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August 22nd, 2008
I’m talking about the ways-of-interfacing-with-games (1, 2) because I have, on and off, been hacking many existing published storygames that I have enjoyed, but will not always work successfully for me, and sometimes won’t work at all for people I want to play with. This is frustrating because I remember the calls for truly “portable fun”, with all the necessary rules in the book itself; it’s clear there are still many cultures of practice and unwritten rules in the books on my shelf, and this is unavoidable.
DevP |
Games in Progress |
August 22nd, 2008
Let me talk about some ways to play Dogs in the Vineyard wrong (or right), and why I think someone might be making that choice. (Familiarity with the rules will help.) I think I am trying to describe some of the major disconnects that happen in a certain style of game with different styles of players, and why that is.
(EDIT: See also my older post on “Game Modes”, another look at how we interface with our decision-making process in games.)
“I’m a Watchdog, 5d10.” Here we have a player who has been using all their experience-bonuses towards building up a single trait, which in just about universally applicable. (As opposed to what seems to be the expected behavior, to have a diversity of traits with different meanings attached.) Why: Because the player is seeking their character’s goals, and seeking effective means of getting those goals. This is a plainly legal move; it does not distort the fiction.
”...and I wave my skillet at them for emphasis! 1d6.” Someone has some cooking gear listed on their character sheet, for some reason – maybe they’re care deeply about being the camp’s cook – and they’re shoving it into their narration here, probably along with some other traits. They may have been going down their list, looking for dice to add. Why: They’re pursuing their character’s goals, and that extra die will give them some extra effectiveness. They look for a bonus, find it, then justify it.
“I’m from Back East, 3d4.” Scenario 1: I’ve consciously built a social trait like this so I can use it to get Social Fallout, because that kind of fallout is basically safe and can generate new traits and experience. Why: I want to establish more means of achieving my character’s goals.
Scenario 2: I want to see some trouble. This is a “bad trait” in some ways, and I’m willing to push it in because I want to see what happens when I get into mechanical trouble.
“Wow, I can’t believe you did that! I don’t want to escalate now… I may have dice still, but I’ll fold.” Scenario 1: Socially rewarding a very strong Raise by the other party. Scenario 2: shortening a long scene, or recognizing that a scene has run its fictional course.
Scenario 3: I’m making a fictional choice here, where my value of one fictional fact (the stakes) is worth less to me than another (the value of not escalating further / fighting on).
“Of course I’ll escalate. I still want to win.” Scenario 1: I’m seeking a win, and I want to raise more dice. “Escalation” requires taking a single action with more dangerous fallout attached for the foe, but I can avoid doing lasting harm if I’m careful with the use of dice.
Scenario 2: Fictional choice: value of the stakes is more than the value of the cost of escalating.
Possible Conclusions
So what’s the order in which a player is evaluating their choices? What model are they using for judging an outcome? Some possibilities.
(1) Effectiveness. I want the stakes, I seek legal and effective means, and once I pick them I justify them within the fiction.
(2) Blind fiction. I want the stakes, I consider my fictional options (roughly: “what my character would do”), pick the legal move that matches my fictional sense, and watch the mechanically derived outcome.
(3) Weighted fiction. I want the stakes, I consider my fictional options, I use mechanical knowledge to adjust my fictional sense of things (i.e. if I would reasonably talk (1d4) or fight (1d8), my character should intuitively feel more assured of victory in the latter case).
(4) Alternative fictional goal. I want some fictional goal other than the stakes. (Like: displaying some character arc, creating dramatic tension, building up some aesthetics). I pick a legal choice in pursuit of the fictional goal, justify it in terms of the stakes the character wants. I watch the derived outcome, but I’m more invested in my own goal.
(5) Meta goal. I want some mechanical goal other than the stakes. (Like: getting XP or fallout.) I pick choices on a mechanical basis that will give me what I want, and make sure to justify these choices in the fiction and how to they work with the stakes my character is wanting. I watch the derived outcome, but I’m more invested in my own goal. (EDIT: In the comments, Tommi suggested social goals as a subset of meta goals. Social goals are another great example.)
What I’m Trying To Say Here
How do you decide what you should be doing? What’s important and meaningful? Differences here lead to breakdown in gameplay. DitV is a game which often runs to ground (in my experience) when players are just seeking the stakes, but that’s not playing fundamentally wrong, because the rules are clear in that you should attempt to achieve the stakes. So “how to play” is some other subtle balance that I have a hard time communicating. At best, I can figure out whether someone intuitively gets / has absorbed how to work with the DitV ruleset, or determine if someone just cannot mesh with that.
DevP |
Ideas |
August 6th, 2008
John, in a possible preface for Geiger Counter, explains why players must be willing to “Push the Button”, sacrificing their character’s goals in the interests of delivering entertainment to the table. I like this a lot, because it describes some of my modes of play, and is a good pointer at the kind of aesthetics-driven simulation-of-genre game that I might be my favorite.
DevP |
Ideas |
July 13th, 2008
Continuing the dungeon jam, but taking I’m forking off to the side a bit. Consider this an alternate path; I’ll explain rules consequences at the end. (John: feel free to continue this thread or not.)
The First Campaign into the Svartelheim was only a partial success. Key routes to the underground were mapped, but ultimately treachery within the Campaign, combined with the unanticipated encroachment of the Goblins, led to a defeat. Those first few heroes now low entombed below.
The elder dwarves, along with some surviving heroes, are now mentoring the youngest dwarves who must now be the front line in retaking the Svartelheim. They are not as hardened to battle, but they are passionate. In secret, by night, they train in the warrior arts until they are ready to enter the vast Underground. Meanwhile, distant cousins, foreign dwarves, and even foolhardy non-dwarven adventurers arrive and seek the mentors at the Secret Academy.
Slowly, most students will fall to the horrors of the Underground, but some survive to become yet more wise and more skilled. And so it is known that the Svartelheim will be reclaimed. It may take a hundred years, it may well take a thousand, but – inch by inch – the great city will be liberated and brought back to life.
So, this is suggesting a game that starts at – initially – more low-power. It would be more suited for running with an old-school retro D&D ruleset, perhaps like “Castles & Crusades” or “Labyrinth Lord”.
DevP |
Ideas |
June 28th, 2008
Dungeon Jam continues.
Many adventurers will take the direct route through the barrows to the Royal Temple of Moradin, or at least close to it as they can manage. Or they may be forced to detour from that main path, but at many points throughout the Svartálfaheim, they will find temples to Moradin, long abandoned (and some would say forsaken). At any of these temples, they may not find true sanctuary but they will often find four sturdy walls with which to fortify their party. (Some young dwarves may refuse to say in these temples, as they blame the silent crafter god for the fall of the city.)
Take note of the craftsmanship in these temples: sometimes, encoded within, are secret instructions of where one must travel to find other temples, weaving a network of sanctuaries throughout the fallen city.
Sanctuary, in such a hostile environment, is a key element of survival, for there are many threats below that will strategically leave you no ground to fall back to.
DevP |
Games in Progress |
June 28th, 2008
I was catching up on old articles today, which recombined a few ideas nicely. For one thing: I was inspired to reread about “leading with the fiction” and also see the results so far of Levi’s Amagi Games project (where, among other things, he’s posting lots of rules modules to tweak your existing game). What I’m inspired to try some time is a nearly-freeform game, with using some of Levi’s structural hacks to provide just enough situation design and hand-holding. I’m also hoping I can learn from Brand’s advice on Pacing a Narrative Game – that stuff ain’t rules but it could easily be important, at least given where my current skills are.
DevP |
Ideas |
June 25th, 2008
Dungeon Jam continues.
There are those who believe the Skymind had the best interest of Svartálfar at heart; there are those that the atrocities of the fallen city may yet have prevent a further, unknowable cataclysm from taking place. Such heretics are the Skymind Redeemers.
Known only to themselves, they are a secret order among the surviving dwarves, and it is said that one of the original survivors is its spiritual leader. They share the same ultimate goal as the other heros – reconquering their lost city and liberating their brothers – but they also seek to uncover proof that there was some method behind the Skymind’s madness. They do not shun the ways of the Skymind, but instead hope to reform it, and train themselves as well in the ways of starlight (even if they are not warlocks themseles).
They also may benefit from congress and discussion with sympathetic ghosts trapped within the Svartálfaheim, but this raises a question: why? Are these innocent dwarven souls, caught in the crossfire and left in this purgatory awaiting redemption? Or are these merely tendrils of the corruption of the Grandchilde of Vecna?
Indeed, are these reedemers all simply marching to the forbidden beat of Vecna? There are those who think so, and there are those Redeemers who have met a lonely death in the caves for their heretical beliefs. All the more reason that those few, lonely redeemers will risk their lives to find proof of the Skymind’s wisdom – if any can be found.
DevP |
Ideas |
June 23rd, 2008
Dungeon Jam continues.
One of the great achievements of the Svartálfaheim engineers was to build a network of subterranean aquifers and aqueducts to send freshwater through the many levels and clusters within the great city. Enough water to survive on, to tend crops, to provide a home for the tigerfish and wildmako and sentapods and lighteels. Of course, the water stills flows, but access is impossible. It is unknown how much of the old infrastructure is in place.
The difficulty of entering through the Barrows are known, and so some of the wiser dwarves may suggest the old waterways as a means of access. Architectural records are seemingly lost, however. Could there be some scholar with access to a map of the fallen waterways? Or is there some other way to divine a path?
If the champions can find an access to the waterways, they may find easier access to the lower levels but they will find no rest from danger. The terrain will be cold, wet and dark: a poor environment for open battle. The waterways will have collapsed some regions, flooded others, and may otherwise leave a fast-flowing river that the heros will ahve to navigate. The wildmako and sentapods were never friendly, and it is whispered that worse things have risen alongside them.
DevP |
Ideas |
June 19th, 2008
JWalt has invited me to a dungeon jam. Indeed!
The Svartálfaheim was breached by corruption within and evil from beyond; the great city began to die, and the Wise Princess Chiria knew of this immediately. She felt it in her blood, and soon afterwards her scouts confirmed what she knew already. Crows circled the craggy land above the fallen city, glades of trees around them began to sicken and die, plumes of dark smoke creeped up from the dirt like an evening mist. She left immediately with her honor guard to visit the survivors.
Upon arrival, she asked the oldest: Who was responsible for this?
The dwarves were proud, even in mourning. They thanked her, but she could not possibly understand.
She shook her head. You do not understand! You are now bekte, the bloodline of a condemned people. It is vital I know who is responsible for this. Please.
But they were silent, and she was left no choice. She raised her sword and declared: I shall be your sovereign. I am now bekte, along with you, and I take responsibility for this grievous crime. This I swear with my life.
Many young dwarves lifted their blades against her, but she regretfully cut them down with a sword made of silver. To make amends, the Wise Princess directed the survivors to build the Watchtowers, which would stand among the Dwarven settlements, beacons of the Elven nation amongst a fallen people.
So it was that Elven adventurers have lived among the dwarves, overseeing the activities of the old families, and removing those who would lead the bekte wayward again. None doubt the adventurers’ loyalty; though it is also said that some seek only to enrich themselves from dwarven knowledge and art, and others seek life among the dwarves as a refuge from the Elven ways, and still others seek out allies for some nefarious purpose. May the Wise Princess preserve us from their aims.
DevP |
Ideas |
April 5th, 2008
Here’s a story / example of play from my Mage/Tarot hack. The story is a little dry here, but I’m mainly trying to demonstrate how a character would be defined, and what the mechanics would look like in practice. Note that there exists a mapping of Tarot Arcana to fictional elements in Mage. Also, the deck is divided into a Skill Deck (A-10) and an Influence Deck (Court Cards + Trumps).
The mage known as “Badger” was once a coach and aspiring professional athlete. (His uncompromising athletic regimen and practice may have put him on the path to awakening.) He follows the Path of Thrysus, and is a new member of the Adamantine Arrow. He uses his magic to affect Life, Time and Space. Traits: Athlete, Leader, Vice (Pride), Connection (Abrax, a Free Council mage).
The kicker: a late night call from Abrax. “You’ve got to get to the ER, right away. Our sanctum got attacked, and the rest of my cabal are dead or dying. Someone’s try to get to both of us.”
...Badger arrives to Abrax raving. “It has to be magic. The house literally crashing down around us, like it had rotted away within a matter of minutes.” Badger activates “Mage Sight: Life”. Immediately, he sees a some magically induced miasma within Abrax, causing him a hacking cough and worse. Will this magic strike down his friend, as well?
(He begins a spell: infusing Abrax’s body with Life magic to chase off the curse. He uses his Life and Gnosis traits to improvise a spell, providing a combined total of +3. He spends 2 mana and 1 willpower, providing another +3. He draws from the Skill deck: A of Cups. Five influence cards are drawn: 2 for the vulgar spell and 3 for the spent mana and willpower. Only one of the influence cards matches: Earth, representing the Free Council and the attempt to save Abrax’s life. This provides another +5. The total is 3 + 3 + 1 + 5 = 12. This is higher than the difficulty, so Abrax is healed.)
...Later, Badger argues to his cabal-mate, Fitz, that they must join forces to investigate the threat to Abarax’s cabal. Fitz is much more concerned without their cabal’s dwindling finances. “As an Arrow, your here to protect us, first and foremost. Your priorities are messed up, Badger.”
(Badger attempts to sway the cabal’s opinion. Fitz’s effort establishes a difficulty of 8. Badger uses Leadership for a +2, spends a willpower for +1, and draws a 5 of wands. This adds up to an eight; but he then draws an Influence Card for the use of Willpower. He draws “The Hierophant”, symbol of Fitz’s order, the Silver Ladder: that’s a -5 to Badger’s side. He loses, and the cabal refuses to help. Badger is on his own now. Despite the defeat, the player chooses to do the final narration, tying together all the suits and symbols in play now; he emphasizes Fitz’s tyrannical nature and his overly orthodox notion of what the cabal “should” do. Badger is rewards with recovering 1 point of Mana.)
...Later, Badger follows a tip and tracks the mysterious “librarian”. The librarian recognizes Badger immediately. He drops his book, and with a gesture, Badgers mind is flooded with static.
(Badger is trying to counter his opponent’s magic with his own. He gets +3 for Mind and Gnosis, and draws a 4 of Wands: a 7, vs his opponent’s total of 12. But, given all the magic flying around, five influence cards are drawn: “The Hanged Man” grants a +5 to the librarian’s side, but “The Moon” and “Knight of Wands” grant a +10 to Badger. He wins, and counters the librarian’s spell. Badger weights his option: engage in magical battle with such a powerful mage? Or draw his empty revolver, and try his luck with a bluff?)
DevP |
Games in Progress |