Showing posts with label Hippy Games. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hippy Games. Show all posts

Thursday, 29 February 2024

A Review of Sinjin

 

Sinjin! A PDF (so far) adventure-game by M Diaz and Jackson Smith. Art by Scrap Princess, Julie de Graag, Jackson Smith, Katie Vasquez, and Alfred Stieglitz. 

Available here; https://thehexculture.itch.io/sinjin 

Some nerds in late-Victorian Fantasy Florida accidentally killed Death and took their (her?) stuff leaving the netherworld bollocked up and bleeding through in a Florida swamp.

Now YOU must wander about finding stuff and not getting killed in a magic swamp that’s a bit (but not very) different every time you go back, with the very general aim of making things better, or at least not making them worse, and maybe even FIXING DEATH. 

(Note, criticisms or analysis are intended to have a neutral tone. I am not claiming I could do better (I haven’t), OBVIOUSLY this is the opinion of one man. I should not have to explicitly state something so fucking obvious and banal but the west has fallen so here we are.)

 


The Grand Concept 

Sinjin is an Indy game. Looked at from a D&D perspective, it’s an adventure with some decision processes attached, looked at from a storygame or AW-like perspective its .. perhaps the best description would be an object-and-location based game with an internal clock and some simple arrangements for resolving conflicts. 

It’s in the blurry boundary between a more hard-edged D&D adventure, a soft Gauntlet-style ‘scene’ based game and an actual story game. This might be a cognitive space that is actually quite hard to design for. When I come to things I would probably question about Sinjin, many of them seem to have roots in its vague and curious origins. It’s a gypsy child in a noble House!


The Sinking Swamp 

The adventure space is made up from the combination of two main concepts; the geographic shape of the Swamp in which you are wandering around, and ‘Depth’ a kind of transformation of the play area rooted, in the paracosm itself; in the slowly deepening and decaying power of the supernatural as the swamp is sucked into the netherverse, and in game design terms; in dungeon levels and things like Emmy Allens Stygian Library.

 

The Swamp 

We have causeways, a river system and swamps in between, with a small number of specifically-mapped distinct areas called ‘Landmarks’ and a variety of smaller less-specific minor landmarks.

With each new expedition the arrangement of the major Landmarks changes somewhat, but some aspects of the nature of the linkages between them remain, and the total number of major Landmarks doesn’t change and the details of their particular individual geography don’t change.

So for each adventure you have a rough idea of what places can be found, and of how to get there, but to fulfil your mission and get to, for instance, the abandoned sugar-mill, you will still need to wander around investigating etc. 

“The Territory is unfriendly and unpredictable, but the goal is for navigation to be challenging, rather than impossible. To this end, clearly communicate to players that the general locations of major landmarks don’t change relative to the primary river channel and causeways (e.g. the Fish Camp, Great Vine Barren, and Ritual Wellspring are all linked by the primary channel; the Old Stone Fort, Fish Camp, and Sugar Mill are connected to each other with a triangle of causeways).”

 So in effect a shifting linecrawl, using the river as a guide.

(One of the notable ways that the particular nature of the place, the environment, and surrounding and historic culture work their way into the game is how deeply and richly embedded they are into every aspect, from the locations themselves, to objects, abilities, characters, monsters etc.)

 

“Depth” 

The Swamp is either sinking into the Netherworld, or the Netherworld is merging with the Swamp and expanding. In game terms, ‘depth’ makes reality more phantasmorgic, surreal, dreamlike and dangerous; 

“Depth 0

Sweltering days and balmy nights. You sweat, and the air hangs thick and damp around you. The land smells of orange blossom, wet grass, and, beneath the surface, the sickly sweet scent of decay.”

 “Depth 9-12

Quiet as the grave. By day, the Sun is dim and brassy; by night the Moon is actinic and painfully bright; you can see clouds pass behind both, and the sky feels claustrophobically low. Vast figures pace the horizon. Hair, fabric, and flora waft and wave as if buoyed by an invisible tide.

 Depth can be accessed by diving into the Ritual Wellspring (one of the main Landmarks). 

A great blue heron lies rotting near the reeds, one glaucous eye toward the sky. It whispers out to the first person who gets near it. It wants mullet from the Fish Camp. Each time it gets some, it’s flesh reknits a little more. After three times it will rise up– its neck still broken and slack, and will offer a Ghost Contract as a silent stalker.

 

You can also dive out of your depth and back up to your original. Depth also re-sets if you leave the adventure area and take a rest – you just come back in at whatever the current minimum depth is.

Some buildings and locations only exist at certain depths. To fulfil some missions or solve some problems you will need to ‘dive’ to particular depths and once there, find a specific familiar location, now presumably with much stranger and more dangerous things in it.

The land is slowly ‘sinking’ into deeper depths. Humans dying immediately increases minimum depth and leaving without completing goals also increases minimum depth. So the more adventures you have in the swamp, the ‘deeper’ everything gets. You can also bring Depth back up by achieving some goals or defeating some major foes. There is an end-point to all this – if Depth hits 13 then the curse escapes the area and spreads across the world. The game is built around this ‘ticking clock’.

While ‘Depth’ in Sinjin it has some relation to Dungeon Levels, Emmy Allens ‘depth’ in Stygian Library and Stygian Garden, Vandermeers ‘Annihilation’ and the Ballard and Stugatsky stories that prefigures it, and possibly some forms of madness in Call of Cthulhu, I don’t think I have seen or conceived of anything quite like this before. If you are into game design you are probably reading specifically for the combination of ‘depth’ and the semi-shifting geography.

I found the particularities and details of Sinjin as, or more, interesting but less scaleable since their deep interrelationship with this specific environment and situation is part of the appeal.

So. You are investigating a shifting version of the same place again and again. In effect, going back in to the ‘same dungeon’ again and again. While the ‘rooms’ shift around there are always the same rooms and growing contextual knowledge should help you both navigate between places and, in particular, make classic D&D style tactical use of the geographic particulars of each location, which never change.

But how would it feel to investigate the same ‘places’ over and over again, with them becoming ever more hallucinogenic and strange and populated by ever stranger and less comprehensible forms of the dead and undead? 

“The Territory is different every time players enter it. There are a handful of key constants, but players can never quite count on things being the way that they remember them.” 

This puts Sinjin in a complex relationship with the classic D&D-alike game actions of exploration and investigation.

Of course this is not D&D, nor intended to be so. It’s clearly a more drama-oriented ‘Gauntlety’ game. But many of these games that present themselves as ghost stories, soap-operas or interpersonal dramas, still have a lot of exploration, investigation and combat, and the interpersonal drama happens around those props. AW is built for the Soap Opera element in all of its parts but few of the ruleslights that draw from it are.

Would it be interesting or frustrating? Would the concept of ‘depth’ add depth or feel repetitious? There are enough supernatural etc connections and possible intrigues that might create a layered feel as you explore again, for different reasons, knowing where you will find but not what.

 




Diaz-Objects in Game Design 

When I talk about a Diaz-esque ‘elegant’ piece of game/world design, what I often mean is the use of natural language concepts and clear comprehensible idea structures in ways that allow complex gameplay without a lot of arguing or difficulties over how many points or whatever you have.

(I am of course assuming that most of these came from Diaz based on some familiarity with his previous work, though he is not the only author.)

Some Examples; 


Deaths Whetstone is a good call

The main factions of Sinjin are guilds of Necromancers, each of which is based around some item or tool they took from Death when Death died; a whetstone, inkwell and loom. Each of these is a creative tool that produces items with certain limited magical effects; sharpened blades, documents and cloth.

They are tools which create or alter other objects, and the originals are presumably eternal or don’t decay or wear but the objects they create do wear and can easily lose those qualities. To whit – sharp blades being blunted (it’s that particular sharpness and not the blade itself that has the magic), paper being burnt, lost or, in a swamp, rotting or the ink washing out, and clothes tearing and being worn. Presumably the main objects could be stolen or lost, and their creative capacity is focused into one useful and tangible modality.

Basing the factions around items, specifically around tools which create other items, themselves limited in both effect and in the numbers created, is a nice neat piece of game design. It unifies faction play with a neat in-game economy of access to magical items with highly specific uses which will themselves naturally degrade, and links that to the overarching theme or story of the game in a way that feels natural, functional, intuitive and right.

As a counter example imagine a faction with a portal, another with a magic book and another with say a non-creative tool like a spoon. In each case the effects produced are vague, hard to intuit, they don’t necessarily produce objects unless the game tells you, in which case another layer of abstraction is required to describe exactly what the guilds can do, (‘death points’ or something) and probably direct control of the tool is required to produce those effects, which then cannot be traded, lost, stolen or carried. (Unless you specifically describe that in the text; “you lose ten death points” etc.)


Necromancy in Sinjin

To put it very crudely, Necromancy in Sinjin is kind of ghost-Pokémon, or the indenture of specific incorporeal servants with specific skill and identity-locked abilities.

You can grab certain ghosts in certain situations and command them, but only in ways limited by their core nature or their prime or central function in life. There is also a material cost if you want to achieve material ends. So necromancy doesn’t create something for nothing, but instead is a transformer of one kind of generalised resource (ritual, sacrifice) into something more specific. It’s a Bank Account, or like having a clade of invisible servants with specific skills who can be called on to do things relating to those specific skills. You can re-interpret what those skills might mean or how they might be used but you don’t need to argue with someone over whether you have +5 to your Necromancy roll or whatever.

You can also grab animal souls or murderers souls, and even a flock of crows.

Key Diaz-esque aspects of this are that;

-        It’s all in natural language, no numbers.

-        It uses directly comprehensible real-life concepts (the soul of a Blacksmith, the soul of a flock of crows) with inherently obvious and clear limitations and abilities etc.

-        It directly embodies all of this in the paracosm; i.e. you have to take an hour to burn herbs at sunset rather than spending +10 Death points for a death surge.

-        Its relatively self-limiting and encourages thinking of new uses for the ‘tools’, (souls) you have and different interactions between them and the environment.


Expeditions, Treasure and Rewards

You start each game with a mission (taken from one of three generated by the DM), for one of the Guilds, for which they will offer a specific treasure, all of which are magical tools, often with limited uses, which will help you doing stuff in the swamp.

The possible expeditions are; Establish, Scout, Rescue, Recover, Collect and Hunt. Only one of the six core mission concepts involves necessary violence, the others involve investigating and getting, or in some cases schlepping big heavy things to places.

The rewards or treasure you get for these have a nice American Arcana feel; 

“Bragging Coat. A coat embroidered with boasts and depictions of great deads. Once per expedition, you can attempt a single act of superhuman strength or aptitude (jumping a great distance, kicking down a barn wall, picking a lock with a pine needle, telling a joke that makes a corpse laugh).” 

They feel like elements from a ‘Silver John’ story, though I don’t know if those tales were an influence, probably any independent investigation of American folklore would produce things ‘a bit like’ Silver John.

Having specific missions is a good idea because quite frankly, Players are basic as shit and unless you actively point them at a thing they a specifically meant to do, they will just wander blather and get lost in decision fatigue. Being able to pick from three different missions of different difficulty and lethality from three different factions is neat, as is starting the game in media-res with the PCs already in-country.

Hopefully the combinations of missions will play a part in adding depth and texture to the repeated missions; if the Guild of Scriveners paid you to set up a camp in one mission or grab a hostage then the results of that should still be in play organically in future sessions.

As well as the core reward for completing each mission there is a ‘Wandering Devil Merchant’ who wants to sell you various trinkets, and treasure, or ‘salvage’ which can be discovered in places you are likely to find it according to DM judgement. This is mildly sketchy, and somewhat gamic, with a touch of ‘Death Points’, but the actual Salvage are all in-world self-limiting Diaz-Objects; 

“Black Heron Spyglass. Once per expedition, you can look through this spyglass to see yourself at the location you’re observing. When you remove the spyglass from your eye, you will find yourself in that location.” 

So there is that gypsy child again. 

 


Monsters and Encounters

The creatures are universally interesting. Broken up into ‘The Living’ ‘Lesser Dead’, and the ‘Greater Dead, which are mindbending ‘final horror’ semi-inexplicable nightmares. There are some stand-outs. The Sabal Sphinx, one of the ‘Lesser Dead’ has some very good ‘D&D-esque’ rules;

“62 Sabal Sphinx

A human and panther corpse twisted and crushed together. One of its human hands holds a palm frond before its doubled face, and its four unmatched eyes peer out between the pinnate leaves. Its ruff erupts into palmetto, mimicking the leaves of its namesake. The killer and the killed, the eater and the eaten, existing in delightful amity forever and ever and ever.

Statistics

Traits: wise, strong, large, fast, resistant to mundane weaponry

Weakness: lazy, gluttonous, harmed by salt, silver, and holy water

Tactics

Disappear into and emerge from any two palm fronds in the Territory.

A Sphinx sequentially reveals its eyes to anyone who can see in the order that is most advantageous to it. Once it’s full face is revealed it may use any of its abilities at will.Reveal right human eye: Charms a person it can see into fighting for it

Reveal left human eye: makes a person bleed from their eyes, ears, nose, and mouth

Reveal the right panther eye: Terrifies a person it can see into fleeing

Reveal the left panther eye: Paralyzes a person it can see

Full face revealed: Anyone who sees it is gouged with invisible force as if with panther claws.!”

  

The Living are less modernist monsters: alligators, cutthroats, packs of wild dogs and rival exorcists, honestly you could go a long way with just these, especially the cutthroats and rivals, and if a party is small or wounded, the wild dogs.

The modernism and abstraction of some of the monsters and Greater Dead makes them excellent art pieces and good elements for a fancy horror movie, or for a written narrative, but perhaps a bit challenging to actually run.

Is this going to be another game/adventure where the flavour text promises encounters with impossible entities but the most fun you have is trying to escape a pack of angry dogs? Nothing wrong with that if it’s the case but…


Dissonance

There is a curious dissonance between the items, fictional structures, the imagined idea-space of the game, which is solid in conception and simple to relate, clear and interesting, and the decision-forming process of the rules of the game itself, which are very ‘Gauntlet-ey’ with lots of ‘just discuss it with your players’ and ‘the DM will inform you if you are in immediate danger of death’ which isn’t quite the same as a player choosing to do anything at all if they have only one HP left

Auto find soft salvage just for burning time looking in appropriate areas; not sure about this one.

Is this just another adaptation of the basic decision concept of Apocalypse World? Basically a quite soft conversational system. Same with Harm & death, very McDowallian, big on simple roles and clear communication of risk.

A foldable coracle in opening equipment, but we don’t know how hard or difficult travel will be (yet), but the ‘Car Problem’ from Urban RPGs might be a thing.

No list of names or likely surnames and no PC-relation chart instead you just talk about it. Honestly random PC connection stuff is something I like from Bakerish or McDowallian games.

This is probably because Sinjin itself is a synthesis of rules and concepts from the two main creators with a chunk of the ‘engine’ taken from here; 

The rules on pg 4-5, the For GM note on pg 10, and the Advancement rules on pg 14 are adapted from from 24XX CC BY Jason Tocci.”

 I have no idea who or what that is. Man I am out of the loop.


Art!

Its competent. Not my preferred style. Moody black and white photography. Pen and ink drawings. The individual art is good taken on its own terms! Just not my preference. (Obviously I like Scraps stuff).

‘Sinjin in colour’ would be a good call, especially considering the hallucinatory nature of reality as ‘depth’ increases .. and of course, Florida should be bright! More Florida Man energy! More Jorodowski less Ansel Adams!

The maps are competent and useful.


My Judgement

I like all of the parts of this and I find its elegance of conception and arrangement very pleasing.

I like the environment, which, in its details and processes seems drawn from life.

I like the worldbuilding through factions, items, foes and greater organisations which are honed to the point of interaction.

There are mild elements I would not disapprove of but perhaps question;

“There are many details we have elided or only gestured at, most significantly the precise nature of the disaster that created the Territory and the way to mend the damage it has caused. This can be an unresolvable mystery or the primary goal of the players.”

Hhnnn the disembodied spirit of Jason Cordova rises in the shadows cackling mysteriously. “Why the players decide!”

No! Get they behind me thou serpent!

If there is a chance the game could be an investigative one about a big central mystery then the policy of feeding off the players improv & feeding it back to them is one I don’t really like. Its ok in a soap opera like AW but fake investigations only really work if people can all intuit they are fake investigating to tell the story of the investigation and this is not fun for me. If a big mystery is part of the game there should be an Actual Truth and clues and layers of shit to finding out what it is.)

The Gypsy child feels slightly awkward to me. Wil they fulfil their destiny & save the manor with their honest heart or end up baked and syphilitic in an opium den? YOU decide of course! By purchasing and playing Sinjin! Available HERE!!!!

 

 

Wednesday, 14 August 2013

Or Another Of Your Own Creation



The expected market for Vincent Baker's 'The Seclusium of Orphone' is (Choose 2 or 3)

  1. People in the OSR who like posh books and can choke down dodgy design choices.
  2. Those on old White Wolf forums who know who Jack Vance is.
  3. People who don't roll their eyes at the use of the phrase 'Stormy Eyes'.
  4. People with LOTS of free time before games.
  5. People who really enjoy drawing their own detailed maps for a product they just bought.
  6. That guy who thinks Baker is part of a conspiracy to destroy gaming by perving it up.
  7. People who would quite like access to alleged above conspiracy
  8. People who own d7's.
  9. Those people who used to be the forge but I think they're storygames now?
  10. A strange new circle of people who may slowly crystallise around the book over time, it being neither one thing nor another, it may generate it's own subgenre. Vornheim might so this might.
  11.  Basically nice people who want a go at being 'dark' and 'edgy' in controlled circumstances.
  12. Maybe literary people? the tables being fucked makes it look less like a game, so people too up themselves to read Vornheim might potentially read this and think they've discovered and whole new thing and get all up on the lit blogs with it. Could there be an article in Forbes? Gasp.
The first parts of the book were designed; (Choose 1 or more)

  1. For those who like random tables, but not 'too' random.
  2. Specifically to irritate a small circle of OSR bloggers.
  3. For people who would rather put one egg in a pre-bought mix and call it cooking, instead of buying a pre-made pie or cooking it from scratch.
  4. To maximise the pleasure of flipping back and forth in a hardback book. Endlessly.
  5. Not to scare hippies.
  6. To maximise white space.
  7. To show off the cool flower designs on the paper stock.
  8. Because if you can't cram pseudo-magical glyph designs into an rpg book any more then we may as well burn down the whole enterprise and go home.
  9. Because we paid for a special font for the chapter headings and were damn well using it.
  10. Badly.
  11. Cryptically.
  12. Mysteriously.
  13. To annoy people who know the last three options are all true but they can only pick one. (OR ANOTHER OF YOUR OWN CREATION)
  14. Because its a book of random tables, so if you just give people the tables and a fully completed Seclusium with a fucking map they can use straight away they will feel robbed somehow?
  15. To keep the scum out.
  16. To instill wisdom in the reader through suffering, so they have the self knowledge to fully appreciate the good stuff at the back by the time they get there.

 The lists in Seclusium contain; (... and choose 2-4)

  1. Useful things
  2. Good things artfully seperated to ensure maximum flipping back and forth.
  3. Pretentious things
  4. Many things neither 'boring and useful' or 'poetic and energetic' but a strange blur between the two.
  5. Many cases where it would be better if you just used all of the available choices.
  6. Awkward numbering.
  7. Reassuring repetitions of the statement that you can choose or create your own thing, presumably because some fucking idiot somewhere wrote a blog or forum post saying 'this product does not explicitly tell me I can think for myself while using it? How them am I to know if I may do so???'
  8. A lot of good stuff.
  9. Some really interesting rules for magic item creation.
  10. A lot of Bakerism's if you are (choose 1 or 2) into/offended by/amused by/vaguely reassured by them
  11. Some good monster motivations.
The house rules at the back are; (choose as many as apply)

  1. Effectively a whole new game.
  2. Better than Dungeon World.
  3. Lacking options for clerics.
  4. The best use for the soft stats I've seen yet.
  5. How I should have been DM'ing already.

Saturday, 2 June 2012

Complex Theory, meet Mundane Reality


"What defines the depth, background and consistency of your invented world?"

The weight of things I can carry in my bag. About three to five kilos back and forth to the Nerd Cafe is the most I can move without it becoming a stress.

(A factor in moving away from 4th is that the books just physically weigh too much.)

So, two LOTFP rulebooks, Realms of Crawling Chaos, Vornheim, Isle of the Unknown, a folder of one page dungeons and info to tie it all together. Dice, many many pencils and a bottle of water. If it doesn’t fit in there then it probably wont be forming a firm part of the game background.

"So if you dropped the water bottle and took something else then the world could become more dense by a measurable extent?"

Yes, but that leads to another problem. Energy levels.

"Explain"

The extent to which I can connect different parts of these sources as meaningful aspects of the living game depends on my state of mind as the game is being played. This is affected by the amount of food I have eaten and how recently, how thirsty I am, how much caffeine I've consumed and where I am on my depressed/maniacal cycle.

Caffeine makes me more aggressive and intent, for about half an hour, then leaves me more isolated and lethargic. Then I need to go to the toilet. I'm pretty sure Mountain Dew got more than one character killed when I was playing Cyberpunk. So when I was MC'ing Apocalypse World games would peak in violence and danger as I got caffeinated, then undergo a period of distance and ennui, then break for 5 mins while I went for a piss. Like a Michael Bay film turning into a Werner Herzog film, then just stopping for no reason.

I try to moderate my caffeine intake to ride this wave.

Being hungry makes me monomaniacal and emotional. Emotional in a bad way, like a 13 year old girl who had a birthday party and no-one came. Never DM hungry. Gives you decision fatigue. (Though sometimes the impaired self-regulation can lead you interesting places.

What about the weird shit that comes out when you run out of stuff to say and just start free-styling?”

Some of that comes from stuff I daydream about at work. So if the flow of calls at Argos is low then the game should have more colour and original incident. If its high then the game gets more derivative. Other stuff is fragments of books I'm reading. Like Werner Herzog is the grand Duke of the Isle of the Unknown because I was reading an autobiography when I was putting together the tables. Other stuff is just from dreams or the silent moments between events.

When does the Quantum Ogre come out?”

Good question. When does stuff get moved around behind the scenes? Only if it can happen so quickly that even I can't think about it. Two or possibly three seconds from conception to statement. Something else I noticed MC'ing Apocalypse World is that if you invent something very quickly and as part of a rapid interaction with one or more players then it doesn’t feel* like railroading.

The same thing goes for reincorporating stuff that’s already in the game, or that came up in tables but that the players don't know about. So one of the random NPC relationship tables is Scrodd, a place the PC's are visiting, came up that one NPC wanted to consume another one. This made no sense to me. But then one of the players used the word 'vampire' and I remembered a dungeon I have with a vampire in it. So it became part of the game. It happened very quickly. It didn't feel like making something happen, it felt like discovering something or allowing something. Iain Mcgilchrist has a lot to say about that sort of thing.

But if you think for longer than about 3 seconds, the nature of the choice seems to change. Almost as if different parts of the mind were coming online and trying to assume control of the situation. Forcing it to make sense in a different way.

The nice thing about dice is that they are a kind of gateway between the parts of you that hunger for control and want everything to be logically consistent and the parts of you that love to abandon control and experience new and inconsistent things. So the whole thing becomes a kind of continuous tennis match between the different parts of yourself, and more than the parts that make it up.

A DM gets to make more of those kind of choices than players which might be why a good game leaves me with a vaguely ecstatic feeling.

How do you know if you are fucking the players out of a meaningful choice?”

I actually don't know. I believe that I'm not. But I wouldn't win a public debate with myself on the issue. I trust to the silent parts of my mind to arrange the patterns so that they remain true to themselves

*Cue Nerdstorm. Man obeys feelings. Betrays REALITY.

Wednesday, 22 February 2012

Dawn Guard

I read bits and pieces of Unknown Armies, I also read a review of the Ghost Dog RPG.

The Ghost Dog RPG was published by a small company that went bust some time ago. You can't get it in the UK. You can only get it secondhand in the US. because I will never see a copy I have to imagine what it would be like. (incidentally the guys who made the Ghost Dog RPG only had a poor VHS copy of the film to view before they created the RPG, further increasing the rashamon-type decay-of-memory-as-creation aspect of the whole thing.)

I saw someone on the Internet talking about their favourite poem, which has the Dawn, and this made me think of my favourite poem. John Donne's 'On The Sun Rising'. Which is also about the dawn.

And this is the distantly envisioned crypto-culture RPG I imagined:

Powers rule the night, powers rule the day. But in the brief span between night and day there is an unseen anarchy. Who guards the Dawn?

You do.




Between the first light hazing the sky and the moment the suns disc clears the horizon, you and a bunch of other low level mediocrities are all that stands between the world and undreamed-of horror.


In you normal lives you are irrelevant nobodies, the world's geography teachers, tax adjusters, binmen. But for an hour and a half at the beginning of each day you are heros. With nothing more than a few stolen tricks, some scratched-together firepower and your own two hands.

No-one can ever know.


Play would observe the unity of time and space, play for an hour, you survive for an hour, time would be described using my advanced marvel superhero rules, in panels, pages and issues.


Lonely, brave nobodies hunting the empty streets of cities, revolver in one hand, poetry and comics clutched in the other. The light is always grey and diffuse, time is always running out. The more you can see the worse things are. Get it done and save the people before they fill the streets with work and in their ignorance, damn themselves.


Allies? Only people too drunk, drugged, lost, lonely or weird to fit into the normal world. Ever been high or drunk all day and felt things slipped into a different sort of space around dawn? Or that things can happen then which couldn't happen any other time? This is why. You probably forgot the really strange shit you saw, you probably thought it was a dream or a corrupted memory. 

It was all real. They are still out there, every morning. Fighting to keep you safe. Thank god you're asleep.

Storygame fight mechanic

Choose to win or lose the fight.
If you choose to win, I describe what you sacrife to do it.
If you choose to lose, you describe what you gain from failure.
Add dice if uncertain.

Saturday, 12 November 2011

Cyberpunk 2013

Less drunk now.

There is a quasi-random generation system. That is sort-of good. Like all divisions between random-roll and points-buy it feels like an uncomfortable child in a darkened room. The door a slant open, a yellow bar of light from the hall outside. Too scared to close the door, too ashamed to turn on the lights. Trapped between things.

There is a skill list. Not sure how I feel about that. If you don't know the game already then choosing skills is a hopeful grasp towards the kind of game you hope it'll be. But it might not be the kind of game it is, or will be. And there you are trapped in the dark future with your Dinosaur-hunting skill and fuck all to do.

Improving in skills looks like it takes fucking ages and its totally under the control of the GM. You can train yourself and be taught in-game but the rules for this are highly conservative. So, right now, it looks like the energy of the game is going to be generated between the almost-story-game encouragement of flair and style in the colour and the dark-bastard plan-or-you're-dead, “no you can't, you don't have the skill” have-you-been counting-your-ammo? mechanics.

The game tells you to play like a carefree cheeky bastard, the mechanic kills you if you do this. If this generates interest then it is a good game. If it simply annoys then it is not.

Resolution is based around 'tasks', so the GM has to go through the whole fucking world and try to decide how difficult everything is.

Story-game hippy bullshit I would to with this.

  • Only self-created skills, start at zero or one. Advance like Mouse Guard when you have one success and one fail in each skill.
  • Let players set their own difficulty level for tasks. If they set low and win, they get fuck all. If they set high then they get x-tra cool. (Not sure how this would actually work.

'You must roll lower than your education chance on 1D10 to enter the school of hard knocks' aaand I'm back in love with it. (And drinking again)

The lifepath tables are very cool. The enemies table has two nested sub-tables, the friends table is all on its own. The romance table has a tragedy sub table. The personal disaster table has more detail and is larger than any of the others. This tells you something about human nature. Or at least how we think about human nature.

But there is no table to link the players to each other! Why not?

I will do two things. I will create a lifepath thing to connect the characters to each other and I will add sub-tables to the friendship table. I will lend energy and creative power to the force of fictional friendship and thence bring balance to Cyberpunk.

I SHALL NOT BLOG AGAIN TILL TIS DONE!

NO-ONE CARES BECAUSE NO-ONE READS THE BLOOOOOGGG!

Sunday, 9 October 2011

Gamist Fighter, Narrativist Wizard

I MC'd Apocalypse World and I really liked it. And I like D&D. I like mixing things. Cereal, sandwich filling, everything really.

But I'm not the first person to have that idea. Seems that almost everyone who has played Apocalypse World has immediately felt like taking it apart and putting it together as something else. It's a beautiful thing that comes apart in your hands like Lego.

I want to know what happens when each player in a game occupies the same imaginative space but relates to the GM in a different way.

So this is my idea. The fighter is gamist, they act under total player control and move through the Gm created space like a D&D character. Everything is already there, the player just has to decide how to interact with it.

The wizard is narrativist. The makers of the AW hack Dungeon World decided on a spell list. I found this a bit uninteresting. There is no reason to regiment and organise magic in something derived from a story game. With the right set of questions the risks of magic could always be equivalent to the rewards.

This is my suggested replacement for every D&D spell list ever.

You cast a spell. Name it, describe it and give your intended effect. Roll 2D6 plus your intelligence bonus. On a 10+ chose 3 on 7-9 choose 2.

  • There is very little blow-back.
  • It has roughly the intended effect.
  • Nothing unbelievably weird happens.
  • There is no damage to your memory.

There are no spell books. There are no lists of spells. The effects of magic are chaotic and the effects of a narrativist choice system impinging on a D&D game are the effects of the strange otherness of magic slipping into an ordered world.

Changing levels wouldn't result in spells of higher power since the power level is effectively infinite, if you are willing to risk the consequences. Instead, other levels give access to a different character of choice.

The players are in a different kind of conversation with the DM. The magic user is in a constant river of mutual contest and co-operation, a bit like Apocalypse World, the fighter is more challenge-and-response, like a game of D&D. The magic user appears to have more power, but they also have to surrender, or exchange, control of their character in ways the fighter doesn't. I imagine the fighter forming a kind of island of narrative stability, with less apparent power to shape events, but more self-contained and affecting the story persistently over the long-term.

I really want to see how these two kinds of system interact, or if they can interact.

I'm also considering some kind of intermediate class like the LOTFP specialist, using the Burning Wheel skill system and resolution method.