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/GeniusDitz%20">accidentally</a> create mechanisms and compounds of a deadly nature.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu5J6FqAXAB3x8b7ru4jNVCnHmkvdXygfudWR2DPmvpoGtV4Jni84GYgFcWqHE2jeYz_LLnbaQL4UKLVGL23BxVF-bQcctWWHK5hAnH9D4S3dwYXdHXGnPvJf7trq5yfdDFEFRheqwaJMK/s1600/sequentual_art_genius_ditz2_9171.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu5J6FqAXAB3x8b7ru4jNVCnHmkvdXygfudWR2DPmvpoGtV4Jni84GYgFcWqHE2jeYz_LLnbaQL4UKLVGL23BxVF-bQcctWWHK5hAnH9D4S3dwYXdHXGnPvJf7trq5yfdDFEFRheqwaJMK/s1600/sequentual_art_genius_ditz2_9171.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From <i>Sequential Art</i> by Philip Jackso</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I’m looking for ways to play this without going all <a href="http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/LeeroyJenkins">Leeroy Jenkins</a> on the other players. I’ll try to play the accidentally deadly creations to the benefit of the team, presented by Denar as sort of an afterthought, representing her casual disregard for their potential for mayhem.<br />In the end, through all the mayhem, I hope that Denar will be able to save her people and the other members of the party. Despite her background and the common perceptions of the drow in RPGs, I'd like it to play out that her actions end up with a "good" result. She'll end up as a personification of the weapons she reveres, capable of destruction, yet without much intent.<br /><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>I've heard a great deal about you, Fa Mulan. You stole your father's armor, ran away from home, impersonated a soldier, deceived your commanding officer, dishonored the Chinese Army, destroyed my palace, and... you have saved us all.</i></blockquote>
<blockquote>
<i>— Emperor, Mulan [1998]</i></blockquote>
<br />That's not to say she herself would have no intent. She's intent on proving the drow authorities wrong in their judgment of her. Proving herself both as a warrior, and an operative clever enough to secure the weapons the dark elves need to defeat the aberrant horde. And she's well aware (obsessively so) of a sense of mission in that regard.<br />
<br />
I’d love to hear what you draw from when imagining your characters, and how you express those ideas in the game. If you have any suggestions on further development for Denar, I’d love to hear those as well.Keith Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00059044388944936192noreply@blogger.com4