Here’s some rambling about where I’m directing my thinking on topics of interest to this blog.
I’ve got a few things I intend to write about – quest mechanics, rule modularity so far. Are there any topics you would like to have me cover?
One of these days, I’m going to give in and make a giant spreadsheet that correlates each motif or lyrical/melodic callback with the songs they appear in. That music is dense with it – most musicals will satisfy themselves with a reprise or (gasp) two in the second half, maybe a nice overture so everyone knows the important melodies. Hamilton is quoting itself almost as quickly as it’s off and running (and it takes off at a sprint).
What can magic do? Anything? What, then, can any given magic-user do? Everything?
Any fantasy RPG that puts magic in has to answer that question. The above, by the way, are wrong answers.
This has happened often enough: The adventurers breach the door. The hulking whatever (it never really matters, does it?) sitting around in the room bellows, and charges the first poor fool who sticks his head in, and the whole encounter is fought out inside a doorway.
In my experience, this was a common failure mode for 4e fights, but I’ve seen it in zone-based systems as well (namely: my own). Getting bogged down into a state where there’s a whole map and nobody’s using it because everyone’s trapped in a bottleneck is not fun.
How do we avoid this? The trite answer is “don’t draw bottlenecks” and while it’s not wrong, I think it’s incomplete. For starters, sometimes holding a choke point can be tactically useful, or dramatic, or whatever you’re aiming for. It’s a problem not when it’s there, but when there’s really nowhere else.
Here are some things that I think might help combat map design:
- Prep maps ahead of time. This is straightforward if you’re working from pre-written material, but I tend to work by the seat of my pants, and so when combat begins I start free-handing the space on a whiteboard. It would be a better idea to think about the kind of areas that we’re going to be exploring in a given session, and imagine what kinds of spaces might get involved in a fight, then work out a basic map up front, and then tweak it to fit the situation if a fight actually starts.
What this solves: Being put on the spot and having to put something out there, then discovering that it’s not working like you envisioned.
- Center the map on the action. If the players start in one corner, and the monsters start right up the hall, or just inside the door, then the action is never going to leave that corner of the map. Instead, bring the starting positions well inside the map – either starting all the actors in the center, or having the middle of the map be the middle ground between their positions.
What this solves: Being in the middle frees up options (advance, retreat, circle around), which means it gives players more chances to make decisions, which means it’s more engaging to play. Practically speaking, being at the edge of the map leaves you with nowhere to go – either because in the fiction there’s nowhere else, or as an item of play it would involve shifting a lot of stuff around and redrawing to fit the new area in, which slows play.
- Give the actors room to fall back. A corollary to item 1, and a useful way to make the fight more dynamic, a side in a fight with a way to fall back can always find a reason to fall back, and now the other side has to respond to a change in a tactical situation. Fun!
What this solves: When the decision to fall back is available to all the parties in a fight, it means one side can take advantage of it, and force the other to start moving as well. This gives you options as a GM and as a player. It’s much easier to force your enemy to follow you than it is to drive them before you.
- Put interesting things in zones. It doesn’t have to be every zone, and it doesn’t have to be every fight, and you don’t have to design clever mechanics for each possible thing. Even if a game doesn’t have aspects, Fate gives the right advice: describe enough of what’s in any given space for the players to interact with, and make interacting with the environment a viable option for expending part of a character’s action economy.
What this solves: Mix up a hit-hit-hit slog with reasons to move someplace, reasons to stay someplace, and reasons to make actions other than attack rolls (preferably without punishing that decision).
- Put interesting relationships between zones. Getting up the slope requires a check, or a full action. In a castle, being on the stairs above the enemy puts the defender at an advantage. From a hilltop, you can fire down more effectively on the monsters as they advance.
What this solves: Another incentive to force movement, but that works mostly to the advantage of anyone with a ranged attack (unless a zone makes for a good defensive position). This is another way of motivating combatants to move to and contest important ground.
Let’s imagine that I bothered to fish through Art of War to find some clever quote (see: stapling self to greatness); there are plenty that apply.
Any costumed super hero telling a story about protecting the city from crime is on a Bindings arc, and when they quickly change into costume, they’re taking advantage of Renegade 0.
As a corollary, I missed a prime opportunity to have the Reluctant Boy Detective be the Reluctant Masked Boy Detective. I was drawing from Hyouka as my main reference, and foolishly left Tuxedo Kamen out.
Everything should be made as simple as possible, but not simpler.
What writing on complexity would be complete without such a trite lead-in as above? Indeed, I am hard-pressed to think of any pretense to sagacity that would omit such a cute extract, that would disavow stapling oneself to the coattails of other, greater, thinkers with a blockquote and an unresearched attribution. Let it never be said that I disregard the proper forms!
It took me a long time to formulate this exact idea, but it was true since I first had a rulebook – each roleplaying game is really two games: the more obvious one is the game that actually gets played around a table; but the second is creating characters. I spent many hours building characters that I would never play, in all kinds of systems.
There can be a remarkable amount of complexity in creating a character. This is part of the fun of the game, but it can also be a drag – the more options to weigh, and the more complex interactions between them, the more that analysis paralysis can make me unhappy with the minigame. I like having a few, meaningfully distinct choices. I like not having traps waiting to punish low system mastery. I like not having the specifics over-prescribed (reskinning is a wonderful technique, but merits a discussion all on its own).
As an exercise, let’s walk through character creation in a few systems. Read more
One reason to start a blog is to take a jumble of things inside a head (preferably one’s own, but there are always circumstances), hammer them into some kind of order that will be embarrassing to look back on, and then broadcast them into the ether for zero or more people to consume. One category of ideas I want to organize are the ones around designing a tabletop role-playing game.
I’ve been asked before why I’m designing a game, and what I’m trying to get out of the experience, or what specific purpose the game is supposed to suit. I’ve never had a good elevator pitch answer to this. Instead, I would ramble about what I wanted, or mostly what I didn’t want. The game has become its own creature, but a refined motivation can help keep the game true to what it’s meant to be.
With this in mind, here are the things I look to when thinking about how the game should play. Read more