The "Drift"

[a necessary interlude]

From the comments on Tuesday's post:

GusL wrote:

In general I agree that 5E, Critical Roll and all the other contemporary forms of design and play feel new. I've tried to understand them, and frankly I don't get it. I'd like someone who does to tell me what it's about, but I haven't seen anyway really explain the joys of that playstyle...

and Jojodogboy wrote:

...modern players has moved away from rpgs as game to rpg as event. 

Resource management was part of the original design, as logistical planning was taken from other games at the time. That means encumbrance and bookkeeping. Same thing with xp. It is a way to keep "score". This is also a game element requiring bookkeeping. A third game element was the concept of player selected difficulty, meaning that players set levels of risk by going "deeper". Higher risk, but more reward. Finally, as an example, wandering monsters were a game element added to create a time and resource pressure on the party. 

Each example small piece above were hand waived or ignored over the years, for a variety of reasons.As each of these pieces (and others, such as asymmetrical class progression and sandbox play) were removed, D&D moved away from being a game and more towards becoming an experience.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, none of this is really "new." 

From The Forge: Provisional Glossary (Ron Edwards, 2004):

Drift

Changing from one Creative Agenda to another, or from the lack of shared Creative Agenda to a specific one, during play, typically through changing the System. In observational terms, often marked by openly deciding to ignore or alter the use of a given rule. 

Creative Agenda

The aesthetic priorities and any matters of imaginative interest regarding role-playing.

Emphasis added by yours truly. Please note, that I'm not using the old (since deemed obsolete) terms described as GNS (Gamist, Narrativist, Simulationist). Instead, think of "creative agenda" as an individual or group's "priority of play."

Edwards's 2003 essay A Hard Look at Dungeons & Dragons is also a helpful starting point. However, the most important thing to take away from that article (for purposes of this blog post) is:

Prior to AD&D2, the available texts were reflective, not prescriptive, of actual play. Their content was filtered through authors' priorities which were very diverse.

[evidence to support this statement, especially the first sentence, can be found in a multitude of interviews with the original developers of the game that are available on the internet (especially from Ernie Gygax and Mike Carr, DMG editior). A common theme is "we were writing up the rules as they were played." Evidence of the different priorities can be seen in the recounting of different styles of play between such individuals as Gygax, Arneson, Ed Greenwood, Bill Willingham, etc.]

Edwards (along with others) was attempting to formulate some grand theories of RPG design; something that (at the moment) I have exceedingly little interest in doing. But to do so, he had to take a look at Dungeons & Dragons, how it developed over time (if only in passing), and how later RPGs were derived from it and the early hobbyists. This he did all the way up to the D20 (3rd/3.5 edition) days. For my purposes, digging out the pertinent D&D stuff is a damn chore, made harder by the lack of importance he attached to the game other than as an interesting point in the evolution of role-playing...but the digging can yield some results.

And here's the thing one finds: the development (whether for the good or the bad) of the D&D game is a damn repeating cycle. Wargames provided a systemization of war; Braunstein injected story-centered elements into the system. D&D provided a systemization of those individual stories; mid-80s D&D added "meaning" (story again) to the campaigns that D&D developed. 3E and 4E tried to add back (or re-emphasize) system/mechanics for D&D; 5E added backgrounds and story-oriented mechanics (like insight, advantage/disadvantage, etc.) back to those mechanics. 

Every time D&D gets around to nailing down how it wants to be a game, someone's imagination gets fired up and says, "gosh, it's too bad the rules get in the way of us doing this..."

Reading that quote from Jojodogboy, I was struck by how much this was directly reflected my own experience in the 1980s. We did play with all the rules, but we gradually found ways to sidestep (or ignore) rules that "detracted" from the (non-bookkeeping) play at the table. Encumbrance getting you down? Make sure you have enchanted armor and portable holes. Don't want to count rations? The party finds a new magic item: a bag of food, that makes sure you're always provisioned. Need to stop worrying about training costs and general leveling? Just introduce new characters already leveled to an appropriate number for the current scenario (like pre-gens, except they then become permanent PCs or NPCs)...especially ones with (*shudder*) backstories that linked them into the ongoing campaign.

All of which is to say: we (my group) started drifting play to something other than resource management, challenge driven Dungeons & Dragons. Something far more interested in character interaction, and far less concerned with dungeon exploration...even though we weren't playing Dragonlance or 2E or anything (this was circa '86 and '87). What do high level characters do? They plot...often against each other, when other actors (patrons, nemeses) aren't present in the campaign.

But this type of play isn't expressly present in the AD&D (yes, Jeffro, it can be inferred from hints found in the DMG, but it's far from explicit). And it's not even close to being supported by the rules (Quick! What's the dowry for a French baroness? How much arable land do you need to grow enough grain for your standing army without starving the peasantry? What's the cost to build a working mill and how many assistants does the miller need? Can they be goblins? At what point does a patriarch achieve "saint" status? Etc.). Played over a long enough period of time, events arise that are far outside the scope of the instructional text...and often these things take hold of our imaginations with far more "grip" than the study of pole arm differences.

And when the "bean counting" of the actual rules get in the way of these "more interesting things," well, what do you suppose happens to them? They drop away, of course...shunted to the side. So it goes. And folks start asking "why can't my wizard use a sword?" And perhaps you invent a mechanic for it (martial weapon proficiency feat, anyone?). Or perhaps you don't. Perhaps you don't care that a beer run may be beneath the dignity of 8th level characters. Maybe you just think a beer run (with necromancers) sounds like a fun side trek. D&D is the "anything game," right? And you can certainly drift it however you like. Folks have been doing so decades before the current edition of D&D was published.

So what's the difference? Here's the difference: while "drifting" of play has existed since the primordial days of D&D (in part because of the way the original, incomplete rules spread in incomplete fashion), the decision whether or not to drift play (and how play drifted) was confined to individual playgroups. A new group, going to the store and picking up a rule set would start with an instructional text (mentored by veteran players...or not) and then go their merry way. In isolation.

Now we have the internet. 

NOW we have "social media platforms." Now we have streaming videos. Now we have talking heads discussing their drifted play theories developed (perhaps) as a personal style/preference and promoting it as the true or correct method of play. And we have players learning how to play from these sources because:

A) a laissez-faire attitude from the flagship publishers (hey, play what you like...just pay us), 

B) an instructional text that is not written for accessibility (too large, too padded, for a fan base that...let's face the reality of our times...aren't super into reading instructions).

C) a system of rules that...since at least 1989...has been largely facing issues of incoherence. That's another "Forge-y" term (apologies) which, in this context, I'll define as "outlining a priority of play without providing a system of rules that support that priority."

FOR EXAMPLE: stating D&D is about creating and telling stories without providing you with tools (rules, game mechanics) that allow players to address premise, create and control plot arcs, or that are overburdened with simulation minutia (how many coins does a backpack hold? how much damage does a long sword do?...as opposed to deciding whether a fight - and the outcome of the fight - furthers the story being told at this particular moment). 

Incoherence in design ends up leading to drifting a system into "something else" (see the definition of "Drift" above: not just disregarding rules that are "inconvenient" but also ignoring or "fudging" dice results that don't support the preferred outcome...whether that be "fun" or "telling a good story" or both!). And while an individual table wishing to drift their game (as mine did, BITD) is FINE (if a bit silly...there are other games DESIGNED to do these things), holding up drifted play as "proper play" (and promoting it as such) is problematic, in a number of ways:

• It confounds as confuses newbies (not a way to grow the hobby)
• It fractures and polarizes the gaming community.
• It stymies actual innovation (there ARE other games to play).
• It promotes an attitude of rule-breaking (this has carry over to other arenas).
• It disregards what the system does well.

And, for me, that last point is what I hope to address in my next post: getting back to what actual D&D is, and some of the elements of the game that we should be championing.

[one last point: the rise of the internet and the ease with which individuals can now publish their own gaming material...specifically adventures and supplements...is also a major issue, when the publications are based on poor understanding and/or drifted play. These modules and supplements provide part of the text by which players and DMs learn the game...following the examples of others!...and if these are written in incoherent fashion, it can lead to even more frustration and misunderstanding]

More later. 

Meat Shields

Regarding the introducing of the B/X game to new players, ViP asked (in the comments) how I felt about “giving each player two or more PCs, or a bodyguard, or an animal companion” in order to counter the initial deadliness of the game design. ViP cites the DCC “funnel system” (the practice of starting an adventure/campaign with multiple characters, presuming a high death toll) as a workable model.

The TL;DR answer: not a huge fan of the idea.

For those interested in my extended thoughts:

I’ve played DCC more than a couple times. I’ve also played in B/X campaigns where I was allowed multiple 1st level characters to start, with pretty much the exact goal as DCC: allow players a little leeway, without cutting down on the overall deadliness. I’ve also had the opportunity to run multiple characters in games when we were lacking a sufficient number of players at the table; that experience isn’t limited to B/X, either (I was asked to run multiple characters in one of my last ever 3rd edition games).

Here’s the thing: AS A PLAYER, running multiple characters in a game does not give me the same experience as running a single character. For me, I’ve found the practice gives me a lesser experience; that is, the experience of role-playing, the main reason I’m playing a tabletop game is diminished in having to split my attention between multiple characters. I don’t get the same “buzz” from driving two (or more) characters; what occurs instead is that I lose my subjective immersion in the game experience and become much more of an objective “game player.”

To use some Forge-y terms (which I know some of my readers detest), running multiple characters throws me immediately into “author stance” with respect to my characters…the same perspective I have when I am a DM running multiple NPCs. Perhaps this is a side effect of having run so many games (and so many NPCs) as a DM/GM over the years. Regardless of the reason, caring for more than one character causes me to lose my feeling of immersion in the game world…and the game, for me, becomes much more about practical game play, and much less about escapism.

I am trying hard (at this moment) to think of a time as a DM when I allowed players to run multiple characters in one of my games. I honestly can’t remember any (former players of mine reading this: feel free to correct my aging memory). I would much rather adjust/change the adventure, or increase the PCs’ experience levels (for a one-off adventure), or assign multiple NPCs to a party (that I, the DM, will run) then require or allow players to run multiple characters in a game session. When I run a D&D game, I want to give the players an immersive experience; I want players to feel like they are in the game. These days I am of the opinion that most of the enjoyment of D&D play is derived from being experiential and while (in the past) I did not fully grasp this concept, I was fortunate enough to run games in a style that (often) allowed this experience to unfold. Now…I wouldn’t want to run a game in any other way and, to that end, I would forgo any type of “funnel system” that deprived players of the single character experience.

Regarding ViP's other suggestions:

I’ve blogged before (and at length) about retainers in B/X. I’ve also offered my own ideas for adding “built-in” animal companions and bodyguards (see my B/X exceptional traits…some of the entries on the list provide just this type of bennie). My thoughts on the matter, and on hired “meat shields” in general, has shifted somewhat over time.

First, let me say that with regard to “retainers,” the B/X system’s brevity on the subject causes it to fall down. B/X is just a streamlined, cleaned-up version of OD&D and does an exceptional job in most of the slights changes to the original system. However, in subsuming the “Loyalty” system into “Morale” and providing a specific system of when to apply it to retainers, Moldvay goes a long way to undermining the concept of retainers as longstanding henchpersons and companions.

Per the rules printed on page B27 (and, yes, I realize these are listed as optional, but the Morale system in B/X is a rather key component of the game; cutting it results in multiple problems) retainers much check Morale after each adventure with failure indicating the retainer "will not adventure with their employer again."  That is damn fickle considering a PC of average charisma will only command NPCs with a morale score of 7 (possibly 8 if providing lavish rewards and shares of loot). That’s a 42% chance of desertion after each game session (as “adventure” is defined in B/X)! Even improving that morale to 8 only reduces the chance to 28%, meaning you’re fairly likely to lose your retainers after four game sessions; that’s a month of (weekly) play! The Cook/Marsh expert set talks blithely of “permanent NPC retainers” (on page X59) but then provide the exact same morale rules as Moldvay (on X26).

Clearly house rules on the subject are necessary unless you want your campaign world to resemble Vance’s Cugel to Clever, or similar (and perhaps you do). For me, I think the recruitment and grooming of loyal retainers is part of the overall system of character development that occurs in a long-term D&D campaign, helping to make the world more real for the players…and, thus, more immersive.

Jory Cassel, retainer

Retainers, in my opinion, should be MORE than simple “meat shields;” death or diminishment of a retainer is an appropriate alternative “loss” or penalty for players (in place of death or diminishment of their own characters). Players should not be cavalier about hiring retainers and allowing them to die in their stead…at least, not if they plan on hiring more in the future (word gets around…). But this only matters if you have retainers that stand fast with the PCs. Which doesn’t happen often given the B/X rules.

Mercenaries are a different matter. Here, the fickleness of the combined Morale/loyalty system is actually appropriate…and as mercenaries are pretty much expected to die “in service,” it’s less likely for PCs to take hits to their reputation for such losses, at least when it comes to hiring more mercenaries (they WILL however, take a hit to their pocketbook!).

Bronn, mercenary
(no last name)

I’ve always allowed the hiring of such NPCs to round out adventure parties…probably because it was suggested in the opening pages of B2: The Keep on the Borderlands (my first adventure module, included with the Moldvay basic set). The smart adventurers will save some of their starting money in order to acquire these types of hirelings, and I encourage this in new players. To me, a hired sword is just another choice of possible starting equipment for the beginning adventurer. I usually price mercs as 5gp to 10gp depending on equipment and assumed hazards (with expectations of bonuses or loot shares). Mercs in my games tend to follow my presumed prejudices regarding the type. I suppose they’d gain experience as a retainer, but such NPCs only rarely make more than one or two forays into a dungeon before dying or quitting (from a failed Morale test).

As for “animal companions?” Well, setting aside for the moment that I am a bit dissatisfied with how I did the exceptional traits (and would probably re-write them before using them)…I think such special characters fall into a category very similar to “loyal retainers.” They should probably only be provided as a reward for advancement (not something to start with at 1st level), as part of a character’s ongoing development. They should count against a character’s limit of retainers (based on Charisma), and they should not be considered simple “meat shields.” For me, an animal companion is something akin to a discovered magic item, and its loss should be a real blow to a character.

Expensive mounts and warhorses, I put in the same category as mercenaries…though their “loyalty” is assured so long as you remember to tie them up.
; )

How to Run (Part 2)

Just picking up where I left off...

Let's get right to it.

The book being discussed.

How to Run comes in at a bit more than 350 pages, though that includes an index, table of contents, and bibliography. After the introduction, it is divided into five sections including an appendix, the total comprising fifteen chapters (the last chapter, a bit of an epilogue, is in the appendix). The first four sections are comprised of the following:

Part 1: The Art of Presentation
Part 2: Managing Yourself as DM
Part 3: Managing Your Players
Part 4: Worldbuilding

Each section is composed of several chapters relating to specific topics. In addition, each chapter ends with a "Keys to Success" section that emphasizes or elaborates on specific points raised in the chapter. It's a handy trick for remembering what was discussed, and lends to the overall "textbook" feel of the book.

The introduction nicely lays out what the book is about. How to Run is both genre and system neutral; it does not discuss specific rules or editions of D&D, and though it refers to GM position throughout as "Dungeon Master" or "DM," Smolensk is careful to note that the outlined principles can be used in running any table-top RPG. I know that for his own game Alexis uses heavily modified (1st edition) AD&D in a campaign setting firmly rooted in the historic 17th century Earth. He mentions little (with regard to the specifics) of his campaign setting in How to Run, and nothing at all of his house rules or system...the text really does strive to be applicable to any RPG a person might try to run.

Which reminds me: while it is never specifically defined, contextually Mr. Smolensk uses the term role-play to simply describe the act of playing a role-playing game. In other words, if you are playing an RPG you are engaging in "role-play," pure and simple. For the purpose of his book and its concepts that's just fine.

PART ONE: The Art of Presentation

This is the largest section of the book, and (in my opinion) the meatiest part in terms of presenting real tools that can be of use to folks wishing to run a game. It provides excellent advice and checklists for even experienced DMs, and raises a lot of questions for self-examination in us "old-timers." I found myself nodding quite often, noting the things I had done that worked well and likewise the areas where I  had stumbled in my own games; the codifying of these things (always with an eye towards the goal: facilitating engagement of the players) is well done.

Chapter 1: The Early Days discusses Alexis's own initiation into running games, and gives the young DM an idea of the attitude with which the task needs to be approached (it's not as hard as it looks, but it does require time and effort, even effort outside of learning the game). Chapter 2: The Carrot and the Donkey discusses how to motivating and enticing your players, providing the best environment for them to succeed at the goal (of engagement); note, there's no "stick" for the donkey, only carrots. Chapter 3: The Players describes some stereotypical personality types one might find at your table, how to recognize them, how to work towards their strengths, and how each can be used to build a strong gaming group (these are interesting "types" based on Mr. Smolensk's own experience and perception, not the usual archetypes found in Jungian psychology or whatnot). Chapter 4: Drama offers a method for creating a traditional three-act (play) structure for folks who want to create "stories" with their game sessions, but the author has come to the conclusion that such is a weaker form of role-play than long-term engagement and immersion (or, at least, more difficult to sustain over time). In dispensing, with the idea of "story creation," he begins to discuss cause and effect, and ways to empower the players by allowing their actions to matter in the campaign, outside the plot machinations of a story-minded DM. Chapter 5: Continuity discusses several tools for gripping your players, making them care about participating (i.e. engaging them emotionally) beyond simply offering them missions, as well as elaborating on the discussion of cause and effect and how it contributes to the ongoing participation and enjoyment of the gaming experience.

I want to pause here for a moment to discuss Mr. Smolensk in relationship to another respected (if sometimes controversial) game designer, Ron Edwards. I personally find the two remarkably similar,  something like flip-sides of the same coin. This shouldn't be too surprising considering similar personality archetypes (both are Virgos born in 1964...no, I won't get into astrology right now, but with my own background that's a tough lens for me to ignore). Both have their detractors and admirers. Both are very intelligent and thoughtful. Both can be be prickly hardliners when it comes to their own beliefs. And both are extremely devoted to the service of the players at their table. Both seek to walk that line of using mental focus to bring about emotional engagement...but their approach to the same is very different. Edwards is devoted to the principal of "story now:" creating game mechanics that requires players to step up and engage with the narrative being created around the table. Smolensk would seem to be a standard-bearer for what the old GNS model called simulationism, or "the right to dream," creating a world one can escape into and experience. However, he has a ready answer for Edwards's "hard questions" regarding what it's all for and how long it will last: bluntly, all the work the DM does is for achieving an emotional engagement from the players, and goes beyond simply allowing players to explore an imaginary world as wizards and warriors (or whatever). It lasts for as long as the DM has the energy to devote to facilitating this process (in one blog posts, Alexis postulated having to retire the DM chair in the next 15-20 years). In many ways, the "Tao" of Alexis Smolensk is the antithesis of Ron Edwards, though I'd say both have a devotion to the hobby and an incredible ability to "think outside the box" when it comes to pushing gaming in new directions.

*ahem*

Chapter 6: Pomp discusses actual presentation and the logistics of running a game...how to show up and make arrangements, and how taking care of real world issues can create a better (more engaging, less distracting) game environment. It talks about ways to facilitate engagement through your appearance and movement, and the benefits of preparation, as well as how best to set breaks and ground rules...things often left out of most RPG game manuals.. It's good stuff for anyone who plans on running a game.

All in all, I found a lot of good material in this section. It certainly gave me a lot of food for thought with regard to self-examination (as both a DM and player).

PART 2: Managing Yourself as DM

This section is only composed of two chapters, a total of 55 pages. For me, it was the first section that I found challenging. Not because it was hard to read or too abstract in concept (that comes later), but because it challenges you on what you really think about role-playing games and being a DM. While Part 1 requires you to approach the running of an RPG with a serious, non-casual approach, Part 2 requires you to approach idea of DM'ing almost as a vocation. It is not explicit in this, does not require you take any vows, but if you plan on following the prescribed course, you're basically committing yourself to making your game much more than a "mere game."

Chapter 7: Vigilance discusses how your game must always be "on" when you're at the table. Even when you are acting in service of your players (remember, that is one of the main thrusts of the book), you can't let little things like, say, "friendship" get in the way of your focus or attention to the task at hand. The vigilance Mr. Smolensk prescribes (with regard to oneself) is a near ruthless stance. He discusses stress in the game (both for players and DM) as a product of an engaging role-play experience, and its chemical effect on the brain and decision-making process.

This particular part did not ring true for me (perhaps because I tend to compartmentalize stress)...but then perhaps it's been a while since I had a truly engaging immersive role-play experience. I have to think back to my youth for examples of events that propelled extreme emotional outbursts in myself...though I have observed it in others to greater and lesser degrees over the years. Perhaps my decades of experience of telling myself "it's only a game" has done a bit to dull the shine, or perhaps I am simply out of practice when it comes to full-on emotional commitment in the last 15 years or so. However, I can see how my own response to players who "just want a fun night out" has caused (in the last couple years) a downward spiral in actual gaming quality, as I too forgot focus and allowed myself to lounge in the easy camaraderie and laissez-faire attitude of "dudes blowing off steam at the bar."

[that's something else that I don't have enough of in my life!]

But that's what I mean by "challenging." Without asking it outright, Alexis is posing a question: how seriously do you want to take your game? And what quality of play do you want to have? It's a valid question. I can do the indie one-off gaming thing very easily...I can likewise run a simple "dungeon excursion" with minimal effort...but is that satisfying? It's a hard question. If I'm being honest, the answer is: probably not. Certainly not always.

If you decide to buy into the effort described in Chapter 7, then Chapter 8: Decision Making provides additional practical tools to help with your game, from non-attachment (rolling with the unexpected), to anticipating patterns of behavior, to using checklists and worksheets (goes hand-in-hand with the management of stress-related mental slips).

Once again I see I'm running long, so I'm going to have to continue this till tomorrow. Sorry!

Fantasy Objectives (Part 2)

Okay, so where was I? Oh, yeah…objectives.

Dungeons & Dragons, regardless of its wargaming roots or its role-playing features, meets the definition of game because it has an objective of play. People sit down at the table asking, “What are we supposed to do in this game?” and the referee/DM can answer them succinctly. Specifically:

You’re looking for treasure; don’t get killed doing it.

Other early RPGs, too, have (relatively) clear and explicit objectives of play…though perhaps only because the design was informed by the D&D/wargame model. In Top Secret you are given missions and receive cash and XP in direct relation to the actions accomplished, especially as relates to your character’s “bureau” classification. In Gamma World characters search the post-apocalyptic ruins of ancient cities and installations, looking for treasure in the form of “artifacts” and, yes, gold. Boot Hill generally boils down to a number of gunfighting scenarios where the object is the simple kill or be killed…all roads lead to the same destination in BH.

However, once RPGs start getting away from the wargame/D&D paradigm, we see games start to lose any type of concrete objective of play. And losing that concrete objective means losing the very thing that makes the game a “game.” This problematic flaw of design (I’ll call it a “flaw” now, though I’ve used more derogatory language in the past) persists for a couple decades until the advent of the indie RPG “movement” and the creation of those “Story Now” games that tend to be relegated to the back shelf of the game shop.

[we’ll get to that in a moment]

Non-RPG games have objectives of play…and these objectives are explicit in their instructions. The instructions, the rules, give the parameters for achieving those objectives. Now some folks might ask:

JB…are you saying all these RPGs need to be as competitive as card and board games? That they need “victory” conditions of some sort? Like Monopoly or Magic: the Gathering or Chinese checkers? And if they don’t have a winner than they can’t be considered “games?”

No, a game can be a game without an objective that involves beating someone’s ass. Games can be cooperative, and not just in a “my-team-versus-your-team” kind of way. The object of the card game Once Upon A Time is to create a story using the cards dealt to the players; yes, the game has a “winner” (the person who drains their hand first), but it is explicitly emphasized in the rules that this should be a secondary consideration to the crafting a good tale. In Jenga, all players are working to build the tower with the object of not knocking down the blocks…the game doesn’t have a “winner” only a “loser,” though really EVERYONE loses if the blocks get knocked down, since this stops play (games like Twister are similar). In the classic party game Telephone players take turns whispering a particular sentence from one to another, with the explicit object being to perfectly “pass” the phrase all the way down the line. Of course this almost never happens, resulting in much fun and hilarity…but the “rules” and “objective” of the game are clear, with the play itself resulting in a fun “win” for everyone.

The object of a role-playing game doesn’t have to be killing things and taking their stuff. That works for the somewhat thuggish, treasure-hunting premise of D&D but is decidedly inappropriate for other flavors of fantasy role-playing. But as a game, you still need some objective. You need something as an object of play.

I wrote previously that “to have fun” is not an objective of play; fun is an expectation of play, and we play games expecting to have a good time. Here’s another thing that’s NOT an objective of play:

Creating an imaginary character and going on adventures.

The phrase isn’t the object of play, it simply describes play itself…the action that should, in theory, lead to the objective (if the RPG were written with objective firmly in the cross-hairs of the designer). Without creating the “roles” for players to play, no “role-playing” can occur. And since the act of character creation isn’t itself the game (all apologies to White Wolf and Pathfinder), the adventure – i.e. the exploration of the imaginary world by the characters – is a necessary part of game play. Without it, you simply have some nice concepts written on paper: beached whales longing for the open sea.

[yeah, that’s a weird analogy]

So the game play of a role-playing game has “imaginary characters going on adventures,” with the specific systems (“rules”) differing from game to game. But for a game to be a proper, functional game it still requires an objective of play…and it’s downright incredible to me how many games fail in this regard.

Yes, yes, yes…I know there are plenty of people who have played and enjoyed these “flawed” games. Hell, people continue to play and enjoy them. There are couple reasons why, even in the absence of a specific objective, such games can “work” (I use the term only to mean that there is functional play that occurs, regardless of the quality of that play):

1. Long-time gamers incorporate previously learned suppositions into the game play of otherwise objective-less games; for example, creating site-based adventures (i.e. “dungeons”) into fantasy games like Stormbringer or Star Frontiers (the introductory module for Star Frontiers includes an actual cavern complex…with numbered encounters and monsters…for exploration).
2. Games based on specific intellectual property (or IP with the serial numbers filed off) rely on participants’ knowledge of the IP or genre to create pastiche play aping the designated concept (see ElfQuest, Star Wars, Serenity, etc. for examples, as well as most RPGs of the “space opera” or “superhero” genre).

I would argue that gameplay for 99% (or more) of objective-less RPGs falls into one of these two categories, which basically means the participants are injecting their own objectives to account for a flaw of game design.

What if you took a game like, say, Risk or Monopoly and deleted any part of the rule book that pertained to the object of the game? You’d still have some rules available to you…how to set up, the order of play, etc…but you’d be missing a key part to the instruction, right? If you could find a person or two who’d played the game before (or who’d played a similar game) they’d certainly be able to help you out…but if you had no knowledge source to draw from? You’d be left grasping and guessing as to what it was all about. But then, maybe you just enjoy the accumulation of plastic army counters or fake paper money and that’s enough to satisfy you.

There is a conceit shared amongst many longtime gamers that all RPGs play pretty much the same…that the systems change, the themes and genre change, but that gameplay is “pretty much the same.” Here is a game about undead cowboys. Here is a game about pulp-era explorers. Here is a game about intrepid fantasy adventurers delving dungeons. Here is a game about steampunk time travelers in zeppelins.

Change character generation, change setting, change rules for “doing stuff,” change “reward system” (usually understood to be the method by which the imaginary avatar of “character” increases its in-game effectiveness)…but still doing the same old, same old. The only thing that causes one game to be played over another (besides group consensus at the game table is):

-        Interest in the new/different setting and characters

-        Interest in the new/different system of doing “that stuff we do in all RPGs”

Only as intense as you make it.

Now in recent years (the last decade or so) that’s changed a bit as the indie-game movement (especially folks interested in those damn Story Now games that facilitate a “narratavist” creative agenda), have made some inroads into returning RPGs to real games…i.e they’ve included objectives of play in their design, that have been so badly lacking in most “new” RPGs since the early 1980s. Games like Sorcerer and My Life With Master and InSpecters and Baron Munchausen (itself a hybrid game with a competitive edge) have distinct goals of play that the participants work towards over a session…much like an Old School D&D party works at digging the treasure out of well-guarded and hard-to-reach caches. Not every indie game does, of course…some (like The Riddle of Steel) fall prey to the same “flaw of design” found in other RPGs. And I don’t think the intent behind including objectives was to make the games more “game-like;” I think they were just trying to really define WHAT IT IS THE PLAYERS ARE DOING IN-PLAY WITH THE AUTHOR’S SYSTEM.

Specificity. Don’t fear it.

Now people who enjoy the hell out of “universal” RPG systems like GURPS and RISUS and whatever hate this kind of discussion, because the whole point of universal systems appears to be “give the players the tool kit they need to do anything they want.” They take umbrage with the idea that GURPS (for example) isn’t a “game” simply because it doesn’t include an in-play objective. “Bloody Hell!” they shout “That’s the whole damn POINT! I want a system that doesn’t tell me what I’m supposed to do, I want to create my own objectives of play.” Fine and dandy…GURPS isn’t a game; it’s a tool box to help you design your own game. (insert objective and) Enjoy it.

[actually, the snarky side of me would say GURPS IS a game with an actual objective of play; however, that objective is “to create a workable game using the GURPS system,” and that the play is in the design of the world/setting…i.e. the GM prep work…not in the actual play of the RPG itself]

Okay, that’s enough stomping on people’s feelings for now. More later.

[to be continued]

3 Stages of Exploration (Part 4)

[continued from here]

The types, the varieties of exploration offered by the D&D game are wonderful, but their design is terrible and terribly flawed, and this is because of the “organic” way in which those latter stages were “designed.” Basically they weren't…a dungeon delving game was designed, and when players wanted to do something more, extra rules got “tacked on.”

And I’m beginning to think this may be the ONLY way for Dungeons & Dragons to work “as intended,” i.e. to allow the campaign to organically evolve. When I was a kid, we played B/X (which is just OD&D with rule clarifications and better organization), and it worked great for us. The AD&D books were gradually added over time and that worked great, expanding our options. We took the game out of the dungeon, built up high level characters and meandered into Stage 3 play…all “organically” ourselves.

But since that time I’ve tried to start and run D&D campaigns that resembled that earlier “evolutionary” game and failed, failed, failed. You can’t do Stage 2 or Stage 3 in a new campaign without serious DM cream puffery and/or railroading and even doing that ends in a failure more often than not because players AREN’T INVESTED IN THEIR CHARACTERS...and not just because the characters are new and "history-less." It’s hard to get excited and enthused about a 1st level flunky that could get killed by an orc arrow on any unlucky roll, and I (and my adult players) just don’t have the time to devote to working characters “up the ladder” of development to get to these other stages of exploration.

D&D sucks this way. You’re forced to follow the parameters of the Basic stage (start off on the 1st level of a dungeon fighting ducks for chump change) and go through a long “dues paying” period before you can “get to the good stuff.” At least, if you’re playing the game as written. And tinkering with it too much just makes it…well, not D&D.

Case in point…when writing my own D&D (“D&D Mine”), long before I got around to thinking about these ideas (which has only been a couple days folks), I had already figured out the only way to make my game “work” like D&D was to create a setting for the game with a sprawling mega-dungeon built in. At the time, I wasn’t really grokking the WHY, I just knew that the WHAT (or rather the “HOW” as in “how the game is supposed to look and work”), only functioned properly with that. Or I should say, “functioned best.” And I was kind of surprised by that…surprised because I could see I was doing the same thing that had already been done long before me by Arneson (Blackmoor) and Gygax (Greyhawk) as well as plenty of others (for example, Maliszewski’s Dwimmermount).

Creating a city with built-in mega-dungeon and a local history, however, just doesn’t sit right with me. It doesn’t! And the REASON it doesn’t is because I want to play a fantasy adventure game, something that models the literary characters and heroic stories that D&D is supposed to be based on. How many times in Howard’s stories do you find Conan in some subterranean complex or mega-dungeon? Not very many, pal…he’s got more important things to do than crawl around a cobwebby dungeon with a torch. It certainly doesn't occupy the majority of his professional attention.

Recently, I’ve been playing in an on-line B/X game. My character, a cleric, is the closest of the party members to leveling up, but he’s still only 1st level and we’ve been playing since April. Actually, a couple of us (including me) have been playing since before then, as it was a table-top game that got converted to on-line in order to pick up additional players (and make it easier on our schedules).

There’s a large mega-dungeon we’ve been exploring, and a hometown, and a world history. However, at this point I’m choosing to make the mega-dungeon a secondary priority and spend most of my focus on proactively exploring the local politics; specifically, my intention to stir up a hornet’s nest by using treasure found in the ruins to fund a revolution to over-throw the invading Imperials that conquered my homeland a decade or so ago. Right now, my character is decked out in expensive (250gp) plate armor, riding a stout courser, and wielding a shiny dwarfsteel warhammer (when I’m not swinging my two-handed maul). I’ve acquired a normal human henchman from the local underground cult to which I belong and he’s outfitted on a draft horse with chainmail…he’s mainly for show, guarding the horses, and being my step-n-fetch. My character looks the part of a war leader and I’m trying to act the part in order to become the part…a kind of pseudo-medieval Pancho Villa. When last we left off, we were getting ready to jump a band of Imperial mercs encountered on the road, possibly risking being branded as outlaws by the local constabulary, but definitely striking a blow against “our oppressors.”

Did I mention my character’s 1st level? He’ll probably get hit by a lucky arrow shot and killed instantly. That’s what happened to the 1st level illusionist I started the campaign with.

The rules of D&D are not really conducive to this kind of play…and by that I mean, this type of play at 1st level (i.e. right out of the gate). And dammit, it should be. Why not? Personally, I plan on playing this game as if it were conducive until my character gets himself killed. And then…I don’t know, it will depend on the next character I roll up. But I’m not going to stunt my role-playing (head-thumping as the experience might be) just because the rules don’t cooperate.

D&D needs to be redesigned so that all the stages can be addressed at any time at any level. At least, I think it does. YOU may not. Hell, you may be reading this and saying, “I’m just trying to fight goblins and pick up gold, yo.” For how long? Until you get bored and decide you’ll stick it back up on the shelf for another 10-20 years? I guess if that’s your thought, than you’re probably not my target demographic.

There’s already a game-type game that gives you a chance to have tactical encounters in a dungeon (Basic Exploration) and roll dice: it’s called 4th Edition. There’s already a game that tries a hybrid between tactical encounters and rules-supported character development (still Basic exploration): it’s called D20 or Pathfinder. If that’s what you want, you’ve got it already folks. Heck, if you want an even simpler version with the same objective that doesn’t address character much at all, then you can play one of the various iterations of the board game Dungeon! which is plenty fun.

But for me, I don’t want those things. I want a nice, living, breathing game that uses a simple, abstract game system (sorry, Alexis) and yet addresses all three stages properly, allowing multiple forms of game play and exploration from all players, regardless of preference, right out of the gate.

Because you CAN be a low-level courtier, or wilderness scout…you shouldn’t have to wait till you're high level to try that type of game play. If I want to play a 16 year old Joan of Arc leading the French army to victory against the English, then dammit, there should be rules that allow that! What happened to “anything you can imagine?” What happened to fantastic fantasy adventure.

I keep coming back to this quote I recently (re-)read in Ron Edward’s second article on fantasy heartbreakers. I’ll reprint it here so you can see why it’s haunting me:

“I think it’s central to D&D fantasy that a character must start with a very high risk of dying and very little ability to change the world around him or her, and then increase in effectiveness, scope, and ability to sustain damage…the concept seems to be that the player must serve his or her time as a schlub, greatly risking the character’s existence, in order to enjoy the increased array and benefits of the powers, ability, and effectiveness that can only be accumulated through the reward-system. An enormous amount of the draw to play a particular game seems to be based on explicitly laying out what the character might be able to do, later, if he or she lives. I want to distinguish this paradigm very sharply from the baseline “character improves through time” found in most role-playing games. This is something much, much more specific.”

The thing that haunts me about this analysis (which seems accurate to me as well) is this:

Is this the real basis for D&D’s popularity?

This “draw,” this carrot that’s dangled in front of the players…is that what makes them come back for more? Because if it is, then ALL this discussion might very well be a waste of fucking precious time (and I’ve written this up as a 12 page, 7000 word essay). There is great potential within the Dungeons & Dragons role-playing game (pre-1989, i.e. “old school” editions)…I know because I’ve observed it, I’ve played it. The same potential doesn’t exist within New D&D…the rules are designed to expand and improve the Stage 1 (basic) exploration and those same rules become extraneous or too complex for later Stage play (even if such was supported in the text of the rules…which it f’ing well is NOT). But there’s little way to GET to this potential style of play, even using “old school” rule sets, because they are accidents of design, not purposeful, and not well supported.

And maybe I’m retarded for even thinking about it. I’m not talking about piddling simulationist play…I’m talking about facing challenge on a variety of levels (i.e. “stages”): discovering the world outside the dungeon and becoming a ‘mover & shaker’ within that world. NOT limiting game-play to the challenge of exploring a Hazard Site. NOT simply figuring out how to defeat a particularly tricky puzzle (whether that “puzzle” is a tactical challenge against a superior opponent or a trick/trap not easily negotiated). Simply exploring a Hazard Site doesn’t allow you the depth of role-playing involved with Stage 2 and Stage 3 exploration when what you explore is Your Imaginary World and Your Characters’ Place In The World.

As I said, I know there are folks who don’t agree with me. Fortunately for you, the game as written is good enough for that Basic Exploration stage of play. Personally, I’d prefer to take the game up to the Expert and Master stages. However, I’m still mulling over exactly how to do that. I'll let you know if/when I figure it out.

; )

Indie-Gaming?

I've mentioned before that long before I got back into D&D, I spent a lot of time swimming the waters of the indie-gaming scene, especially with regard to thoughtful design theory. In fact, it's the kind of thing one really can't "turn off" once you've started doing it...you just end up getting a much more narrow (dare I say, "elitist") perspective on this RPG hobby.

For example, I look at D&D through the same design lens with which I view any new game I pick up, purchase, or play. The reason I'm so hip on the B/X Dungeons & Dragons is that I find this particular edition to be an incredibly excellent game. No, it does not do some of the things indie games do, but it does everything D&D does (at least, everything I want it to do) very well. Like 9 stars out of 10 for me.

This is why, after playing it nearly non-stop for nearly a year (more?) and trying various house rules and tinkerings, my current game is almost completely "straight B/X." The only deviations from the original Red & Blue books?

- Clerics don't have to memorize spells in the morning (cast on demand)

- Thief skills (and dwarf, halfling abilities) automatically work, no roll

That's it. My "weapon variations?" Dropped. Firearms? Phased out. Magic-user studies/spell learning? Exactly as written. New classes? Well, we still have one guy playing a "scout," but for the most part he works just like any other character...I mean, it's such a basic concept you can't really distinguish him from a leather clad fighter (one that can read tracks).

Anyway, it's a great game, something I don't need to harp on (again) to my readers, I'm sure. But what about that whole indie community with which I used to spend so much time prior to (allegedly) joining the OSR?

The last few days I've been buzzing around those sites again, mainly The Forge (which has gotten considerably more streamlined in the last year...yow!). I just wanted to see what I was missing, you know? If anything.

What I found in the "Actual Play" forum (the place I used to go to learn about and read about and get excited about new indie games) is: 4th Edition D&D.

What the F*CK?

Certainly, it's not ALL 4E, but enough of it...5 posts on the first page, 10 on the 2nd, with pages and pages of discussion thread. To me, this is so...gross. I mean, it's like going to your neighborhood farmer's market and seeing a Walmart has set up a stand. If you read the "about" page of The Forge you'll find the following:

This site is dedicated to the promotion, creation, and review of independent role-playing games. What is an independent role-playing game? Our main criterion is that the game is owned by its author, or creator-owned.

Hmm...it's strange enough to see ANY discussion of D&D on the site (not that it's not a touch-stone subject for most of us who "grew up in the hobby;" but so much of the indie-theory is about alternate approaches to game design). But isn't Hasbro's latest-greatest kind of the antithesis of independent, creator-owned games? Aren't these the folks that killed (or cut the legs off) the OGL, making their product even more faceless and corporate and soulless than it already was?

I guess I've become an elitist's elitist. Man, I am such a jerk!

I can't even bring myself to engage in these on-line discussions. Ideas and questions about how to tinker with 4E and "make it better" just makes me want to ask, "why the hell even bother?" But even that is a losing discussion...I mean, why would I want to waste time - any amount of time - discussing how to "tinker" 4E on a site that purports to be devoted to the promotion and creation of indie RPGs?

I mean, what could such a discussion possibly be in aid of?

Sorry for yet another mini-rant. I guess I've just been in a bad mood today.

Back On-Line, (Near) Awards, and Reflections

So it appears my internet woes have finally been resolved as of this time yesterday. Turns out my internet provider upgraded the technology of my area without upgrading my modem, causing me to have on-going "spectral interference" for the last several months. And because the "tech support" people I've called, oh, half-a-dozen times are in f'ing India (or some Asian country overseas) they had no idea what the hell was going on and simply read me the same damn script every time I called.

Bunch o BS.

Anyway, now I've got the new modem and I can get on-line and check my email without running down to the damn library on my lunch breaks (only open Monday to Thursday) and I can stream the Bakshi/Frazetta film Fire & Ice from Netflix without wanting to throw something through my TV screen.

[by the way, if anyone was wondering why I hadn't posted anything till now, the weather's been absolutely gorgeous this weekend, and me and the fam spent most of the day down on the waterfront, feeding seagulls and browsing high-class toy stores for rubber blocks. Nice]

But right now it's back to business...catching up on forums and email and the blogs and such. Found out that my B/X Companion placed in the Indie RPG awards this year (no, I did not enter it in the Ennies, though I was tempted to do so). "Placing" isn't really the right term, as there was no 2nd place award, but I came in as 1st runner up to the winner for Best Indie Supplement of the Year with 20 points. Pretty good considering this is my first (self-)published product and I didn't do anything particularly innovative (um...compared to many indie RPG game designers that is...).

You know, I used to spend a LOT of time over at The Forge and swimming in indie waters the same way I now sail through the OSR blog-o-sphere. I enjoy playing other games, especially the weird and intimate or desperate or innovative or straight-up bizarre...but I don't get the chance to do so as much.

And that's fine. I mean, my current game group is a bunch of guys who work in the computer industry and are returning to Old School tabletop gaming for the first time in years (or ever, for some). This process of starting a game, theorizing, and testing has allowed me to do some serious deconstruction of the D&D game, and I've just gotten a greater and greater appreciation for it over time (as well as gotten a lot of good insight into game design).

One thing I've noticed...just about all the "house rules" I've implemented have been discarded by this point. They just haven't been necessary at all to the play of the game and the game works better without 'em. Other than the new classes I've been play-testing, there are only two house rules that continue to stick around:

- Clerics don't need to "memorize" spells at the beginning of the day

- Thief skills automatically succeed

Oh, yeah...we're also continuing to use the "two-handed weapons strike last and do D8 damage" (as opposed to all other weapons, which do D6), but since no one is using a two-handed weapon, it's kind of a moot rule.

I'll have a chance to write more about B/X game play in the coming days, as I fully expect to be drawing comparisons between it and the game play of DCC (have to go make some characters!). But it's just something on which I've been reflecting lately.

All right...that's enough blogging for now. Have to go check some forums!

: )

Ranger Love

I've had time to reconsider my earlier thoughts on the ranger and while I gave plenty of reason for not including one in a B/X game (or any other edition, for that matter!), I gave no justification at all for putting one into a D&D campaign. And just because I say that A, B, and C are reasons for leaving it on the cutting room floor, does NOT mean there aren't reasons X, Y, and Z for including it in one's game.

Yes, there is some ranger love about to happen here.

Let me reiterate my earlier points, just so they're fresh in everyone's minds:

• the ranger class as presented have no literary precedent as an archetype in fantasy/adventure writing (don't argue with me on that, folks...one unique character does NOT make an archetype)
• the ranger usurps the fighter's position in a party by doing everything the fighter does PLUS possessing extra goodies (and don't give me that weapon specialization "add-on" in the UA as a lame attempt at "balance;" that's closing the barn door after the horse is in the next county).
• adding "kewl (if conditional) powers" needlessly complicates an elegant adventure game for the sake of some munchkin-twink's desire for an uber-character
• I hate alignment restrictions in class for many reasons, but forcing players to play "good guys" gets away from the heart of the game (scurrilous rogues of a sword & sorcery tradition plundering dungeons)

Okay, got all that? Great. So here's where rangers come in DAMN HANDY as a playable character class:

1. When you have a very small number of players in your campaign...say 1-3 plus a DM.
2. When you want to emphasize alignment by making strong character choices and situations, drifting towards narratavist play that addresses a premise.
3. When both of the above apply.

When the size of your gaming table is limited, it really behooves no one to play straight basic classes...say, a fighter and a magic-user or a cleric and a thief. Not everyone has the wonderful blessing of a dozen hearty souls ready to die in their DM's dungeon...in the past, I've played campaigns where only two or three players were available, and it was these games where a multi-role capable characters really come in handy.

For example, a fighter and a magic-user seem like a great one-two punch...until one (or both) of them need healing. A cleric and a fighter combine to form a pretty stout duo...but one that clinkety-clanks their way into ambush after ambush (at least with unforgiving DMs like myself). Throwing a ranger into the mix gives a two- (or three- or even four-) person party a wide range of skills and abilities to draw upon withOUT forcing players to handle multiple PCs.

And that is (to me) much more desirable than forcing players to go "short-changed." Because we ARE talking about a role-playing game here, and fun as it is to simply treat it like a giant "board/war game of imagination" it is most rewarding when players DO have the chance to role-play, matching their own desires with character action, identifying with their character and experiencing the imaginary world through the vehicle of the character.

That's a lot harder to do when your attention is split between two or three characters.

Forcing a small party to play short-staffed (for the sake of role-playing and a purist approach to game play) can mean condemning even skilled players to a lot of character death and thus lack of progress/advancement. And "no advancement" means confining your campaign to the lowest levels of play indefinitely...which will eventually get tiresome.

Trust me on that.

; )

SO...allowing a player to run a character with access to some bushwhacking skills (surprise, tracking) some spells, some extra damage bonuses...all these things will do well to help fill up and round out the small party of PCs...and at the same time doesn't infringe on the spell-caster or thief's niche.

[assassins, monks, and acrobats can provide the same extra "punch" over a normal thief and paladins a combo fighter-cleric, by the way...again, useful in small parties]

So what if there's no literary tradition of a "ranger archetype?" I mean, there's a ranger archetype now...you can see it in Paul Kidd's stupidly named character, Justicar, or the even stupider named Drow ranger, Drizzle (or whatever the hell his name is). Of course, there was also Weiss and Hickman's character Riverwind, and I'm sure Terry Brooks threw in a ranger-ish character for one of those damn Shanarra books (I could never stomach my way past the first one). AD&D has created a literary archetype with their ranger class...so there. Now it's out there: if you want to read "D&D-esque" fantasy, you may find yourself stumbling across this class.

As for the other reason to include rangers...i.e. drifting a campaign into a narrativist exploration of premise by introducing ethical challenges to players forced to be "good" (or else lose all those cool powers)...well, that's more a theoretical question, as even MY somewhat "drifted" campaigns of my youth never posed serious moral quandaries. But you could do it...and alignment-restricted classes (like the paladin, ranger, and druid) would be the showcase classes for this type of game.

BUT the first reason (rounding out the small party) is an immensely PRACTICAL, not just theoretical, justification for including the ranger in a party...and paladins and the 1st edition bard and characters with psionics...it provides that extra oomph needed to help small parties survive and progress, developing into characters that live and breath in our minds and that can provide us with a window into an imaginary world.

So for THAT reason, it's nice to have some "uber-class" options.

I'm just glad I have enough players at my current gaming table that I have not the slightest guilt for banning rangers.

Cheers!

: )

Damn...Procrastination is a Bitch...

Back in August (on the 19th to be exact), I posted that I was starting a couple new projects, including a B/X reinterpretation of the old Bard Games' The Compleat Adventurer. Along with the Land of Ash campaign setting for B/X, I figured this would be a relatively simple writing project, seeing as how most of it would collecting various essays, random charts, and "new" B/X class write-ups (my "personal favorites" as commentator DHBoggs astutely noted) that have already been posted to the blog over the last year or so.

And it STILL looks like it would be a simple writing project (especially when I'm figuring it will only come in at 40 pages or so)...I just haven't gotten around to doing it.

Fact of the matter is, "real life" has been plenty crazy the last four months, and free time for writing has been astoundingly limited, often relegated to an even lower priority due to "research" considerations.

What the hell is "research?" Oh, you know...scouring used bookstores for old novels (and reading them), comic book stores for inspiring graphic novels, game shops for various games to review their design aspects, and re-watching films I've already seen a dozen times...not to mention combing blogs, web forums, and such for additional ideas.

The last two days for example, I spent quite a bit of time reviewing the old Forge articles on Narrativism and Simulationism, specifically with regard to game design principles (not so much for creative agenda stuff). Ugh...slow going to say the least; even having read the Forge essays multiple times in the past, it can be hard to wrap one's mind around specific semantics if you haven't been involved in the conversation for awhile (for example, if you've been playing and blogging about old school D&D for the last year and a half).

But it's good to read this stuff again...already it makes me reconsider a lot of the basic design choices I had for my space opera game. For example, how much do I want it to be a game of rip-roaring adventure (a la Flash Gordon or the original Star Wars) and how much do I want it to be able to address Star Wars-esque moral premises like

- Is the life of one's friends worth more than the cause for which those friends fight? (The Empire Strikes Back)

- Does love and marriage override one's loyalty to a political cause? (Revenge of the Sith)

And here's the thing: I can see multiple ways to design a space opera game (either as a rip-roarer or a premise-addresser), but trying to design a game that does both is a sure way to invite design incoherence. Why half-ass it two ways when you can go whole hog towards one?

And then, while I'm having that silly, internal debate (does anyone care besides you, JB?) the real bitch of procrastination rears its ugly head...namely, I'm being out-paced by folks with similar projects that are more focused than myself.

For example, my "simple B/X supplement" project seems to have been preempted somewhat by Joseph's (of Greyhawk Grognard) Adventures Dark & Deep project. Of course, Joseph's is a LOT more ambitious than my proposed stunt...four volumes, a re-imagined Gygax-influenced AD&D 2E...but he is including a lot of the same TCA/TCSC classes that were to be the core of my book. Similar to Goblinoid Games' Advanced Edition Companion (published shortly before my B/X Companion)...it just sometimes feels like I'm "diluting the gene pool" so to speak. Everyone has their own way of playing BX/LL and who am I to stick my nose in others' cash flow?

But aside from that (as I said, GG's project and mine are exceptionally dissimilar in scope), I see JM over at Grognardia is starting to get the mental wheels turning on the idea of a class-based space opera RPG. Again, I realize this probably sounds like me whining (um...because I am?) but I'm certainly not looking to compete with anyone, especially someone with substantially wider experience and "publishing chops" than Yours Truly.

[by the way, funny how minds think alike...I came up with a fairly similar archetypal list of space opera classes, as well as the same number, though I DID leave out the thief-type "rogue/scoundrel" on JM's list...that's just a throwback to WotC's take on West End Game's pastiche interpretation of Han Solo, one that I disagree with in general]

I suppose all I can really do is stop sharpening my axe and start whittling on the tree. Not that I haven't been... I've got 20 pages written in multiple chapters, and substantial notes for the other sections. Since I don't intend this to be more than 64 pages in length, I'm close to a third of the way there.

Ugh...then comes the artwork part. Oh, boy.

I suppose in the end I have the exact same decision to make as when I was in the middle of finishing the B/X Companion and realized Barrataria's reimagined Companion had already been published: either suck it up and finish what I'd started, or pack it up and find a different project. I decided to press on and am proud of the end result.

Huh...when I consider my prior decision, I guess I already know what I'm gonna' do.

; )

Regarding “Story Now”

A few people have commented (and emailed me) that they have enjoyed my “session reports” and adventure write-ups, especially the recent White Plume Mountain game at the Baranof. My players have sometimes noted that the telling of the story is more interesting than the actual playing, as some of the challenges (like the ziggurat and the mud cave) have required a fairly boring amount of brain-storming on the parts of the players developing a strategy for circumvention.

Personally, I don’t see any sort of hypocrisy or “false advertising” …hell, any kind of disconnect at all!...between the actual playing and the later “story telling.” That’s how role-playing games are.

NOT that I feel RPGs are a vehicle for “telling stories.” I don’t really agree with this sentiment (or at least, I don’t support the idea that story telling is the main or prime objective of playing an RPG). Stories CAN come out of imaginary play, but the point of play is…let’s face it…PLAY. Play in an imaginary world, imagining yourself as a grim wizard or stalwart cleric of brawny fighter…or for that matter, pretending you’re a Jedi Knight or star-sailing smuggler.

Certainly, some players (including myself) have at least some nominal story-telling objective; a “narratavist creative agenda” to use the jargon of the Forge, and role-playing games can be designed with this objective in mind. But D&D is NOT a game that facilitates addressing a premise in play…at least not without a LOT of house rules and some fairly extreme tweaks.

But that doesn’t mean you don’t get something of a story from playing. No, it’s not Tolstoy; hell, it’s not even Howard usually (though it might be Lovecraft). The story you get is the same kind you bring back from a camping trip in the Pacific Northwest.

I’ll explain what I mean by that.

When I was a kid, I was both a Cub Scout and a Boy Scout (I was also a Catholic altar boy…and somehow I was never molested in all the years of my youth…go figure). As a Scout with an active/involved father, we went on a lot of Scout-sponsored camping trips. This would generally involve driving out into the middle of the wilds, hiking as a troop even farther into the wilds, setting up tents, and then toughing it out through icy, pouring rain for two or three days before hiking out again. Call me a sissy, “city boy,” but camping in the Northwest sucks. It is cold, it is wet, and it is miserable. Miserable! We’d have to sing these damn songs and try to find as much humor as we could while freezing our joints off and getting muddy as hell. I suppose it was designed to “build character,” but what it really did was give me an appreciation for my soft city life…kind of like being forced to eat Top Ramen for a couple years gives you an appreciation for having a job that puts real food on your table.

Anyway, while we certainly had some laughs (usually at the expense of our fellow scouts’ equal or worse suffering), I don’t think any of us would have said we had a “good time.” I know I would never have claimed that…and I enjoyed luke-warm beef stew cooked on a tiny propane stove. Even after we got home, we would not have claimed to have enjoyed ourselves…BUT, we always had a helluva’ good time telling the stories of our suffering!

Complaining and talking about how awful an experience was can be a lot of fun…much more so than the experience itself. What’s more, it can be downright entertaining to others when described with the proper attitude and (occasional) poetic exaggeration.

; )

I hope folks don’t take this to mean that a boring day at the gaming table should be considered entertainment because you can bitch about it later…that’s not the point. The point is, the kind of stories that get told are “war stories” about what happened in the game: “We went into White Plume Mountain, and Joe and Bob died, but at least we got this big pile of treasure, and look at this nasty scar from the giant crab, man, after we finished him off we were dipping his remains in butter…”

Regarding, “the telling being better than the playing:” that’s really not how I see it. Actual play takes time away from “what’s going on” in-game for referencing rules, kibitzing, and out-o-character strategizing. That’s the nature of the beast…and it happens in Story Now games as well (rules referencing, kibitzing, and strategizing or negotiating the story). The difference between D&D and a Story Now game is not that one tells stories and the other doesn’t. The difference is that one (D&D) tells pulpy, weird, serial adventure stories and the other (Story Now) has the ability (or potential) to tell more “meaningful” or “emotionally impactful” stories.

Not that they do, necessarily. InSpecters, for instance, has fantastic potential at facilitating the narrativist creative agenda (due to its shared narration and wide-open interpretation of dice rolls). In practice, any stories told are more loopy than anything that occurred in White Plume Mountain. That’s what it inspires: silliness. And it’s no more or less interesting than the stories that get told about a particular “dungeon delve.”

Now as I said, I don’t think “collaborative story telling” is the prime reason to play RPGs (even though it IS an objective of play for certain RPGs). Likewise (as I said), I personally have an interest in some story coming out of play…even if that story is simply a hair-raising tale of adventure and death. In fact, I find the serial adventure (i.e. the “long-term campaign”) to be the MOST rewarding because it gives you a chance to “fall in love with the characters” just like your favorite serial TV show or comic book or novel or movie trilogy.

[and I think that this love of the “on-going character” is as much the reason people want to play D&D as the ability to “pretend to be an elf or barbarian or spell-slinging sorcerer”]

Because of this (my own creative agenda), I have fairly specific design criteria for role-playing games. Not “rules light” necessarily, but “rules abstract.” And certainly NOT “rules heavy” (sorry Pathfinder/D20…you go too far in the wrong direction for my taste). B/X is just about perfect, aside from minor gripes (like the excessive treasure/XP thing). It gives the rules needed to set parameters of play (what is and is not possible and/or appropriate), but leaves a LOT to the imagination, giving ample space for creativity.

If my write-ups of White Plume Mountain were fun/interesting, it’s because the GAME was fun/interesting…at least from my perspective. No, no, we weren’t creating any chest-beating drama (that’s a different RPG, folks) but we were having a rip-roaring adventure with minimum fuss.

For a Thursday night social event over beer, that’s most of what I’m looking for anyway.
: )

B1 Aftermath: The De-Brief

[continued from here]

Despite killing off my brother's two characters in three weeks, and wiping out almost his entire cast, he was still willing to go back down into the dungeon and immediately rolled up a new character. However, we ended play for the evening, and I was willing to hold him off on going back to Castle Q. I wanted to move onto a new adventure, having sprung most of the "surprises" from B1 (I forgot, the final battle included a couple mummies as well...taken care of quickly by the party).

In de-briefing (i.e. on the way back from the bar), AB had no unkind words for the hand he'd been dealt. Talking to him again tonight, he still didn't. "It didn't stop me from playing the next day, did it? We're still playing again on Thursday, ja?" But this has often been my experience when DMing games...characters die but the players want to come back for more. Really. Even my poor wife, the FIRST time she played (not the Keep on the Borderlands adventure I described awhile back...a BECMI adventure in Threshold from either Mentzer Basic or Expert, played a few years back)...she rolled up three characters and had each of them killed in fairly quick succession, but kept wanting to play. Her main reason for not wanting to play RPGs has to do with her "becoming to attached to the characters."

Now contrast this with our experiments with Mordheim...possibly my favorite game ever published by Games Workshop. We played one match, and I destroyed her...and she never wanted to play again. For whatever reason there is a difference between playing someone one-on-one and acting as an "impartial referee." Even though I'm not gloating or yelling "In your face!" at my wife over a wargaming table...it's hard to watch one person's dice rolls remove individual playing pieces from a game board. A DM though...he (or she) is simply interpreting dice rolls and describing "what happens." The DM's not really trying to kill you off, is he?

Well...

Anyway, while I've had people crumple up character sheets at the table (which always annoys me...what if the character gets brought back to life with a spell?), I can't recall anyone who let the death of their character ruin the play of the game. Which is why it has always been weird to me that so many game groups make such an effort to keep player characters alive, fudging dice rolls and whatnot.

Not that I don't understand it...even my Old School buddy Kris has said, "Dying is no fun." BUT the Doctor also notes that "Dying is part of the game." You take character death off the table and the challenges...and the triumphs!...mean a lot less to the players.

Well, anyway, back to the debriefing of Thursday's game: though AB had no issue regarding his character's death, that's NOT to say he didn't have some complaints about the game...specifically, he felt there wasn't ENOUGH back-story.

The whole confrontation with Z and R had given him a momentary epiphany regarding the nature of Dungeons & Dragons in general. "What the hell ARE we doing here?" he asked. "Basically, we're not doing anything more than knocking over these guys' house!" Home invasion. Burglars. Nothing lofty or "heroic" regarding their actions at all.

Faced with the realization didn't make him want to quit the game, nor did it detract from the fun...after all, all his characters to date have been Neutral in alignment. He just hadn't really thought of the whole r'aison d'etre for being there in the first place. Yes, the adventurers were a group of members with varied skills seeking treasure, willing to risk their lives in dangerous situations...and looting some higher level adventurers' stronghold was a certainly part of their M.O.

However, it left him curiously un-satisfied at the end.

My brother wanted there to be more reason for his mission. More "backstory" is the term he used. "I got more backstory from the random rolls for how the characters knew each other! What we needed was more of THAT." He actually suggested I create random tables/charts for why they were in the dungeon in the first place.

Huh?

We were playing an adventure module...a modified one, but still a module. It presents a scenario...a reason for being there. A background is presented, and your characters are supposed to be motivated to be there. Treasure. Danger. The whole nine yards, ya' know?

It didn't seem enough to him.

On pondering, I guess it wouldn't have been enough for me either.

I'm going to consider the question more for our upcoming Thursday night game and think about what (if anything) I can do about it. Right now, I can only look at it in terms of myself and my feelings.

It's the same old chestnut, chewed over at the Forge multiple times, relating to the ability of story magically emerging in-play. For some people...maybe those over the age of 13 (15 or so for males) there's an interest in their RPG being about something. An idea that more is at stake here than simple house-breaking and tomb-robbing. And there's this great hope that when we are done with a play session, we can "look back on what we've wrought" and see some sort of existing coherent narrative tapestry...a "story" that has been created by the events of the game play.

It's tough to do this with RPGs not expressly built to facilitate this agenda...like Dungeons & Dragons. And yet, I'm not really ready to junk D&D in favor of an indie-fantasy RPG that addresses story directly...I prefer the abstract systems of B/X D&D as written for a fast-paced, exciting game that provides all the means one needs to create a fantasy world.

Maybe a random motivation or "kicker" chart IS needed. Certainly both the Hats and the Relationship tables have been highly successful so far.