Incentivizing

So many times these days, my blog posts feel like deja vu: that I am simply harping on the same issues, or trying to find different tacks to explain the same concepts that I've already written about ad nauseum. Of course, sometimes it's probably appropriate and useful to explain hard-to-grasp concepts multiple times in different, variant fashions.  

Heck, The Bible uses four Gospels to get the same point across, right?

ANYway, it probably doesn't help I pen my thoughts on discord channels, forums, and other folks' blog comments...sometimes I forget what I've written here versus what I've scribbled elsewhere. I'm not quite the internet rash I was ten years ago, but I'm still spread around a bit.

Here's a recent one from the CAG ("Classic Adventure Gaming") discord: a guy (let's call him "Joe") penned this the other day:

I'm, of course, breaking one of the great taboos by giving my 1E AD&D players XP just for showing up and making an effort, but after 30 sessions they still don't seem to grasp that the motherload is when they engage in combat and get loot. A session of exploration typically nets them 500XP, but the week they beat up the tomb guardian and nabbed its goodies, they must have come out at nearly 1500. After they cleared the tomb I dropped HEAY hints that there was more to explore in the immediate area, but they scurried back to base without so much as a backward glance. Leaving all that sweet, sweet gold (and XP) behind.

To which I replied (in part):

...I totally understand the frustration of slow advancement, but you don't want to train players that they're going to be rewarded for "showing up." 

...if (as I infer) you're running a long-form campaign, don't the PCs run out of money due to their lack of treasure acquisition? Are they constantly starving, running out of resources, etc.? How do they pay for mounts, henchfolk, mercs, arrows, expenses, etc.? Are they not incentivized to pull themselves out of poverty?

Because, you know, treasure...the acquisition of wealth..should be THE incentive in any AD&D game. Here was Joe's response:

Money not been an issue so far. They scraped by in the first adventure, then as a reward for resolving the situation the Paladin's PC was asked to continue to follow the clues they had uncovered and given a bag of gold by his Church superiors to buy him and his associates mounts and enough food to get to the next site. As they get into so little combat the attrition on their gear is minimal and I allowed the Ranger to craft more arrows in downtime. TBH, as only one of them had played AD&D before I wanted to keep the bean counting to a manageable level in case it put them off. I am tracking time (loosely, so I know where we are on the campaign calendar and generally have been reinforcing that if they want to fine-tooth-comb any place then any spells will have worn off by the time they are finished) but no training costs, their only henchman willingly joined them because they'd saved and taken care of the rest of his gang, and I also assume that when travelling across country (which I'm not doing as a hexcrawl) then the Ranger and Druid between them can keep them in game, roots, berries and water. Handwaving a few other things, but I am enforcing consumables for the wizard, and the cost of ink to write new spells (as well as the time it takes so they're having to make decisions about how long they can afford to sit around while he does it).

*sigh*

SO...this post is not intended to 'throw Joe under the bus' (for the record,  I feel I tried to give some helpful, compassionate advice on the discord channel), but I want to use this post to illustrate some bad DMing habits, and how they wreck your game.  Joe's not the only DM out there who has gone all loosey-goosey when running his/her campaign, worrying that "bean counting" is going to ruin the fun and enjoyment of the game. It's a common occurrence. And it ends up causing all sorts of issues as the DM has to patch one leak and then another and then another until the campaign is finally sunk.

Here's "absolute truth #1:" AD&D runs on treasure. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. Treasure acquisition drives the game; it is the objective goal that focuses the players, encourages cooperation, rewards ingenuity, and makes for exciting game play. It is the main road to advancement, which results in greater character effectiveness, which opens more content for exploration. It is objective and concrete: a solid, non-arbitrary, non-subjective goal. It starts and spurs action.

Your players should ALWAYS be interested in, and looking for, treasure.

If they're not, then there is something wrong with your campaign setting, pal. There is a distinct lack of attention being paid to the world building. Different players have different amounts of ambition; different players have different amounts of caution. Relative ambition and relative caution are the two "dials" that determine how fast advancement occurs...the drive to pursue treasure. But the desire for treasure should be a constant imperative of AD&D game play. If it's NOT, then some examination is probably necessary.

Read Joe's response again, and let's take this point by point:

• Paladins aren't getting gold from their Church; they are GIVING gold to their Church. The tenets of the paladin class are pretty clear: they are required to donate the bulk of their wealth to charitable institutions. These characters are MONEY-MAKERS for their religion; certainly, the Church will send them on missions, but with the expectation that they will be returning with vast amounts of loot to fill the clergy's coffers. Hell, they should be positively TASKED with this expectation.
• Crafting arrows (or any kind of weapon or armor) is not the purview of a character class; unless a character possesses a secondary skill of bowyer/fletcher the making of arrows should be far more mysterious than the using of said arrows. And making arrows isn't as simple as whittling some tree branches...arrows suitable for penetrating armor (whether that of orcs or bandits or dragonhide) are going to need metal tipped heads, specially forged. And where is the ranger getting feathers for fletching? And are they taking the time to steam and straighten and lacquer the shafts? Have they paid for the equipment they need to craft the arrows? Unlikely, since they don't have the money to purchase a quiver themselves.
• I don't do "training costs" myself, but I DO charge monthly character expenses (DMG p.25) to take into account (in an abstract fashion) all those other sundry costs that come from BEING A LIVE FUNCTIONING PERSON. And henchfolk need those 'cost of living' expenses met, too! Sure, the player characters can choose to be unbathed, unshaved, dressed in filthy, patched rags, and sleep in the dirt outside of town...but after a month or two of that, even the most grateful "found" henchperson is going to walk away. Who wants to live like that? After braving hardship and danger, risking life and limb, you can't even get a bath or a change of clothes? Are you kidding me? Those henchmen are going to walk!
• Leaving aside how difficult "foraging" enough food for a half dozen people might be, leaving aside how time intensive hunting can be (i.e. how many days it might take to even locate game), just how much energy is a group of adventurers going to need for hiking through the wilderness and battling monsters? After a couple weeks of subsisting on "roots and berries" are they going to be in any condition to fight?  ALSO, working animals (horses, mules, etc.) do not subsist on "game, roots, and berries." Nor do they simply "graze." They need animal feed...and lots of it!...especially if they are carrying burdens or riders. Any steeds are going to die of starvation and overwork if chained to an impoverished adventuring party.

Players these days seem not to grasp the logistics of "adventure" these days. It's not their fault, of course: they've been weened on really sub-par fantasy literature, video games, and films that focus on spectacle over substance. Sign of the times. I was somewhat the same as a youth, though at least I'd done SOME camping as a Boy Scout, and could extrapolate a bit. But reading good adventure fiction also helps immensely. I've been doing some of that lately...checking out old Tarzan novels, H. Rider Haggard, Harold Lamb, etc. Books that deal with provisioning, overland travel, and exploration. The COST of expeditions in these books make it clear to the undertakers that they must have success in their ventures (i.e. they must reap some sort of monetary/financial reward). It is an absolute imperative...otherwise, they might as well not bother trying to get back to civilization.

This is The Way of adventure gaming: adventure gaming of the sort AD&D provides can sustain long-term, engaging play when run in this fashion. "Oh, how boring. Where's the story?" cry some. Look: I enjoy a good escapist novel or popcorn film as much as anyone...but the thing about such stories is 1) they tell the story, and then 2) they're done. Move on to the next distraction. Adventure gaming provides long-term, sustained entertainment...it doesn't end. There's no "beginning, middle, climax" of a story. We are playing (imaginary) people's LIVES. We are creating/exploring a fantastical (imaginary) WORLD. It is the highest form of imaginary gameplay...why would you want to shrink it to a simple "story?"

So you need costs. Because you need incentives. Because that is the gameplay loop that gets you to adventure gaming. The fewer the costs, the less incentive. And, thus, the less adventure.

My players are currently running through my rewrite of I3. It's not I3...it has different maps, different encounters, different background. It's actually pretty much nothing like I3, except that it features a pyramid in a desert wasteland. Oh, and there's an exterior temple with some fanatics. Yeah, that's about where the similarities end (except that there will be two additional sections of "desert wasteland," featuring a shifty "nomad town" and a "lost wizard tomb" a la I4 and I5). 

Why are the players heading out into the rugged wasteland that is southern Idaho? Because they've heard of this pyramid that might have left over loot in it. This is pretty crazy for 1st level characters (the adventure is geared to levels 3rd - 5th) but they are a determined, ambitious (crazy) bunch. Still, they had to use all their coin just to buy a mule and provisions for a three day journey from the last civilized outpost (Rattlesnake Station), choosing the roughest, most direct route to their destination to save on expenses. They have to succeed in finding treasure...failure is no longer an option. They have pushed all their chips into the pile: they'll either come away with fabulous wealth, or they'll be rolling up six new PCs. 

When you run a campaign that has adequate costs, "hooking" players into action becomes very, very easy. Treasure becomes the primary motivator, the number one incentive, and all the DM must do is dangle the idea of a payday in front of the players. They'll travel to ancient and hostile cities, deliver freight by ship through pirate & monster infested waters, brave scorching deserts, frozen tundras, primeval forests filled with inhuman faery creatures. No one in their right mind goes into some fortified tomb riddled with slimes, undead, and death traps...unless there's the opportunity for a huge score. But that huge score is only enticing if and when the players have needs. 

You, DM, must provide those needs.

I don't run my game in a strict 1:1 time fashion, except between adventures (i.e. outside the dungeon). I charge expenses every game month that passes, even if the PCs are "out on safari" (in the wilderness, in the dungeon) 20 days out of the month..it is presumed, they'll have even more costs, once they finally reach the safety of town/civilization. Those expenses eat wealth at a high rate, even without training costs. If my players' 6th level parties go 4 months between adventures (because we can't get together, or because they're focusing on other characters), they'll each need to hand over 2,400 g.p. when we pull those characters out again, plus the costs for their henchfolk. That could easily add up to a bill of more than 10K. Even if they invest some of their loot in money-making ventures (a wise choice), I'm going to charge their liquid assets...and with a long enough period of inactivity, they may be left with nothing more than the income from their dry goods store (or whatever). And if that is how they want to live out their (imaginary) lives perhaps it's time to simply retire the character from play.  

Old TSR modules are littered with retired adventures running taverns and inns and shops. 

AD&D runs on treasure. It is the only incentive you really need, although players (when engaged with a campaign) always seem to find other motivations for action (revenge and charity are the two I most often see). But treasure should ALWAYS be there, as an incentive...for engagement, for action. And it always will be there...so long as you, DM provide them with reasons to need the money.

; )

YOU Are The Story

Jeez Louise...so many topics to get to (none of which are OGL-related, thank goodness!) and so little time. I'm trying to write a damn blog post about an orc (not just any old orc, but a SPECIFIC orc), and then THIS comes up. Sheesh.

But it's (kind of) important. 

So, Adam (Barking Alien, for those in the know) posted a comment on my last post (Boring Old D&D) saying:

"It's posts like this that confuse me in regards to what it is you enjoy and why you enjoy it. You don't go in for the Story, Narrative driven games but 'it's not just about killing monster and taking stuff'. How does that work? 

"How do you have no story but it's not just a video game with paper and dice?"

For the record, this is (perhaps) the thousandth time BA and I have danced this little dance. He is very much of the (now old) New School of RPG game play...the kind that came out of Dragonlance and 2E-era D&D, the kind that in the '90s led to White Wolf games like Vampire and all its many imitators. Games that wanted to explore story and genre until birthing (and being killed by) the rise of the indie, Story Now (or Narrativist-oriented) games. For those of us who've been around since 1981 (and followed the evolution of the hobby), its pretty easy to recognize the foibles of 5E D&D as the second coming (and rebranding/marketing) of 2E AD&D. 

[that's probably a whole 'nother post. What'd I say? Too many topics these days. However, here's a hint: WotC/Hasbro's quest to "more monetize" the D&D brand has direct parallels with post-1985 TSR]

ANYway. Adam is no 'spring chicken.' He's been playing RPGs nearly as long (or perhaps longer) than I have. He came in with Basic...Holmes, if I remember correctly...long before Dragonlance. Certainly long before 2E. One might jump to the question, "Hey, why isn't this guy on the same page as JB? He's an old geezer...doesn't he have the same sensibilities?" Just remember: the story-centric "role playing" that followed Wargamers Gygax/Arneson initial creation was created by folks OLDER than us. The Hickmans are OLDER than me...they were married adults in their 20s when they were writing epic Dragonlance modules.  This is not an issue of age, generation, or "wargamer background."

[in case anyone's wondering, I don't have a wargaming background]

The way I see it, the problem here is one of confusion and misunderstanding. There is a (LARGE) segment of the hobby that sees RPGs as vehicles for "telling stories." That "telling stories" is the OBJECTIVE of play. "This game [insert name] allows you and your friends to tell stories, just like [insert favorite book, film, or genre one wishes to emulate]."

Before going any further, in this post you need to BREAK that presumption. Even if the game instructions SAY that's the objective of play, you need to nip that right in the bud because there's a good chance that A) the game writer had a poor understanding of what was going on, AND/OR B) was simply emulating prior games description of 'what an RPG is' when they wrote it.

BREAK THAT PRESUMPTION. DO NOT PRESUME THE GAME IS DESIGNED TO TELL STORIES.

Okay. Are we clear? Blank slate everyone? Now we can advance.

There ARE games on the market that are specifically designed to tell stories. Once Upon A Time is a good example. Story Cubes are another. The Adventures of Baron Munchausen is yet another and also includes some elements of 'role-playing' in it. 

There are ALSO many RPGs (and pseudo-RPGs...like Fiasco) that have been published over the years that have the objective of telling stories, using recognizable RPG elements, that can somewhat succeed presuming everyone is on board with genre emulation. The Dying Earth RPG. My Life With Master. New Fire: Temikamatl. OrkWorld (maybe). Dust Devils. Prince Valiant. Maybe Amber Diceless. Christian Aldridge's Maelstrom (i.e. Story Engine) The degree to which the telling stories is supported by the game's mechanics (rules/systems) varies between games, but they are GENERALLY supportive of creating stories...in their particular genre...and they don't do much else. 

[there are other examples...really, too many to list]

Then there are...the other games. Games that are based on D&D concepts, mechanics, and play dynamics. "Role-playing games" they are called...games run and moderated by a game master while the other participants play the role of a single character. Games with explicitly stated (or else assumed) objectives of "telling a story." Of creating a narrative with a point to it. Because OTHERWISE the act of play is deemed to have no point or reason to play. 

Or, to use Adam's words, "How do you have no story but it's not just a video game with dice?"

This is coming at the game from the wrong angle. It is starting with the presumption that playing the game must be about something (it is), about something meaningful (it is), like creating a narrative with a plot a climax and heroic...or at least worthy...protagonists (it is not).  

Dungeons & Dragons was...originally...never about creating stories in the way an actual story telling game is designed. That doesn't mean stories didn't result from the antics of the players, stories that might emulate much of the genre books that inspired D&D (i.e. the infamous Appendix N). But any story creation was the by-product of play, not the point of play. The point of playing Dungeons & Dragons was playing Dungeons & Dragons.  And any textual statements to the contrary should be chalked up as either:

1. a failure to understand/grasp the appeal of a very new, very unusual game by the original authors, AND/OR
2. blatant lies and/or terrible attempts at marketing a game that was poorly understood even by its own publishers.

Later RPGs tried to take the "magic" of D&D into their own genres, settings, with tweaks to the system (as TSR did with Top Secret, Boot Hill, Gamma World, Star Frontiers, etc.). But for a number of reasons (which I might get to in a later post) these were LESS successful...and not just because people prefer elves and swords and magic. 

[like I said...needs its own post]

But SOME folks really still wanted elves and swords and magic but with something MORE. For the Hickmans, they had very specific design goals: they wanted objectives that weren't limited to pillaging and looting, they wanted an "intriguing story" that was "intricately woven into play itself," and they wanted scenarios that could be finished in an evening's play. When the Hickmans were hired by TSR, they incorporated these design priorities into their adventures and when those adventures were successful, the design priorities of the (for profit) company shifted to match.

And all the imitators of D&D followed suit.

Again, realize that creating a story was NEVER the "point of play" for the D&D game. The systems (i.e. rules) it has are there to facilitate playing D&D, not to facilitate "telling stories." People like playing D&D (it's why the game is so successful...and will be explained in that later post), just like people enjoy playing baseball or soccer despite there being no real "point" to the game. The point of play is the play of the game. You are not creating stories...you ARE the story. 

Some of the biggest name designers in the story-oriented RPG industry never understood this. Here's Mark Rein-Hagen, designer of Vampire: The Masquerade:

"I have always been in love with roleplaying. Slap-happy mad over it. Ever since that first Sunday afternoon when my father and I sat down with the church intern and played Dungeons & Dragons, it has been my passion....

"In short order we'd created our characters and begun our adventure. I rolled up a Dwarf and my father made a Cleric...we were prepared to encounter all manner of fell beasts and sinister mysteries, but not to be caught up by it the way we were. The adventure was called In Search of the Unknown. How apropos that title was I was not to realize until much later.

"After a few hours of play we found ourselves hopelessly lost due to a magical portal...(description of adventure follows)...I was so excited that I couldn't sit still whenever the gamemaster rolled the dice...and when we finally got out of the dungeon with our treasure and our lives intact, I raced around the house screaming with relief and exaltation.

"It was wonderful. It was exhausting. It was miles beyond any other experience I've ever had.

"In that afternoon I was transformed, elevated to a new plane. I had a profound, almost spiritual experience. My entire goal in roleplaying has been to once again visit that mystical garden in which I so enjoyed myself, and discover a means by which I might remain there...it is the sort of thing that changes a life.

"But the trouble is, it didn't happen every time I played. In fact, it didn't happen for a very long time...(long description of seven years of gaming, going from dungeon crawling to wilderness crawling to PVP to min-maximing munchkinism)...sure we had fun, but it wasn't exhilarating, it wasn't transforming, and it wasn't what I really wanted....

"Eventually, it grew altogether too wearisome, and I began to roleplay less and less. Roleplaying became a hollow experience, a sad reenactment of the rites of youth. 

"Then it suddenly happened again, while playing Runequest and exploring the ruins of Parvis. An experience just as intense and transforming as the first. All of a sudden I realized what I had been missing, and I was horrified. A skilled and intense gamemaster had brought back the magic.

"These two experiences are what, for me at least, define what roleplaying is about. Is is what attracts me, and continues to compel me."

[all excerpt taken from The Players Guide for V:TM, essay: "A Once Forgotten Dream," copyright 1991]

That's not the end of Rein-Hagen's essay, as he goes on to explain his thoughts about how to create that exciting, transformative experience in your own games. He arrives at the wrong (practical) conclusion despite having the right answers. He gives four simple points to follow, none of which require one to play a "deeply personal," "intense," "story focused game" like Vampire: The Masquerade:

1. Make you mind as open and receptive as you possibly can
2. Believe in the world and scenario created by the game master
3. Identify with your character (the character is your avatar for interacting with the world)
4. Exercise (grow/develop) your imagination

Of course, all that is just player-facing advice (this is the advice section in the PLAYERS Guide, after all). The part that he glossed over...or ignored/forgot/discarded...was the most important revelation of his essay: All of a sudden I realized what I had been missing, and I was horrified. A skilled and intense gamemaster had brought back the magic.

It's not about creating a story...it's about experiencing the fantasy. And to do that requires a skilled, intense, and committed GM...and players who are open, receptive, and committed to operating in the GM's world. When THAT happens...whether you're playing D&D, RuneQuest, Vampire, whatever...THEN you're getting the point of play. The point of play is the experience of playing. YOU are the story.

: )

Fantasy Objectives (Part 3)

Ugh. I know no one cares particularly about my problems, but yesterday was a real mess. Hell, most of the week has been less than ideal. I won’t go into detail (especially about work-related stuff that won’t matter to most) but for those readers who know him, my brother blew back into town Saturday night and I and my family have been dealing with that train wreck ever since.  It’s been enough to put me off my game…literally. Last night I went to the bar completely unprepared, even forgetting my beans at home, and ended up doing little in the way of playing or testing because AB was down at the bar and I had to handle his shit. Ugh.

Which is pretty sad because I had two new players who were really down to get on some gaming. And by “new” I meant really and truly new…they’ve never played RPGs, other than a couple computer versions and they were really excited to play “real Dungeons & Dragons with a real Dungeon Master.” Well, the girl was very excited…her boyfriend seemed to be more supportive and curious than “really excited.”

So it was unfortunate that we didn’t get started till 10 or so, and then I spent a whole passel of time explaining what an RPG is and how it works in the simplest terms. By the time we got through that and character creation (and the general rules overview which is decidedly simple compared to “actual” Dungeons & Dragons), it was close enough to midnight that I really had to call it. I still had to drive my brother back to Shoreline after all. But they were both enthusiastic to return next Thursday…the girl more so than the guy.

Age of the Newbies: 28 (female) and 38 (male).

Even though the game itself was a wreck, I still got some good ideas for tweaks to the game just from the character generation process. Remember, I’m trying to write a game for non-(RPG)gamers, and this would have been an excellent test…if we (I) hadn’t been distracted by my brother’s antics.

We’ll see if they actually show up next week. Fortunately, they live close by.

Regardless, I need to start “getting it together.” Now, part of that is getting back to my objectives series. The point of the last two posts, by the way, may have been lost on some folks…I was trying to lay a little groundwork for my thought process when I turn to designing a fantasy adventure game with different goals than D&D. Here are the things I’d hope people would take away from the last two posts:

1. Having an objective of play is part of what makes a game a game.
2. D&D had an objective of play (finding treasure), that was later subjugated (in priority) to a secondary feature of play not necessarily conceptualized by the designers originally: role-playing.
3. Role-playing (of which I’ve written before) is the thing that makes RPGs unique in gaming and as such this aspect has taken priority in RPG design since the advent of the medium.
4. Unfortunately, this has led to a loss of the thing that made RPGs “games” in the first place, namely an objective of play. Instead, emphasis on the play itself has supplanted objective leading to games only being playable when A) objective is added by pre-existing suppositions, and/or B) when players “in the know” can create pastiche of specific IP. Some (emphasis on that word!) indie-games in recent years have incorporated objectives, though the motive for this may be different from my own (i.e. making a game a “game”) and may lack broad appeal because of the type of objectives being included.

Now let me throw in a slight, amended disclaimer here and now: these RPGs I’m calling “unfortunate” or “flawed” or lacking in “broad appeal” are not necessarily BAD pastimes. There’s nothing inherently “wrong” with creating Firefly pastiche with Traveller, for example, or Neuromancer with Cyberpunk. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying GURPS role-playing because you like the system better than D&D, even though you want to do the same thing with the game (explore adventure sites, find treasure, etc.). If you are a veteran gamer, and you like the genre and system and are willing to put in the necessary work to make it functional, something like Starblazers may be right up your alley…and dammit, I’m not trying to tell you you’re doing it wrong, or you need to stop playing, or you should spit on these games or their designers. Likewise, there ain’t nothing wrong with playing an indie game like, say, Nicotine Girls if you’re feeling like that’s going to be a fun time that particular evening…certainly it’s cool to experiment and enjoy different things, and we can learn about ourselves stepping outside out comfort zone.

I was just kidding about the stomping, okay? Jeez.

Here’s the deal:

• I want to write a game that is fantasy without a wargamey or kill-and-loot basis to it (i.e. a game with different objectives from Old School D&D). Not because D&D is wrong, but because sometimes you want to eat an apple instead of an orange.
• I want to write a game that is accessible to non-veteran gamers, especially young ones. And one of the strategies to doing this means making the game more “game-like” by providing an objective of play. “What’s the object of the game? What are we working towards in-play?” The game should be able to answer this question, preferably on page one and in an explicit fashion.
• At the same time, the game should be loose enough in structure to still allow and encourage imaginary role-playing because THAT is the main stand-out feature of RPGs or (as I like to call them) “fantasy adventure games.” It’s the thing the medium offers that other games cannot.
• Finally, I (personally) would like the game to be serial in nature…not a one-off story like so many Story Now games…because I feel there is a benefit to extended play, character identification, and gradual (not slow!) development.

Now I wrote the first two posts on this topic before I ever bothered to check Wikipedia on the subject of game; the stuff I wrote was coming straight off the top of my head. However, I did take the time to look up the subject yesterday and found nothing terribly contradictory with my definition of “game” (specifically as to having an object of play). What was more interesting to me was what the Wikipedia had to say about role-playing games as a sub-category: there was a lot written on the way the game is played (duh) and very little on the general objectives of play. The text appears to suggest that the RPGs are “collaborative story-telling games” which implies the object is to create a story…definitely an object of many indie-games but really hard to do with your average commercial RPGs. I suppose the point can be debated (the ease of creating “story,” whatever that means, with a non-story focused RPG)…but regardless I have not known many players – certainly not a majority – that sit down the RPG table saying, “Let’s create a story tonight.”

And with regard specifically to table-top RPGs, we find this text:

During a typical game session, the GM will introduce a goal for the players to achieve through the actions of their characters…the goal may be made clear to the players at the outset, or may become clear to them during the course of the game.

To me, this just emphasizes what I’ve been writing about: there isn’t an objective to this thing called a “game” except what the participants bring to it. In which case one might ask is this really a game? Or is this it just “play” with some rules tacked on? For that matter, if the GM can change the rules and goal at a whim, doesn’t that move it farther from game and closer to play anyway? A free-for-all controlled by one egomaniacal participant?

Hopefully that’s not the usual case: after all, plenty of these games counsel the GM to be fair and even-handed when dealing with players. On the other hand, several RPGs also imply GMs should use their authority to manipulate the system and players in order to get a “fun game” (and who’s standard is used as the judge of fun?).

Whatever…that’s enough beating of the dead horse. People do have reasons for playing RPGs over other games, even without objectives, and here’s what they are, as far as I can tell:

Escapism from reality: first and foremost, imagining yourself in the fantasy world, taking on the persona of someone other than yourself: a wizard, a superhero, a gunslinger, a secret agent, whatever. The RPG medium provides structured play for pretending to be a particular “not me” person.

Exploration of the unknown: playing an imaginary character allows a person to experience (in their imagination) things they never would (or would never want to) in real life. High speed ar chases. Hyper-space travel. Fighting dragons. Fighting anything. Getting killed.

And that’s about it.

In-game achievement, collaborative story-telling, one-upping your buddy…these are things one can do without a role-playing game. Same with exploring a favorite genre: read a book or watch a movie. Same with kibitzing with buddies. Same with having “fun.” There are other games and pastimes that will satisfy these entertainment needs.

Immersive gaming, or so I've been told.

Now video games can provide this exploration and escapism…especially as vid technology improves to create a more immersive game experience. If I want to escape daily life and explore the criminal underworld, I can pick up a copy of Grand Theft Auto V and go to town. If I want to experience the horrors of war without enlisting in the army I can play Call of Duty or whatever the coolest army game is these days. But I’d argue there are a couple-three things that RPGs have up on video games, even leaving aside any social benefits from interacting in person or educational benefits from forcing players to read and do their own math. Those things include:

1. Freedom of action: a video game can only allow you to do what the game has been programmed to do. An RPG is as wide-open as the participants imagination allows.
2. Speed of update: video games can add additional content to increase replay-ability and/or extend normal gameplay experience. But an RPG can be updated easily and constantly – on-the-fly as necessary – and “bugs” and “patches” easily removed by the participants at the table. In the past, Dragon and similar publications made a business of ideas for additional, optional content that gamers could throw in their game. Again there are little limitations when the game resides in the minds and imaginations of the players (as opposed to requiring hard-wired programming).
3. I’d argue that the trained imagination provides a more powerful experience in play than a video game…the video game (generally) removes the player from the experience. But some folks might debate this depending on the game; “first person” games are especially effective in providing an immersive experience and generating emotional response.

The point being: there’s still a reason to play…and in some cases to prefer…table-top role-playing games. They’re still relevant form of entertainment, even in our 21^st century. But to compete with other forms of entertainment requires an ease and accessibility to non-gamers that I think is conspicuously absent in a lot of game design.

All right, in my next post on this subject (which I may or may not get to this weekend), I’ll try to bring this discussion “home” in terms of the game I’m working on. However, I want to take a look at a couple RPGs that I haven’t played/read, especially Barbarians of Lemuria. From the reviews I’ve read on-line, its system seems remarkably similar to the one I’ve been developing/testing.

[to be continued]

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]

Fantasy Objectives (Part 1)

Last week, about five minutes after finishing up my post on Bean Counting, I began writing the follow-up post entitled something like “Adventure Objectives: Yes, THAT…Again.” If you run a Google search using the words “blackrazor” and “objective” you’ll find a bunch of past posts where I tried (without much success) to nail down some amorphous ideas I had regarding game objectives…ideas which met considerable resistance from some readers.

At the time, I didn’t really have a dog in the fight – that is, I wasn’t too concerned with resolving anything regarding “objectives.” I said my piece (such as it was) and let it go, moving on to other thoughts and topics. It wasn’t really imperative that I crystallize my thoughts on the concept or come up with any type of “plan” for anything I was working on. But in writing my Bean Counting post, I realized that going forward with my ideas for a new type of fantasy adventure game would absolutely require me to return to the subject. Because a game isn’t a game without real, concrete objectives of play.

I wish I still had my notes from psycho-physical development class (my Jesuit prep school couldn’t just have “P.E.” like normal high schools). Dragging my memory (freshman year was more than 25 years ago), I can recall that we had some pretty specific definitions of the concepts “play,” “game,” and “sport.” They were differentiated somewhat like this: 

• PLAY: has no set rules, goals, or time limit.
• GAME: has specific objective of play (and thus rules to determine how the objective is reached), but no limit of time.
• SPORT: incorporates a limitation of time in addition to specific objective of play.

There are a myriad of degrees or levels within each category of course. Football (pick your preferred type) is a fairly different animal from competitive bass fishing, for example, but they both fall into the “sport” category. The vast majority of tabletop games (card, board, role-playing, war) are correctly labeled in the “game category” because there’s no expectation of time constraint. You can walk away from it and come back later (if you so choose) to continue the game.

However, for a game to be “a Game” it has to have a specific objective of play and rules governing how one reaches that objective.  Settlers of Catan, checkers, pinochle…all these games have an objective of play and rules that govern how that objective may be met. People playing Warhammer 40K don’t just set-up and move models willy-nilly; they’re required to use standard army lists and follow a detailed order of play with every turn (including the set-up of the board). Contrast this with a pair of children simply playing pretend with the 40K miniatures – or action figures or toys or whatever – with no specific rules (or an ever-changing rule-set based on social contract) nor objectives of play. It might look like a “game,” but really it’s just play…important to a youngster’s development, certainly entertaining, but lacking a level of intensity and sophistication inherent in the definition of game.

Role-playing games are not sport; while I suppose the tournament setting of previous decades injected a constraint of time into some types of RPG play (the wargame styled RPGs of TSR, like original D&D and Top Secret), the degree of latitude given to the “referee” to make rulings, the variation in possible number of participants, and the procedure by which play precedes in-session would all seem to prohibit the “sport” label. On the other hand, RPGs are not simple play; RPGs have rules that constrain play, even if the extent of those rules vary from game-to-game (the rules found in Puppetland are much “lighter” than those of, say, Champions but both have a set of written procedures that provide boundaries for all participants, players and GMs alike).

However, while RPGs may fall into that middle category of “game,” few provide actual specific objectives of play, which is the main thing that distinguishes a game from simple play. Having a set of rules (any extent) isn’t enough…game rules are designed (or should be designed) to facilitate play with an end objective in mind.

And “fun” is not an objective, despite the text of many of these RPGs. Fun is something inherent in any of these pastimes (play, game, sport)…if it’s not fun, why should we take part in these things? For ca$h? Sign me up to be a professional game player!

No, “to have fun” is not (despite the text found in many RPG’s introduction) the object of the game. No one designs a game with the express purpose of making it un-fun. Well, maybe some particularly misguided or masochistic type. However, even designers who write games that are so crunchy as to be near-unplayable due to the extended search & handling time...even these were designed by someone who felt that it would make for a fun game. No, fun is not an objective of play…it’s an expectation.

So then what are we left with? What do we have if we simply delete the line that says “the object of the game is to have fun?” Well, we’d appear to still have “games” with specific rules (unlike wide-open “play”) that directs and facilitates play to…no stated objective? Yeah, for most RPGs, that’s about the shape of it.

No stated objective, i.e. no explicit objective. But maybe there’s an unstated, non-explicit objective to be found…I’ll get to that in a second.

You were looking for this, right?

Dungeons & Dragons, God bless it, does have an explicit objective: acquisition of treasure. In play, the objective of the game is to acquire treasure by exploring dark and dangerous dungeons, overcoming challenges and defeating antagonists and walking that tight rope between acceptable risk and cautious discretion. Which is why, when all is said and done, D&D is a pretty well-designed game, even if it has some warts. We can thank Dave Arneson for this particular design choice: as he described (in his own words) he wanted to create a fantasy game of subterranean exploration for his wargaming buddies. Part of his design process was establishing an objective – a reason for the characters to be doing their exploration. But this is more than simple character motivation (in terms of “plot” or “story”); when you create a game, you need to create a goal or objective for the game because – duh – games have objectives. People grasp this intuitively, even without a master’s degree in “game theory.”

[well, people other than most RPG designers]

A wargame is a game, too, and has an objective: defeating one’s opponent on the field of battle. But this isn’t a very good objective for the basic premise of D&D since the game is A) cooperative (i.e. players do better when they work together), and B) the referee/DM is All-Powerful with few (if any) limits. In a wargame, the objective is (usually) fair because the game incorporates rules to ensure a level playing field (or one with parameters acceptable to all parties). In a game like D&D, the only thing ensuring a “fair and balanced” game is the magnanimity of the DM. And sometime, that’s not all that magnanimous (see Tomb of Horrors as an example).

But assuming the rules offer some guidelines regarding a fair and balanced approach to challenge setting and an objective method of measuring success, you can approach some degree of acceptable challenge. In the case of D&D, you have treasure acquisition as the goal with random placement of treasure (see random treasure tables based on monsters encountered) as a means of making the game more balanced. It remains a game…an interesting one, a challenging one, one that encourages imagination…even though it’s a game that has the strange and wonderful side-effect of creating this escapist fantasy we call “role-playing.”

It’s not just killing monsters and collecting coin that made D&D popular.

; )

[to be continued]

Kicking the GM When He's Down

So in my last post, I wrote a bit about objective-less RPGs from the player point-of-view, and how frustrating it can be. Frustrating in that an RPG may present a lot of "cool things you can do/be" but in actual practice you (the player) get shut down in order to make the game playable. At least, that was kind of the gist of what I was writing though I apologize if I wasn't succinct enough.

However, the fact of the matter is that the vast majority of my time I am running the game (i.e. acting as Game Master) rather than playing the game as a player. So one might guess that most of my frustration with objective-less RPGs has to do with how it affects the GM.

That would be a good guess.

Why would someone ever choose the role of GM? Because they are a frustrated (i.e. unpublished) fiction writer? Because they like to lord it over people as a de facto "god" of the fantasy universe?

I don't know. Really, I don't...I can say that there IS a degree of "control freak" to my personality, at least from an astrological perspective: having Pluto in the 10th house gives me a deep emotional attachment to be in positions of authority and control (or at least the appearance of looking like I know what I'm doing), and being a GM allows me to do that. It certainly helps fulfill the essential needs of my Capricorn Venus, too.

On the other hand, I've got Neptune conjunct my Ascendant ("rising") sign, so I'm able to adapt to other styles of play (including giving over control of a game) and that impatient Aries Mars in opposition to Uranus makes me want to break free of any responsibility I have to my players...maybe that's why I have a tendency to kill their characters at every opportunity.

; )

Who knows? It could just be that I'm an A-type personality that can only see things being done "my way or the highway." Maybe I don't take orders from other authority figures very well, and being in the captain's chair allows me to steer clear of conflict on that front.

Whatever it is, I do enjoy running games. I am a fairly creative person and being the game master gives me the chance to create worlds and adventures and fantastic (as in "fantasy") situations and the opportunity to make all sorts of NPC personalities (which I find fun). And I don't get so wholly committed to "my own story" that I care if PCs wreck the thing...I am really not into railroading player action to conform to any set plot.

But despite my enjoyment in that, being a GM is quite a bit of work. Just "knowing the rules good" isn't enough to run a game...there's management of the game, management of the player characters (sometimes management of the players themselves), acting as judge/adjudicator for odd actions/circumstances, pacing of the session, making sure everyone gets involved and has an opportunity to actively participate (this is part of the management thing)...

And all of that (which can, frankly, be exhausting, especially with more than two or three players)...all of that comes only after the preparation for the game itself. 'Cause it's not enough to show up to the game table with a rule book and dice and the knowledge of how to quickly find such-and-such table on page 136 (or whatever). No, it is the GM's task (in all RPGs that utilize a GM) to craft an adventure or scenario or plot or whatever a particular game chooses to call it: the GM is responsible for determining the particular opportunities and avenues open for exploration.

For some DM's this may be as "simple" as drawing a dungeon map and stocking it (random or not) with challenges and loot. For some (like Alexis over at Tao of D&D) it might mean creating an entire living-breathing world of society and customs and economy and trade routes and knowing how those things interact so that when players say, "I want to be a mustard farmer," he knows how many plots of land are available for cultivation.

Hey, but that's what we're signing up for, right? If you want to be the GM/DM then you've got to be willing to put in the time...even if it just means thinking up an idea an hour beforehand and jotting down some quick-n-dirty notes for how the plot/adventure will unfold.

When a game has a blueprint for creating game sessions...be it the "mission" of Top Secret, the "dungeon" of Basic D&D, or the "investigation" of Call of Cthulhu, the GM has an idea of what the prep-work for the game will look like. Maybe not how to go about getting to the final product (different folks pursue the creative endeavor in different ways), but at least an end result...something to present at the game session. And because players know what they're getting into (due to the explicit instruction of what game play is about), they can get on the same page with the GM.

Top Secret players: "What's our mission?"

GM/Administrator: "Your mission, should you choose to accept it is..."

D&D players: "Any leads on potential treasure hunts?"

DM: "As a matter of fact, you've heard about this ancient temple..."

CoC players: "What's the recent mystery we've been hipped to?"

GM/Keeper: "Well, Bill's uncle has recently vanished; he was known to dabble in the occult..."

What with all the other work that goes into the game, having a clear-cut idea of play is a damn godsend. As a GM you are already put in a position of managing player expectations; for example, even if they know they'll be dungeon delving again, you still have to play up to (or down to) the challenge level they're expecting. Some players relish a kill-crazy scenario like the Tomb of Horrors, while other players get totally disgruntled with the inclusion of a single level-draining monster. As a GM of any game, there's a certain amount of adjustment that goes on with balancing things to players' taste (as well as helping them push their limits in this regard)...as long as you have a base or foundation (what I referred to as an "objective of play") then you can build on that.

For example, some veteran D&D players might find the whole dungeon schtick to be lacking after awhile. They get a handle on the best tactics for overcoming most challenges, and develop a nose for avoiding or ignoring parts that are too difficult (I've had players decide to skip going to a particular dungeon because it was rumored to be filled with undead and they were light in the cleric department...that's just smart play). But the DM can up the ante by adding political ramifications (as in, issues with the local government) or ethical dilemmas, or romantic entanglements, or religious/spiritual consequences to an adventure. A DM can create situations where these "non-dungeon" challenges need to be navigated as part of or in addition to a "standard adventure scenario." Lasting consequences to a campaign can come out of adventures, making the "dungeon" more than an isolated site of exploration...if the PCs somehow negotiate a trade route with the Drow (or ally with them to conquer the kingdoms of the surface world) you've got yourself a pretty interesting story rooted firmly in the foundation of "explore and evil subterranean society."

What if your Top Secret investigator gets captured by the terrorist (or other governmental organization) she was trying to infiltrate and becomes a turncoat, either as a character choice ("my character would probably break if waterboarded") or circumstantially (the enemy outfit somehow blackmails the character or bribes her with enough dough)? Then you add a whole new dimension to your TS game as the traitor may be sabotaging the rest of the "party" or playing "both sides of the fence" in future missions. Or what if one of the enemy agents turns out to be a "love interest" of the PC (as one finds in O So Many James Bond films)...how can this complicate the situation or jeopardize the job? Interesting things and neat role-playing opportunities can come out of a game, even with rather vanilla objectives like "go assassinate this bad guy" or "go stop this terrorist organization by infiltrating their base."

Within an objective framework there is opportunity for both the PCs and the GM to "mix things up."

But that's almost a secondary consideration for me...I mean, when running an RPG, I will almost always attempt to dig into a deeper development of character when given half a chance (though that's a whole 'nother post entirely). For me, the main thing is this: with all the other responsibilities on my plate, the last freaking thing I want to do is try to figure out what exactly players are supposed to be doing in the game.

Yes, I can usually come up with an idea based on the premise/setting of these high concept games...an idea (as in, one) that players may or may not like depending on their own conceptions of "what the game is." But sustaining play? Long term? As opposed to a one-off single session. No...it's too much.

Call me lazy, fine. I prefer long term play to one-off games, and if I'm going to get to the "meat" of role-playing, it is far easier for me to have a frame or structure from which to hang the game...and I'm not just talking about system/rules. If I have a basic game "concept" than I can explore (or drive the player characters to explore) other things within that paradigm. Without it, they're just wandering and (generally) counting on me, the "game master," to come up with stuff for them to do, i.e. "adventures."

Does this sound like I'm denigrating the players' ability to be proactive? Um, no, not really. In my experience, players tend to take an active role in choosing the individual goals and agendas of their characters...though generally only after they've come to identify, develop, and understand the character, something that occurs (mainly) during play itself. And the amount of time it takes to create that rapport and idea of internal character motivation, varies not only by player, but by circumstance as well.

[and THAT's a whole different series of posts, too!]

And until players get to that level of comfort with their characters, where they can understand and internalize motivation and take a proactive stance towards what they do in the imaginary game world...until that happens, guess who the player is looking to for direction as to what they should be doing?

Yeah, the GM. And I, frankly, don't have time to tell you what you're supposed to be doing in the game...I'm trying to prep and run and manage and anticipate and improvise, etc...all those things I mentioned earlier. Players asking me, "what are we supposed to do?" How the hell should I know if the game designer doesn't tell me?

"Just shut up and take the job my NPC is handing you." I mean, isn't that what it boils down to eventually?

Here's the real sample adventure from Hollow Earth Expedition (when I was referencing the film crew, that was the downloadable sample adventure from their web site): players are called into a meeting with a U.S. Army major who outlines a scenario similar to the opening scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark; i.e. Hitler has organized a team to go after an occult artifact [in this case, an ancient location of power rather than an ancient object] and the U.S. government wants the PCs to go after it. The briefing knows nothing about the thing (or the Hollow Earth for that matter) except that it is believed to be in the North Pole.

Now how exactly does that work with the concept archetypes like Field Biologist, Big Game Hunter, Jungle Missionary, or Lost Traveller? Answer: it doesn't. The adventure lists the archetypes "best suited" for the scenario, but doesn't preclude others. Same with certain Motivations (the HEX equivalent of alignment, or in VTM terms "Natures"). Since the scenario can be used "as the introduction to a longer campaign" the GM is explicitly told to talk to the players about what kind of game they're expecting and what kind of characters they're interested in playing.

All well and good...except that without a standard concept of game play, whose to say player interests or expectations can be met or even reconciled with the adventure scenario itself?

I ran into this issue when running Over The Edge, a game with "unlimited potential" and no standard method of play. I wanted to run a kind of "everyman-gets-drawn-into-a-seedy-underground-world-of-blackmarket-intrigue" with the usual OTE weirdness. My player wanted to play a suave and street-smart arms-dealer. Um...

The problem with OTE is that there are so many reasons for player characters to be on the island of Al Amarjah, and such a wide-open method of character creation...even their own examples of actual play feature players that are "troublesome" (at least from the GM's perspective). From the players' perspective? I'm sure they were just working within the rules to create a character they thought would be fun to play.

My OTE game lasted one session. My Rifts "campaigns," some of which involved a LOT of prep work for adventure planning/plotting and strings of "events" never lasted more than two sessions. Most never lasted more than one. Ars Magica has never lasted more than two or three sessions, whether I was running them or not, even when all the players were very committed to playing the game.

And as I said, I prefer long-term play and the natural evolution of character development that comes out of that form of play. One-off adventures are fine for conventions and sample/example sessions, but part of the fun for me (and the reason I prefer "conventional" RPGs to most indie games) is seeing where a long-term saga/campaign goes.

And without a built-in objective it's hard to do that.

And I don't like "hard." Running a game is tough enough. I've got enough on my plate without needing to devise a method of play that A) integrates the players' expectations with my own, and B) provides a week-to-week reason for play in order to keep a campaign going without an overall objective of play.

Does it sound like I'm whining a lot here? Sure I am...because I just dropped $50 on a book that expects me to do the work that the designer could've/should've done. I said in my original post on the subject, that this kind of lazy design choice is a serious irritant to me; I don't mind doing the work of the GM, I expect to take that on when I take up the mantle and decide to run a game. But the designer needs to do more than say, "here's a neat setting and rules for 'doing things,' now figure out how you want to play." Pal, the GM's job already comes with enough stuff to do, already requires "imagination added," don't give me YOUR job as a designer on top of it!

I think many designers must make the assumption that people (GMs) will "just know what to do" when they pick up their book, and it's more important to spend time on detailing the intricacies of the world setting, figuring this information will act as a "springboard" to the GM cultivating a game. Eh. Such stuff gives me ideas of what I want to incorporate into a game, but doesn't provide the "roadmap" to play itself. And it's a royal pain in the ass trying to figure it out myself...a pain in the ass that I'm generally unwilling to deal with since I know from experience it doesn't get one's game very far anyway, without a clear set of objectives with which everyone (players and GM) can "get on board."

All right, that's enough for now...this post is getting overly long.

Objecting to Objectives

Didn’t do any gaming last night, though I was down at the Baranof tipping a drink. My original plan had been to get some writing done. That didn’t happen either, though, as people kept “dropping by.” First my brother and his new buddy, Joel, showed up wanting to play D&D (like I’m a vending machine?!) and conversation devolved into how Google has a pipeline to extraterrestrials and the 'droid phone is reverse engineered alien tech.

Ugh.

More intelligent conversation followed, though, when Tim (head honcho from Gary’s Games) showed up after his pizza party at Razzi’s (it was Tim’s B-day a couple days back). Tim follows my blog and as a fellow game designer, had some thoughts on the whole objectives thang I’ve been talking about lately. While I managed to bring him around to my way of thinking (more or less), we realized that part of the difficulty here is my use of the term “objective.”

So while yesterday’s post made a half-assed stab at what I mean when I use the term, I can see that it’s a problematic one as it gets all jumbled with “goals” and “mission objectives” and such.

The problem is, I can’t just say “I want games to be ABOUT SOMETHING” (which is kind of what I want to say) because all RPGs are “about something.”

Deadlands is about “undead cowboys and weird horror in the Old West.”

Ars Magica is about “a group of magi and their companions in Mythic Europe.”

Vampire the Masquerade is about “vampires hiding and surviving in a darker version of our current reality.”

Traveller (and many other space travel games) is about “dudes in space” with a particular setting (Terran Empire, specific aliens, whatever) built in.

See, all those games are about something. But they provide no BLUEPRINT for how the game gets played. That’s what I meant by “objectives of play.”

Here’s what they DO give you:

• Interesting character creation (everyone wants to play a neat character, right? Part of the joy of role-playing is the escapism in pretending to be someone else).
• Interesting systems, what we call rules or mechanics (designers feel the need to distinguish their product from others AND it’s nice to have nifty rules specific to the particular setting).
• Interesting and/or inspiring premise or setting (dinosaurs in the Hollow Earth! Thousand year old vampires partying at night clubs! Star-travelling inquisitors of an undying god-emperor rooting our demonic heretics threatening the stability of the Imperium!).

And that’s it…aside from a large page count and slick graphics.

That’s not enough.

Nothing in Deadlands (or Hollow Earth Expedition or Vampire or Rifts or whatever) explains why the characters are together doing anything. Nothing explains what they’re supposed to do. Nothing explains to the GM how to facilitate game play. There are suggestions for players to “check with the GM to see if a character concept is acceptable.” There are “adventure ideas” for the GM. But for the most part, all you’ve got is a pick pile of pieces…possibly shiny and newfangled but not assembled…rather than an actual engine for doing anything.

And a pile of pieces may as well be a pile of shit.

Sure (to take the analogy a little further) RPGs may be “some assembly required” but the GOOD games (my judgment call, folks) have INSTRUCTIONS FOR ASSEMBLY.

For example, Moldvay’s Basic set explains how to make a dungeon: think of a scenario, draw a map, add specific challenges and treasures, stock random challenges and treasures (if desired).

Edwards’s Sorcerer explains how to create a story driven scenario using PCs demons and kickers and relationship charts and how to drive the story with bangs.

Weedin’s Horror Rules explains how to write a script (HR’s term for “adventure”) using mood, antagonists, chain of events, and cast of characters, all in a style that mimics classic horror/slasher films. It also explains how to run the game, drive the plot (using actual rule mechanics) and how to adapt different styles of play (ranging from humorous to heroic to PVP) to the game.

These are examples of well-designed games that provide more than just “pieces” for play. They actually provide what could be called “a complete game” unlike the majority of commercial RPGs on the market.

Let’s look at it from a player’s perspective, for a moment:

I find a copy of HEX (Hollow Earth Expedition) at the game shop, and say “Right on! Human adventurers mixing it up with dinosaurs! And it looks a LOT less boring than Cadillacs & Dinosaurs (The Most Boring RPG Ever Written). Let’s pick it up and give it a whirl!”

I purchase the game, read through it drooling at the neat options for character creation, loving the simple even-odd dice mechanics, totally digging the Dinosaur-Nazi-Ancient Atlantean setting. I convince my group to run the game. Everyone digs it and buys a copy (yay! A win for the designer/publisher!)!

We all read it so we know how to play! The players agree not to read the sample adventure scenario so as not to spoil the “surprise.” We bring characters to the first session:

Player Joe creates a total hardcase bootlegger/gangster. Player Christy creates a Laura Croft-esque treasure hunter with an Indiana Jones-like code of ethics. Player Jimmy creates a “mad scientist.” JB, of course, creates a big game hunter hoping to mount a stuffed dino-head on his wall.

The GM says, “Well okay so you’re all on this movie set…” WTF?!
The GM explains that’s the sample scenario: everyone is a part of a movie crew that gets sucked into the Hollow Earth. Nobody in the group wants to play “members of a movie crew.” The example characters are things like “treasure hunter,” “mad scientist,” and “big game hunter.”

Okay, says the GM…scratch that…I’ll think of something that uses your characters.

A week later, the GM is at a loss. I mean, he supposes he can make them all a part of a group testing an experimental digging machine…but why would they be together? The gangster character is looking to exploit opportunities, the BGH wants fame in the form of killing the most dangerous game, the scientist wants to create crazy shit, and the treasure hunter with the heart of gold wants to find fabulous treasures without anyone getting hurt in the process.

The game doesn’t explain this. The game doesn’t provide a blueprint for this. The game suggests that GMs find a way of unifying the group (as with the movie folk scenario) but then doesn’t explain how to reconcile players’ disparate expectations…expectations created by the game’s own character creation section.

In the end, the GM has a couple-three options:

• Require the players to create new characters that work within the GM’s concept of how the game is going to be played. “You’re all part of a movie set,” or “You’re all Arctic explorers in the Royal Military qualified for airship duty.”
• Force the players to give up their own preferred character concepts for ones that “work together.” The mad scientist invented the digging machine, using the gangster’s money. The gangster hopes to exploit the resources of the Hollow Earth. The other players have been brought along as “special consultants” (in archaeology and big game, respectively) setting aside their own pre-conceived agendas. This still doesn’t explain how to create an adventure, nor how to keep players cooperative in the face of different goals/motivations…but at least it gives some semblance of “reason” for the characters to be together. So long as no one else joins with a wildly different character concept.
• Allow players to keep their character concepts, and just hamfist them into the game environment (i.e. who cares why they’re together, let’s just play!). For example, “You’re all refugees who somehow ended up stranded in the Hollow Earth: survive and find your way out!” To which Jimmy says, “but I want to build crazy inventions” and Christy says, “but I want to find lost civilizations.” And the GM says, “Well, right now you’re being chased by a T-Rex backed Nazi platoon…what are you going to do about it?” And next session it will be, “Well, right now there’s an exploding volcano and hostile natives…what are you going to do about it?” Etc. until players get tired of “lip-service protagonism.”

Now, Tim pointed out to me that games like GURPS or Rifts requires a GM to make some stiff choices in order for the game to “work” as in: “Okay, folks this is the game, this is what it will be addressing, this is the type of characters allowed, this is what’s not allowed, this is what the adventure is about.” Fine; dandy. But then:

A) Make it explicit in the rules that this is necessary for running the game (‘cause it is).
B) Make it explicit in the rules that the players are only empowered in so much as they are allowed empowerment by the GM. In other words, there ain’t nothing “wide open” or “endless possibility” about the game, except so much as it applies to the GM’s preference.
For me, as a PLAYER, this is a turn-off. At least in D&D, I get a say in my own character concept (I can play a fighter with a 9 strength and an irascible attitude if I damn well please), within the framework of the game. Being told, “well, you can’t be a Ventrue elder or a bloodbound Tremere because all the PCs are going to be young anarchists of the 12th generation” is sucky. That ain’t what I signed up for.

That’s just the player perspective though. From a GM perspective these games are just as much a headache…but I’ll get to that in another post.
; )