Fudging Dice

Before we get started, a couple of announcements. First, you should head over to my MoSpace and support Movember if you haven't already. Donate now, and decide what silly thing I do with my moustache for the last week of November. Details are here. Also, over the next month I'm going to be migrating the blog to a new domain, so there might be a bit of downtime. You'll have to update your bookmarks and your rss, and I'll be putting an automatic forward here just in case. I'll keep you posted here, and you can find updates on my Twitter. Now, on to fudging dice.

Safe Space, A How To

Last week I talked about why safe space is important at the gaming table because it helps encourage creativity and comfort, both of which are things that make a game more fun. It can also be used to add depth to a game and present more poignant moral challenges and choices. What I didn't talk about was how we can go about creating that kind of space at the gaming table. It can be challenging, especially with a new group or a group which isn't used to thinking about things in that way. It's important to recognize that there's going to be an adjustment period, but overall I think you'll agree that a game in a safe space is better than a game not in one. Most of the information here is pulled from the GLSEN "Guide to Being an Ally", a kit meant for educators looking to establish safe space for LGBT youth, and tuned for the gaming audience. If you're looking for more information than I provide here, I recommend downloading the .pdf, and if you're interested in establishing safe space at your local schools, I recommend it as a guide. What's more important than safe space at the gaming table is safe space for our youth.

Goals, Part 2

Last week I talked about the different kinds of goals we have in games, with a focus on D&D. But not all goals are created equal. There are kinds of goals which don't necessarily take into consideration the interests of other players, or which cut off opportunities rather than creating them. I want to outline what I think some of these kinds of goals are. I also want to take the time to look at why, although they could be reasonable goals in certain settings, they're not constructive for a co-operative role playing game like D&D.

Scope

Pete the Pirate pines to perpetuate a peck of piracy amid a pack of poorer places. This means that Pete the Pirate needs to buy a pirate ship, hire a crew, and commence some serious piracy. Gary Gnome gaily grants that it's his goal to get great gobs of glittering gold, garnets, and gum, by giving and getting in the great game of trade. Building an intercontinental merchant network means that he has to muster capital, travel to various places inland and across the sea, hire associates, and make friends. Walter Warblade wishes he was a worthy warrior; weary of his woad he wants a wicked whip and wightskin armor to wear while working as a worldly warrior-king. To do this, he might need to find a special craftsman, earn a kingdom, and certainly slay a wight or two. Each of their character goals seems perfectly reasonable. However, there's only one problem. They're all in the same adventuring party. Pursuing their goals (which are all very interesting) means either breaking up the party or convincing the rest of the party to go along with one set of goals (and abandoning their own). Goals with a problem of scope then, are character goals which become game goals without the consent of the rest of the group. And that includes the GM. In an aquatic game, the entire party making sure they're amphibious and abandoning the water for an adventure on land can be interesting, but places the GM at the mercy of their goals. Ideally, no one ought to be at the mercy of the game goals of another, because doing so pushes them into a game that they didn't buy into, and aren't interested in, hence the necessity for compromise.

Level Gaining

Some goals are harder to express in a game like D&D. For example, le Gimli wishes to master the ability of making a flurry of blade attacks in a few seconds. That's neat, but it makes for a bad character goal, because it's basically a statement that involves gaining levels. Gaining levels is already a metagame goal that is assumed in D&D. You could have a fun D&D game in which no one gains levels, but it'd be the exception, rather than the norm. Furthermore, there is nothing specific that le Gimli could do to achieve that goal. It demands a general result, because the rewards aren't based on in-game advancement. It doesn't motivate. A better way to state goals like this might be to work toward some kind of in-game achievement, whether that's being high priest, pokemon master, or world quidditch champion. These things allow for progressive results, and motivate a character toward some specific pursuit, whether that's doing services for the church, seeking out other pokemon trainers around the world to challenge them, or playing a fucktonne of quidditch in a league.

Consumption

While a character is the sum of his goals, goals ought not to be the sum of a character. While it's interesting in a literary sense to have a character who is utterly consumed by his need for a single goal (such as Ahab or Arthas), or to interact with such an individual, it is exceedingly difficult to BE such a person in a cooperative game. Both Ahab and Arthas caused incredible grief to those around them, eventually alienating everyone, and ultimately coming to a bad end. Similar to the evil character in this respect, the consumed character has an expiry date, though instead of betrayal and death, it's usually more to the tune of a fierce argument and someone storming off.

Too Few

How many goals are too few? The simple answer is when there aren't enough of them. Think of how many goals you have, long term and short term, whether they're graduating, finding a job, or just surviving the day. It's more important to think of them in terms of the categories. You can't even play the game without metagame goals, so none isn't an option, but one or two doesn't seem like enough to declare intent with a character. Game goals on the other hand, seem more likely to be sparse, as they involve negotiation with all of the people involved, but again, having none or only one or two seems inadequate, because ideally you do want to shape the game. Character goals are either the hardest or easiest to come up with, but they're also the most pivotal and the most personal. None means that a character has no meaningful desires. One means that theirs is all-consuming, be it the lust for power or the desire for ice cream. Two makes one bipolar in a way. For these, it appears that frankly, the more the merrier.

Too Many

In talking about too few, we must also talk about too many. How many is too many? When there's too many. When goals stop becoming manageable, conflict with each other in ways that aren't interesting, or are taken up and discarded willy-nilly. What's the point of aspiring to something if, next week, it's gone? There's certainly room for a dilettante character, but a dilettante's goals are synergized by their desire to have more goals than average. Too many metagame goals often result in a jack of all trades who's really a jack of no trades. The consequence of too many game goals is perpetual boredom or a game full of pirate/prince/mountaineers where the whole scope of the game changes every week. And too many character goals usually just means that none of them can be accomplished, since all of them ought to be pursued. Part of the joy of playing D&D is playing people whose lives are somewhat less complicated than our own, with all of our goal-related madness.

Following the Story

Going along with the story is not a goal worth having. Flat out. It's a denial of agency, and a commitment of a willingness to be entertained rather than an investment in participating in the game. If someone just wants to go along with the story, they should probably go play a videogame. Read a choose-your-own-adventure book, or just read a regular book. The point of a cooperative game isn't to go along with the story, but to create the story. Even in a linear campaign which limits the scope of the players' decisions, there are still decisions to be made. Just like D&D isn't about one single character, it's also not about the GM's vision of a tale of epic fantasy. If you're interested in that tale, just ask to hear it sometime, instead of presenting the illusion of participating in it. This isn't to say that there isn't some sort of buy in required, that's what game goals are for, but just going along with the game goals isn't playing the game. In a game about tactical, strategic, and dramatic decision making, the story follower has chosen to be a spectator.

A key thing to remember about the above goal strategies is that they're not always bad in every way. In various mediums, they make for excellent goals. But in the context of a cooperative action/adventure roleplaying game, they don't always work very well, though even then, they can be made to work with the right leverage.

On Achievement 

This is the most important thing about goals. I like the S.M.A.R.T. guidelines, but there's other ones, and if they're followed, then goals are going to be attainable. This means that you have to think about what happens when you get what you want. This isn't forty years ago, where the dreams of player characters are merely things to be crushed underfoot by the traps and monsters of a cackling dungeon master. These things are doable, and there are consequences for doing them. Furthermore, they are victory conditions. When you achieve them, you are winning at D&D. In some cases, they represent actual victory conditions, because they lead to a character retiring (which is an expiry date, but not necessarily a bad one because ideally the goal will be very long term and represented in many stages). More likely, they lead to the acquiring of more goals, which takes you back to last week.

There's a lot that can be said about goals and the nature of them, and it's something I'll definitely come back to, but I think this is a good foundation from which to work. What do you think? How do you handle these kinds of goals and work with players to make them constructive?

At My Table: We Think About Roles

I think everybody's thinking about roles in some way or another when they come to the table. But how we think about roles is going to be as important as what we think about them. Today I want to start by talking about how I encourage people to think about them and why I do that, and over the next few weeks I'll talk about how roles work in some other games, and whether they work well or not. 4th Edition D&D focuses on roles, and I'm definitely going to talk about that next week, once we get through what roles mean.

D&D Goals

Every time I start a D&D game, I ask for some goals related to the characters involved. Sometimes I get some. Sometimes I get a lot. D&D doesn't include a lot of character development in the process, like Burning Wheel or Spirit of the Century do, so I think it's important to add that in. For the next couple of weeks, I'm going to talk about goals for players in D&D and D&Desque games explicitly, what kinds there are, why they matter, and some of the goals which fall short of that kind of game. 

GM Style Overview

So over the last three weeks I've looked at three different styles of GMing, Linear, Semi-linear, and Sandbox. I thought it'd be good to do an overview and directly compare them. The real question, of course, is which one is best? And that's a complicated one to answer, because they're good for different things. I also want to try and illustrate what they're like a bit better by using example of video games which execute these styles particularly well. If you haven't played these games, I highly recommend them. So let's get right to it.

Sandbox GMing

The time has come for the third and last of my GMing style posts, and this one's a doozy. the first thing that I have to admit is that I'm a sandbox cheerleader. I like it, I like what it tries to do, and I think it does a pretty good job. However, I'm not going to let that distract me from the challenges that it presents to a GM who wants to pursue that style. I designed a sandbox setting about a year ago, and run two separate games in it at the moment, and have been for about eight months now. I've had to adjust some of the ways I think about the game and the players, and it's been an interesting experience to do so. That said, this is definitely the style I have the least experience with. This isn't a post about how to design a sandbox setting, just an analysis of the the strengths and weaknesses of the style. So, sandbox!

Semi-Linear GMing

Last week I took on linear GMing, which is a bit of a touchy topic for me, but this week I want to explore semi-linear GMing, which is a style I have a lot of experience with. I've run a number of semi-linear games over the past decade, though I'm finally making a try at turning that setting into a sandbox (and at developing a wiki, the results of which can be seen here). In general, I find that semi-linear is usually a good starting point, because it accords people more freedom than a linear style while maintaining a balanced workload for the GM.

At My Table: We Vote on House Rules

At my table, we vote on the house rules (which can be found here, on our as yet sparse wiki)

I run two 3.5 edition D&D games, and I've been running one for about eight years now. The players and characters fluctuate, but I try my best to keep them going. I decided I wanted to use some house rules about two or three years ago, after learning more about how the mechanics fit together on various gaming forums, especially the Wizards Forums, Brilliant Gameologists, and the Gaming Den. Before that I was a little naive. I actually banned monks for being overpowered. It's okay. I got better.

I had experience with house rules in the past as a player, and they often went unannounced, were executive decisions by the GM, or took the form of extensive "Patch kits", sometimes in excess of thirty pages. So when I thought about making some, I resolved to try not to do any of that. I wanted them to be light (less than two pages); general, rather than tweaks to specific classes or abilities; and community supported. My general policy is that things aren't a problem until they're a problem, which saves me a lot of time not putting out fires that haven't been lit yet. And realistically, if I couldn't present a clear enough case for why these house rules would make the game more fun, then we didn't need them. While doing that, I learned a lot about the benefits of establishing them democratically, and about a few of the challenges involved.