Gen Con 2018 will be my 37th Gen Con, and I have a few tips to pass along. Let me start by saying that my Gen Con experience might be different than yours, especially if you fly into Indy and are going to be by yourself. I drive down from Milwaukee and I have dozens of family members and friends there for pick-up games, so we don't do too many official gaming events. But please read on, as most of these tips will still apply.
HOTEL
Getting a downtown hotel is the greatest challenge of Gen Con. If you pre-purchase a badge before the hotel block registration opens, you'll receive an email with the earliest time you can log in on hotel registration day. These times are chosen by lottery. Note that downtown hotel space has become so scarce that, even with 8 time slots in our core Gen Con group, we have been unable to get a downtown hotel in the last two years. I suspect we've just been terribly unlucky. The only tip here is to make sure each person going buys their own badge and doesn't buy badges for anyone else, because only actual purchasers get a time slot. Note that there are some hotel rooms in downtown Indy that are not allocated to Gen Con (though not many). You'll pay a lot more for these, and you should reserve them at least 18 months in advance. Don't feel defeated if you don't get a downtown hotel - there are plenty on the outskirts of the city. They're generally cheaper, and they try hard to cater to the gamers that are stuck out there. You'll just have to drive into the city every day, which brings me to ...
PARKING
If you've never been to Gen Con before, you may not realize how important parking is. This is a game convention, so you'll probably have lots of games with you, or miniatures, or whatever. Chances are, even if you get a hotel downtown, you'll be a few blocks away. You're car may be the closest place to the convention center where you can store things. When we do manage to get a hotel downtown, we show up Wednesday night just as office workers are leaving, grab a spot in the parking structure right next to the convention center, and don't budge from that spot until Sunday. Surprisingly, it's probably cheaper than Valet parking at your hotel, and you can get to your car and its contents whenever you like. If you are driving in every day (as we are this year), finding a parking spot in the morning, especially on Thursday and Friday, can be frustrating. I always reserve a parking spot ahead of time. There are a few online sites that do this, but I use ParkWhiz. It'll cost you about the same ($20 a day) but you'll know there's a spot waiting for you.
FOOD
There are so many food options now at Gen Con that it's hardly worth giving any tips. At lunch time, the pedestrian mall outside the convention center is swarming with food trucks. There are dozens or restaurants (some cheap, some expensive), and there's always the food court at the mall. Prime time for lunch seems to be around 1-2pm, and the dinner rush starts at 6pm when the exhibit hall closes, so if you can stagger your eating schedule, your lines will be shorter. The last tip here is to find the elevated walkway shortcut from the Hyatt hotel mezzanine to the mall food court - you'll avoid traffic lights and crowds on the streets and stay in air conditioning the whole way.
WILL CALL VS MAIL
When you register for your badge and your events you can choose to have them mailed to you or you can pick them up at the Will Call window when you get there. Gen Con has become amazingly efficient at getting people through the Will Call line on Wednesday night, but it can still take as long as 45 minutes. If you're confident that you'll remember to bring your badge with you, having it mailed to you should save you some time.
EXHIBIT HALL OPENING
This is more of a recommendation than a tip. If you've never done it before, show up for the exhibit hall opening on Thursday morning. You should get there by 9:30 to get decent view, especially if you want to watch from up on the balcony. The Gen Con opening ceremony is strange and sometimes dorky and maybe a little too long, but it's worth it to watch the sea of gamers flowing into the hall at ten o'clock.
COSTUME VIEWING
Costume watching is a fun and free part of Gen Con, and some of them are amazing. You'll see plenty of costumes as you move from event to event - you can't avoid it - but if you want to see the most, and best costumes in one place and take photos, show up in the big hallway outside the exhibit hall on Saturday, an hour or two before the costume parade starts. This is when attendees with the most elaborate costumes are sure to be suited up and available. There are designated areas in that main hallway where costumed attendees can pose for pictures without blocking traffic. Also note that you should normally ask permission before taking someone's photo, but if they're in the designated posing areas, or walking in the costume parade, you can assume you have permission to take their photo.
PLAY BEFORE YOU PAY
All this logistics and atmosphere is great, but you've really come to Gen Con to play games, and probably to buy a few new games. Why not try them before you buy them? Most game companies in the exhibit hall offer short demo sessions of their games, and sometimes they have a separate area in the board game hall to do longer demos. You could also check the game library to see if you can check out the game you're interested and play it with a couple friends.
OPEN GAMING SPACE
My biggest gripe with Gen Con before it left Milwaukee was that there were no open tables where my friends and I could play games. The move to Indy fixed that in a big way, but now the convention and hotel spaces are getting full again. One way to find a table is to search the adjoining hotels - they sometimes have some open space set aside in lobbies, mezzanines, or ballrooms. Stake out a table before the exhibit hall closes if you intend to play in the evening when demand is highest. Perhaps the easiest way to get a table is to go to one of the event coordination stations in the huge gaming halls and just ask for one, They usually have some tables that are currently unused. This always seems to work, but your time slot will be limited to a few hours and the halls can get pretty noisy.
FREE SEMINARS
Sometimes it's nice to take a short break from gaming. Gen Con has hundreds of free seminars you can sit in for an hour or so. These cover all different topics: release plans of game companies, advice for authors, use of games in therapy, and Q&A sessions with celebrities - This year I'm seeing authors James S. A. Corey (The Expanse) and David Brin (The Postman, Uplift).
WANDER
My final tip is to set aside some time to just wander around the convention hall and attached hotels. You may find a few interesting events you didn't know were happening, and at the very least, you'll get a sense of the amazing size of the convention. You're part of an invasion force of tabletop gamers, three times the size of all the combined armies at the Battle of Hastings, that have taken over a medium sized American city.
Wednesday, June 6, 2018
Wednesday, November 18, 2015
Story Elements in Tabletop Roleplaying Games
This post is a series of excerpts from my book, Elusive Legends: Building Story in Tabletop Roleplaying Games
When I think about the tabletop roleplaying games (RPGs) I’ve played over the past 35 years, what I remember are the stories. I remember revealing that the villain behind the slave trade was the friendly and curious barkeep that the players had trusted. I remember when my ranger was asked to follow the trail of a werewolf, only to discover that he was tracking himself. I remember when a friend’s timid Call of Cthulhu character suddenly grabbed an ancient stone and dove into a pit, sacrificing himself to save the rest of us from approaching shoggoths.
But these story elements happened only by chance, or through creative efforts of improvisation and imagination by a single player. As a gamemaster (GM), I’ve found it challenging to build story in my campaigns. Many newer RPGs reward storytelling elements like playing in character and pursuing character goals, but even these systems can’t automatically generate a great story. The rules only go so far. What we need is a set of guidelines for how to create story.
If only someone had already written such a book.
Anyone who's even dabbled in writing fiction knows that hundreds of these books exist. But how do we apply the wisdom of fiction writing instructors to roleplaying games? That’s what this article is about. We'll examine a few story elements studied by beginning fiction writers and then suggests how they can be introduced into your roleplaying games.
The high concept of a story, sometimes called the premise, is a short statement of the key conceit of the story. What makes this story different from every other story? This is the hook writers use to attract readers and establish mood. Cloned Dinosaurs Escape on an Island is a high concept, as is A Widow Protects her Farm During the Civil War. Depending on the genre, the high concept may be the core around which the story is built, or the external scaffolding that supports it. In The Breakout Novelist, Donald Maas has this to say about high concept, which he calls premise:
In RPGs, your high concept is the tagline you use to get your players interested. Even if there are portions of your campaign that you want to keep secret, you should still come up with a high concept to describe the game. It will act as inspiration and help establish a consistent mood. Your players will have different expectations if they’re playing Small-time Bootleggers in the 1920s, as opposed to Explorers of Undead-infested Elven Ruins.
The inciting incident is what changes the main character’s world and sets the story in motion. In Star Wars, it’s when Luke sees the message from Princess Leia. In The Hunger Games, it's the drawing of Prim’s name in the lottery. If the inciting incident doesn’t happen, the main character’s normal life proceeds unchanged. There is no story. For that reason, inciting incidents should occur very early – some say on the first page of a novel or story. But often, especially in genre fiction, readers need more time to understand normal life before they can appreciate the significance of the change the inciting incident brings about.
The inciting incident in tabletop RPGs is the event that draws the players into the adventure. It’s what keeps them from settling down to a normal, safe life. In heroic fantasy, it’s the first sign of evil and monsters. In an investigation game, it’s being assigned to the case or stumbling upon the first clue. In our conquistador campaign, it was when the ships dropped us off on the west coast of South America and sailed back to Panama City. It should be obvious to each player that their character’s time of leading a normal life has come to an end. The adventure has begun.
It can be difficult to come up with a single incident that motivates all of the players to get involved. You don’t want the inciting incident to split the party into two factions that are at odds. The solution is to have a clear understanding of the characters’ common goals. If they don’t have any common goals, they don’t really have a party.
Readers keep reading because they want to know what happens next, and usually it’s because they care about the character to whom things are happening – the protagonist. This might be a sympathetic attachment to the main character based on identification, pity or admiration. It could be intense interest in the protagonist’s unique situation, which is often the case with an otherwise unsympathetic antihero. Either way, the reader should sense inner strength in the protagonist – the potential to overcome obstacles and reach their goal.
Making readers care is an art, but much of it comes down to whether the author really cares about her characters. The more the author knows about a character, good or bad, the more she will love them, and that will come across on the page. In the stories we tell in roleplaying games, the protagonists are always the player characters. For some adventures, one character is the protagonist and the rest are supporting cast. The same concept applies here; the more the players know about their characters, the more they will care about what happens to them.
Sometimes it may seem like the players aren’t the protagonists. Perhaps they sign on to help someone else with a goal – the young farm girl whose father has disappeared in the woods, the starship captain who has to smuggle secret cargo onto a secure planet, or the tribal chief trying to survive the challenges of rivals. Even if this is the case, understand that the players are still the protagonists. Even if they’re helping someone else achieve a goal, the story should always be about them. Your job is to create situations to help players love their characters, so put them in scenes where they are challenged, where they can be the heroes. If a player doesn't like his character, he’ll lose interest and stop playing, just like a reader stops reading. If he loves his character, he’ll find story everywhere.
An author creates story by showing us how a protagonist we care about deals with a problem, but that’s not always enough to keep the reader’s attention. The stakes must be high enough. What if the protagonist doesn’t fix the problem or achieve their goal? What happens? If the consequences aren’t significant, then we don’t feel tension – even though we care about the character, we don’t really care whether they succeed. Stakes don’t have to be earth-shattering, or even significant to every reader, but they must be very important to the protagonist. If we care about the character, then we care about what matters to them. In Plot & Structure, James Scott Bell explains stakes as:
Usually the stakes are negative, like death, the loss of a loved one, or the destruction of the world. Sometimes stakes are positive, like gaining true love. Salespeople often claim that people are only motivated by two things: hope of gain, and fear of loss. I don’t usually listen to salespeople, but that’s pretty good.
Stakes can be external, dealing with physical consequences to the main character or their world, or they can be internal, putting the status quo of their psyche at risk. Sometimes stories have both – an external threat that forces the character to deal with an internal struggle. Stakes give everything else in the story significance. Without them, the reader just won’t care. I had a writing instructor who illustrated this point with a story. He convinced his mother to watch Terminator 2 with him, and when it was all over, he asked what she thought. “It was alright,” she said, “but not much happened.” All that action, but nothing happened. She didn’t appreciate the stakes because she hadn’t connected with the protagonist.
One of the biggest issues in many RPGs is that stakes are not high enough. Stakes keep your players from deciding to give up and send their characters off to do something else. If you don’t understand what the players and their characters want, you’ll have a hard time coming up with an adventure with stakes that will keep them motivated. The best stakes in RPGs are those that threaten the player characters directly. If the party is connected enough, you may only have to threaten one of them in order to create high stakes for them all. If the stakes only involve an NPC, even if it’s a friend or relative, they won’t be as strong.
Stakes are what happens if the players take no action or turn back. If a party is risking their lives by entering a dangerous cave to recover a fabled treasure, the stakes are just the treasure – they could turn back at any time, and that’s all they’d lose. But if one of the characters has been cursed to die in three days unless the treasure is returned to the sorcerer prince, then death becomes the stakes.
When I think about the tabletop roleplaying games (RPGs) I’ve played over the past 35 years, what I remember are the stories. I remember revealing that the villain behind the slave trade was the friendly and curious barkeep that the players had trusted. I remember when my ranger was asked to follow the trail of a werewolf, only to discover that he was tracking himself. I remember when a friend’s timid Call of Cthulhu character suddenly grabbed an ancient stone and dove into a pit, sacrificing himself to save the rest of us from approaching shoggoths.
But these story elements happened only by chance, or through creative efforts of improvisation and imagination by a single player. As a gamemaster (GM), I’ve found it challenging to build story in my campaigns. Many newer RPGs reward storytelling elements like playing in character and pursuing character goals, but even these systems can’t automatically generate a great story. The rules only go so far. What we need is a set of guidelines for how to create story.
If only someone had already written such a book.
Anyone who's even dabbled in writing fiction knows that hundreds of these books exist. But how do we apply the wisdom of fiction writing instructors to roleplaying games? That’s what this article is about. We'll examine a few story elements studied by beginning fiction writers and then suggests how they can be introduced into your roleplaying games.
High Concept
Make sure your players know what the story is about.The high concept of a story, sometimes called the premise, is a short statement of the key conceit of the story. What makes this story different from every other story? This is the hook writers use to attract readers and establish mood. Cloned Dinosaurs Escape on an Island is a high concept, as is A Widow Protects her Farm During the Civil War. Depending on the genre, the high concept may be the core around which the story is built, or the external scaffolding that supports it. In The Breakout Novelist, Donald Maas has this to say about high concept, which he calls premise:
In short, a premise is any single image, moment, feeling, or belief that has enough power and personal meaning for the author to set her story on fire, and propel it like a rocket for hundreds of pages.
In RPGs, your high concept is the tagline you use to get your players interested. Even if there are portions of your campaign that you want to keep secret, you should still come up with a high concept to describe the game. It will act as inspiration and help establish a consistent mood. Your players will have different expectations if they’re playing Small-time Bootleggers in the 1920s, as opposed to Explorers of Undead-infested Elven Ruins.
Inciting Incident
Make it clear when normal life ends and the story begins.The inciting incident is what changes the main character’s world and sets the story in motion. In Star Wars, it’s when Luke sees the message from Princess Leia. In The Hunger Games, it's the drawing of Prim’s name in the lottery. If the inciting incident doesn’t happen, the main character’s normal life proceeds unchanged. There is no story. For that reason, inciting incidents should occur very early – some say on the first page of a novel or story. But often, especially in genre fiction, readers need more time to understand normal life before they can appreciate the significance of the change the inciting incident brings about.
The inciting incident in tabletop RPGs is the event that draws the players into the adventure. It’s what keeps them from settling down to a normal, safe life. In heroic fantasy, it’s the first sign of evil and monsters. In an investigation game, it’s being assigned to the case or stumbling upon the first clue. In our conquistador campaign, it was when the ships dropped us off on the west coast of South America and sailed back to Panama City. It should be obvious to each player that their character’s time of leading a normal life has come to an end. The adventure has begun.
It can be difficult to come up with a single incident that motivates all of the players to get involved. You don’t want the inciting incident to split the party into two factions that are at odds. The solution is to have a clear understanding of the characters’ common goals. If they don’t have any common goals, they don’t really have a party.
Sympathetic Protagonist
The player characters are always the protagonists.Readers keep reading because they want to know what happens next, and usually it’s because they care about the character to whom things are happening – the protagonist. This might be a sympathetic attachment to the main character based on identification, pity or admiration. It could be intense interest in the protagonist’s unique situation, which is often the case with an otherwise unsympathetic antihero. Either way, the reader should sense inner strength in the protagonist – the potential to overcome obstacles and reach their goal.
Making readers care is an art, but much of it comes down to whether the author really cares about her characters. The more the author knows about a character, good or bad, the more she will love them, and that will come across on the page. In the stories we tell in roleplaying games, the protagonists are always the player characters. For some adventures, one character is the protagonist and the rest are supporting cast. The same concept applies here; the more the players know about their characters, the more they will care about what happens to them.
Sometimes it may seem like the players aren’t the protagonists. Perhaps they sign on to help someone else with a goal – the young farm girl whose father has disappeared in the woods, the starship captain who has to smuggle secret cargo onto a secure planet, or the tribal chief trying to survive the challenges of rivals. Even if this is the case, understand that the players are still the protagonists. Even if they’re helping someone else achieve a goal, the story should always be about them. Your job is to create situations to help players love their characters, so put them in scenes where they are challenged, where they can be the heroes. If a player doesn't like his character, he’ll lose interest and stop playing, just like a reader stops reading. If he loves his character, he’ll find story everywhere.
Stakes
Stakes must be high, so the players can’t turn back.An author creates story by showing us how a protagonist we care about deals with a problem, but that’s not always enough to keep the reader’s attention. The stakes must be high enough. What if the protagonist doesn’t fix the problem or achieve their goal? What happens? If the consequences aren’t significant, then we don’t feel tension – even though we care about the character, we don’t really care whether they succeed. Stakes don’t have to be earth-shattering, or even significant to every reader, but they must be very important to the protagonist. If we care about the character, then we care about what matters to them. In Plot & Structure, James Scott Bell explains stakes as:
Something that is a threat to the Lead character from the outside. Alost always this is in the form of another person trying to do the Lead harm - physically, emotionally, or professionally.
Usually the stakes are negative, like death, the loss of a loved one, or the destruction of the world. Sometimes stakes are positive, like gaining true love. Salespeople often claim that people are only motivated by two things: hope of gain, and fear of loss. I don’t usually listen to salespeople, but that’s pretty good.
Stakes can be external, dealing with physical consequences to the main character or their world, or they can be internal, putting the status quo of their psyche at risk. Sometimes stories have both – an external threat that forces the character to deal with an internal struggle. Stakes give everything else in the story significance. Without them, the reader just won’t care. I had a writing instructor who illustrated this point with a story. He convinced his mother to watch Terminator 2 with him, and when it was all over, he asked what she thought. “It was alright,” she said, “but not much happened.” All that action, but nothing happened. She didn’t appreciate the stakes because she hadn’t connected with the protagonist.
One of the biggest issues in many RPGs is that stakes are not high enough. Stakes keep your players from deciding to give up and send their characters off to do something else. If you don’t understand what the players and their characters want, you’ll have a hard time coming up with an adventure with stakes that will keep them motivated. The best stakes in RPGs are those that threaten the player characters directly. If the party is connected enough, you may only have to threaten one of them in order to create high stakes for them all. If the stakes only involve an NPC, even if it’s a friend or relative, they won’t be as strong.
Stakes are what happens if the players take no action or turn back. If a party is risking their lives by entering a dangerous cave to recover a fabled treasure, the stakes are just the treasure – they could turn back at any time, and that’s all they’d lose. But if one of the characters has been cursed to die in three days unless the treasure is returned to the sorcerer prince, then death becomes the stakes.
Thursday, November 5, 2015
They Fixed Dungeons and Dragons
My
friends and I have been playing D&D since 1978. It was a totally new
experience at the time, breaking away from Avalon Hill wargames with hex maps
and cardboard counters into a world where we could try to do anything, imagine
anything. The world of RPGs expanded in the early ‘80s to include horror,
superheroes, and international espionage. All in the theater of the mind. It
could only get better.
Somewhere
along the line, I think we made a mistake. We bought little metal miniatures,
painted them, and placed them on a square grid. The setting was still exciting,
and we still felt the draw of character advancement and newfound abilites and magic
items, but sometimes it felt like we were playing the old wargames again,
counting out movement spaces and measuring for ranged attacks. We weren’t the heroes
anymore – those little metal figures were.
D&D
version 3.0, released in 2000, and 3.5 a few years later, were very successful
because they felt cleaner, more precise. They were also energized by the
release of the d20 Open Gaming License, which allowed any 3rd party publisher
to produce support materials for D&D without any licensing requirements.
The OGL sparked a renaissance in the RPG industry and dragged in a whole new
generation of gamers. But these releases also institutionalized the use of
miniatures and square grids. It was built right into the rules. The roleplaying
game became a board game whenever the players got into combat. The rules
required it.
Don’t
misunderstand me. I loved D&D 3.5.
I wrote for Dungeon Magazine during the 3.5 era and was part of an esoteric
priesthood that could calculate proper challenge ratings for encounters and correctly
generate all the modifiers for a new monster stat block. But it did feel like
we had lost something.
In
2008, Wizards of the Coast released the core books for the 4th edition of
D&D. The regression back to a tabletop combat game had taken 30 years, but
it had come full circle. Gone were any monster abilities that didn’t apply to
combat. Skills and character abilities were all focused on fighting using
miniatures on a square grid. All roleplaying aspects of the game had been
removed, leaving only a tabletop combat game (albeit a good one). We tried 4th
edition briefly, but it just made me sad. I missed D&D. We found some
refuge in Pathfinder, a very well-produced lifeboat for everyone who wanted to
stay with the 3.5 system. But I still preferred games where we could “go off
the grid.”
My
first exposure to D&D 5th edition was at Gen Con 2013. Some friends were
playing it in organized sessions and said they liked it. I really got
interested when I heard that none of the organized event Dungeon Masters had used
square grid maps or miniatures. Everything happened through dialog, with maybe
a few hand drawn maps thrown in to set the stage. I picked up the Players Handbook
and found myself reading a cleaned up version of the old school D&D rules,
but including many of the best parts of the editions that had come between. No
mention of squares, or precise line of sight, or drawings of how a cone-shaped
spell maps onto a square grid. I bought the Monster Manual and found that my
favorite creatures once again had their non-combat backgrounds and abilities.
D&D had been fixed. Congrats to lead designers Mike Mearls and Jeremey
Crawford for giving us back one of our favorite RPGs.
Now
I have to get back to preparing an adventure. I have a 5e group starting up
tomorrow. Good thing I don’t have to dig out all the right miniatures and
pre-draw a bunch of maps. I’ll spend that time concentrating on the story.
Friday, November 15, 2013
Kickstarting the Indy RPGs
First off, it feels strange classifying some tabletop roleplaying games as “Indy”. By the definition of indy in any other
industry, all but one or two, and maybe all roleplaying games are “indy.” There
aren’t any huge RPG publishing houses acting as gatekeepers and reserving all
the sales channels for the “real” RPGS.
But
there are indy RPGs. What makes them indy isn’t their lack of corporate backers
or off-channel distribution, but the nature of the games themselves. They buck
the mainstream trends and push the edges of what an RPG is. If we use the
music industry as a model, maybe we should call them alternative or
experimental RPGs instead.
Indy RPGs have been around for a long time. Systems like Steffen O’Sullivan’s
Fudge grew up on usenet in the early 90’s. The internet and pdf delivery kept indy
RPGs alive and created fertile ground for new games and the communities around
them, but they were only traded and talked about in the back alleys of
RPGdom. They were just digital phantoms compared to the mainstream games like
Dungeons and Dragons and Vampire. They had no budgets for high-end production
or artwork, let alone print runs.
Kickstarter
changed all that. The players who love the Indy games now have an organized way
to show their support and be part of pumping these fringe gaming experience up
to the production values of the big boys. A game like Evil Hat’s Fate is a fun
experiment when you download the PDF for your gaming group to try out, but it
becomes a real game like any other when you hold the gorgeous (and surprisingly
hefty!) Fate Core book in your hands. The professional layout makes it easier
to understand the rules, and the artwork fills your head with inspiration. The
experience is so good and the value so high, that when the next indy RPG
kickstarter comes along, you immediately jump in at the “Take my Money,
Please!” level.
This
Kickstarter RPG mania is not limited to Indy games, of course. Both of Reaper
Miniatures’ "Bones" kickstarters are now in the top 10 kickstarters of all time–
the only company to show up twice on that list. Monte Cook was wildly
successful with his Numenera project, which might appear mainstream to the
casual observer but does contain many aspects of the indy storytelling games. And it looks like Monte and his buddy
Bruce Cordell will be pulling in another winner with The Strange RPG.
This
kickstarter fever does two things that I love. It validates and rewards the
Indy game developers who have spent years working on systems they probably had
little hope of monetizing, and it legitimizes the games themselves to the point
where they can hit the gaming table without players being turned off by the
“weird rules somebody downloaded.” A game like Robin D Laws’ Hillfolk might have
escaped my notice and been categorized as some strange improv tool, but now I
hold in my hands one of the most beautiful RPG books I’ve ever seen, with
enough diagrams, sidebars and full page artwork to make me painfully eager to
play.
It’s
hard to say when and if this will run its course, but for now, if you’re an
indy RPG developer, kickstarter seems to be you’re path to getting funding to
produce something truly remarkable. Personally, I only see my kickstarter
expenses increasing. Just this week, I bought into another project – the
English translation of the Japanese travel adventure game, Ryuutama. Can’t wait
to see it.Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Why is Numenera Different
So Numenera, Monte Cook’s new mind-blowingly illustrated,
kickass kickstarted RPG is here. Monte is one of the designers who brought us the
D20 renaissance that sustained the RPG world through the last decade or so, and
you might be wondering if this is just more of the same – D20 Gamma World if
you will.
I
got my digital hands on the PDF of the Numenera corebook at the beginning of
August and had time to read it and prepare an adventure for Gen Con. Based on
that experience, I can tell you that the only things this game has in common
with the D20 system is that it does actually use a d20 to resolve tasks, higher rolls are better, and there are character classes (sort of). That’s where the
similarities end. Here is why this game is different.
Creativity Trumps Rules
If you’ve followed Numenera’s development at all, you know
that the big draw is the unique, far future setting. So why develop a whole new
rules system for it? Why not use D20 and the OGL? My impression is that Monte
set out to create a game where there are just enough rules to provide structure and differentiation between characters, but not so many rules that players
make decisions based on them. We’re all trying to get back to AD&D here,
back when you decided what your characters wanted to do, and then figured out
how that got modeled in the rules. From my brief experience so far, I think Numenera
succeeds. None of my players ever asked about rules before they decided what
their characters would do next. This is about players being in charge of their
story, not constrained in their actions because “there’s no rule for that.”
Players Are In Charge Of Their Own Fate
At its core, Numenera gameplay still comes down to players
rolling a d20 to see if they succeed at a task, but the dynamics of those rolls
are, in many ways, flipped 180 degrees from what you’d expect. The gamemaster
sets a difficulty for each task, and the player uses the character’s skills,
assets (tools, etc.) and situational advantages to reduce the difficulty before
rolling. It’s all very smooth and very easy for both the players and the
gamemaster. In addition, characters have attribute pools reflecting how smart,
strong or speedy they are. These pools can be spent as “effort” to decrease the
difficulty of a task further, but they also act as the player’s hit points, creating
wonderful tension and giving the players more choices about how and when they
use their resources. Again, this worked very well and the players got the idea
very quickly.
Another
twist is that the gamemaster never makes any of these rolls, only the players.
If a player is attacking, she rolls against a fixed difficulty and decreases it
based on attack skills and effort. If an enemy is attacking her, she makes a
defensive roll against a fixed difficulty, reducing it with defensive skills,
assets and effort. This brings up a key question that illustrates very well how
this game is different: What happens when a non-player character (NPC) is fighting another NPC? The answer
is that the gamemaster just decides what happens. Why roll at all? Once you step
over this line as a gamemaster, you’ll wonder why that wasn’t always the answer. Brilliant.
The Gamemaster Intrudes
As a Numenera gamemaster, I lose the ability to make die rolls,
which means I can’t hide behind a screen and cheat rolls to railroad the players into situations. To compensate for this, Monte includes “GM Intrusion,” which
amounts to the gamemaster declaring the outcome of a task or the
appearance of a new, perhaps highly coincidental complication. This is simply being
open and honest about what used to happen behind the screen, and now the players get to be in on the decision. If they accept, they also get experience points!
This
is a very different way of controlling the narrative and may be one of the most
difficult parts of Numenera. When is something GM Intrusion and
when is it just declaring what’s happening in the world? How will you make sure
you don’t favor some players over others? I found I had to write down possible GM
Intrusion hints for each encounter in an adventure – usually coincidental
complications like “The Emmissary recognizes one of the PCs from childhood and singles
him out as an example” or “The PC happens to walk up to the tower just as the
rings activate.”
NPCs are not PCs
In most games, I spend more time making up the stats for a
powerful NPC than the players actually spent talking to
her or killing her. Numenera rejects the assumption that NPCs and creatures
should follow the same rules used for player characters (PCs). PCs are in this
for the long haul and require a rich set of abilities to differentiate
themselves from their companions and let them shine in a variety of situations.
Most NPCs and creatures need only
the most basic stats, and maybe one or two special abilities to keep the PCs on
their toes. In Numenera, a basic NPC can consist of only a short description
(the most important part) and a level. This level determines the difficulty for
all PC rolls vs. that NPC, unless the GM changes it under special circumstances
(like the level 3 merchant who is level 5 when haggling or appraising). As a
GM, this is so refreshing. All my time creating my campaign revolved around
story, or special NPC and creature abilities tied to story. Not once did I have
to determine an NPC’s strength, or initiative, or calculate a total attack
bonus. And you know what? The PCs never knew or cared that my NPCs didn’t have
a half sheet of numbers to back up the difficulty of their rolls.
Character Creation, Not Character Calculation
Monte wrote a very interesting Blog entry a few weeks ago
about roleplaying games that center around success in character creation rather than actual
play. He managed to put into words something that’s been bugging me for a
while. It explains much of the attraction of myself and many of my players to story-based
RPG systems, like Fate, over more min-maxable games. In Numenara, Monte picks a middle ground where players make three choices from a fixed, but rich menu of
characteristics. This is the distinctive Numenera character pattern of “I am an
[adjective][noun] who [verbs]." The adjectives are things like Graceful, Tough,
or Charming. The noun is one of the three basic character classes, and the
verbs are colorful descriptions of special abilities called foci, like “Masters
Weaponry” or “Exists Partially out of Phase.” After choosing your character’s
three part description, there are still a few basic decisions to make about
your stat pools and special abilities, but it’s very quick. After a fairly
short process of very interesting decision-making, you’ll have a surprisingly
rich and unique character that’s nothing like anyone else at the table. This
system also lends itself very well to future source books stuffed
with new adjectives and foci.
A World of Discovery and Cyphers
Numenera is set on Earth, but a billion years in the future.
Eight advanced civilizations, some not even human, have risen and fallen, and
the planet itself has been molded to fit their needs and is barely
recognizable. By some strange twist of fate, the Earth is once again inhabited
by humans much like us, with medieval technology except where they have
discovered and adapted the unfathomable tools of previous civilizations - the numenera.
Whatever lofty purpose that smooth, self-heating platform once served, it’s now
used to dry tobacco (or a Ninth World equivalent). And if you turn the dial on
the small yellow canisters found in certain ancient ruins and throw them in the
lake before the blinking light glows solid red, you can stun a lot of fish.
This
creates a world of pseudo-magic and great mysteries, many of them unsolvable.
It gives the GM free reign to create anything at all, and to surprise the
players. This is a game about discovering new things, and it is discovery, not
combat, that gives the players experience points to develop
their characters. This world also allowed Monte to create the concept of
cyphers. One goal of the game seems to be to allow players to feel good about
themselves because they come up with just the right creative solution for a
problem. A Cypher is a relatively common piece of technology that can only be
used once to gain some weird effect – sort of
like scrolls in a traditional fantasy game, but available to everyone. A Cypher
might turn a character invisible, or fly off and scan an area for life signs,
or create a protective force field around the party. The possibilities are wide
open, and the gamemaster doesn’t have to worry about creating a game-breaking
cypher, because once it’s used it’s gone. I should note that coming up with
interesting cyphers was one of the more challenging parts of gamemastering
Numenera, but the table in the rulebook and the Cypher Deck are very helpful.
Overall Impressions
Players adapted quickly to the difficulty
system and the use of stat pools, but it took a little while for us to get the
hang of GM Intrusion. Combat rounds, though more abstract than most
players were used to, went well, though one of the more complicated
combats would have benefited from the use of miniatures. Also, players became obsessed with finding beneficial uses for every weird piece of numenera they found, which was a lot of fun.
Throughout the process of learning the Numenera rules,
creating an adventure, and running it, three things really stood out as unique.
First, the system is wonderful for gamemasters. I could concentrate on the setting
and story and only add detail when it mattered, not because I had to complete a
numerical model. In all situations, except when the PCs were involved, I could
just decide outcomes without being subject to the tyranny of my own dice. It
was liberating, both in planning and while running the adventure. Second, I could see that the
players were immediately interested in their characters and knew what made them
special. They played to their strengths, accepted the complications of GM
Intrusion, and had a great time. Third, I
fell in love with the weirdness and malleability of the Ninth World. At first I
was worried that the players would hate that there were things in the world
they couldn’t fully understand, but they took it in stride and rejoiced in what
they did discover. When you think about it, the Ninth World isn't that different from our own. I don’t even really understand how
my cell phone works – it’s essentially numenera.
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
12 Things to do at Gen Con
I just got back from my 33rd Gen Con, where
49,000 of my gamer friends gathered at the impressive Indiana Convention
Center. It’s the city’s largest annual convention, in terms of economic impact
– only surpassed by the 2012 Super Bowl.
I
think the easiest way to describe Gen Con is to list the things people do there.
I’ll start with the obvious, in case you have no idea what Gen Con is about,
and move into some things even veterans might not have experienced yet. If you
go to Gen Con, you can use this list as a sort of scavenger hunt. Check off
everything and we’ll say you won Gen Con.
1. Play a Board Game or Card Game.
These are the backbone, the heart and soul of Gen Con. Yes,
there are plenty of miniature gamers, role players and cosplayers around, but
it’s the board and card games that light up the exhibit hall and drive the
economic engine that keeps this convention going. These are the games
responsible for the crazy lines that wind around the exhibit hall on the first
day. These are the games that sell out and draw gawkers at the playing tables
the rest of the week. It’s easy to find a board game to play – check one out in
the game library room and play it with your friends. If you didn’t bring
friends with you, you can get into a demo game at a vendor’s booth in the
exhibit hall, or sign up for one of thousands of official board game events. If
you play Magic, you’ll have no problem settling into the huge card game hall.
2. Play a Roleplaying Game
Gary Gygax, the guy who started Gen Con,is the same guy who
created Dungeons and Dragons. Throughout the early years, especially in the
80s, it was D&D that drew people to the convention. The big event of my
first Gen Con in 1979 was the release of the Advanced Dungeons and Dragons
Dungeon Master’s Guide. If you’ve never played a roleplaying game (RPG) before,
Gen Con may be a good place to try. The organized events are friendly to beginners,
and most roleplaying games are cooperative, so you’ll get plenty of help from
other players. Dungeons and Dragons is still around, though it’s going through
a rough patch. Maybe you could try Pathfinder, its apparent successor, or
something brand new like Numenera, a fantastic, far-future game by Monte Cook, one
of the designers that led the renaissance of D&D and other roleplaying
games back in the 90s. He’s the closest thing roleplaying has to a living rock
star.
3. Check out some Miniature Games
Gen Con started with miniatures. Fifty years ago, Gary Gygax
and his friends in Lake Geneva Wisconsin (Geneva Convention = Gen Con. Get it?)
held a small convention for some friends that played games, especially the miniature
combat games that eventually led to D&D. They moved beautifully painted
miniatures around impressively detailed maps with sculpted terrain, and they rolled dice to see who
killed whom. Today there are still hundred of miniature gamers at Gen Con, in
the miniature gaming hall. They move beautifully painted miniatures around
impressively detailed maps with sculpted terrain, and they roll dice to see who kills
whom. This can be an expensive and time-consuming hobby to get into. The
unspoken secret is that it’s mainly about painting the miniatures and then just
playing the game so you have an excuse to show them off. At Gen Con you can wander
around and look at these impressive displays without opening your wallet or
lifting a brush.
4. True Dungeon
This event has been the gem of Gen Con for the past decade.
Basically, they take a large ballroom at one of the convention center hotels
and build a legitimately scary, well thought out dungeon. The rules of the game
are fairly simple, but the decorations, costumes, makeup and actors are
professional. Think of it as a high quality haunted house, but you go in with
torches and weapons and potions and everything you need to slay the monsters
that pop out and solve the ingenious puzzles that get you to the next room. If
you want to do this event, make sure you know when online event registration
opens (usually in January). All of the True Dungeon slots fill up within about
twenty minutes.
5. Buy Things
This is the most obvious one. The Exhibit hall is filled
with colorful booths of hundreds of vendors, and is just a bit short of the size
of three football fields. Wander it like a miner in Dwarf Fortress, or hit each
isle systematically. On Thursday morning, the first day the exhibit hall is
open, thousands of people jam into the hallway outside and wait for the doors
to open so they can get the big new games before they sell out. Things calm
down a little by Thursday afternoon, but the crowds are still amazing. There
are all the new games, of course, but what about out of print games? Check. How
about innovative stuff from the independent press? Check. Armor and weapons?
Check. Special tables made just for gamers? Check. Weird dice of all colors and
shapes? Double check. As noted earlier, the exhibit hall is also a great place
to try out new games and get to know other gamers.
6. Seminars
Gen Con is not just about playing games. One of my favorite
things to do is take a short break from gaming to sit back and listen to
someone tell me something interesting. There are seminars on hundreds of topics
- writing (both fiction and for games), upcoming game releases, game design,
and tips on how to keep your RPG players happy. Don’t dismiss these as a waste
of gaming time – they’re a great way to keep you excited beyond the con and let
you meet the minor celebrities of the industry. The writing seminars may be led
by your favorite series authors, or bestsellers like Pat Rothfuss,
who’s a long-time attendee.
who’s a long-time attendee.
7. Meet the Designers
Whether you find them at their booth in the exhibit hall, at
a seminar, or while you’re helping them playtest their new game, make sure you
find the designers of your favorite games or RPG adventures and tell them how
you feel. Don’t be a stalker about it, but I’ve never met a designer who didn’t
appreciate me telling them, in a couple short sentences, that I love their game
and why. A special note here when talking to roleplaying game designers – don’t
tell them how amazing your character is.
8. Check Out some Celebrities
Granted, this isn’t ComicCon. Your not going to get the
entire cast of Game of Thrones or the next superhero movie, but you’re also not
going to have to wait in long lines. Just wander to the signing area in the
back of the exhibit hall while you’re hitting the booths and sneak a peak at
people like Peter Davidson, the fifth Doctor, or Neil Grayston, the guy who
plays Fargo in Eureka. You can look for free, but if you want to get an
autograph and take a picture, it’ll cost you $25. The atmosphere is low-key,
the celebrities are very friendly, and you’ll get some time to talk with them.
9. Become a Patron of an Author or Artist
Toward the back of the exhibit hall there are two areas
called Artists’ Alley and Authors’ Alley. These are rows of small display
tables made affordable for artists and authors to sell their own work directly
to you. Some of the work is good, and some is amazing. Find someone you like.
Buy their stuff when you’re at the con and talk them up to your friends when
you get home. If you stop and talk to them about their work, they’ll probably
remember you when you stop by again next year. If they get big and famous and
end up as the feature artist on the next RPG or Magic release or Fantasy Flight
game, you can say you knew them when.
10. LARP
This a stretch for many, and the mark of a serious
roleplayer. LARP stands for Live Action Role Playing. Think of it as one of
those old “Host a Murder Mystery” parties on steroids. Twenty to fifty people
participate, each with an assigned role in a story and probably dressed for the
part. The rules are usually simple, but the interactions are complicated and
very social. You might be the president of Iran trying to negotiate weapons
deals with a Russian ambassador, or a medieval Japanese warlord dealing with an
incursion of Lovecraftian monsters into your lands. If your not comfortable
joining in the fun, at least wander through the elevated walkways to the nearby
hotels in the evenings and see what’s going on. My guess is you’ll know a LARP
when you see it.
11. People Watch
For some, this is THE activity of the Con. Whether you’re
collecting photos of all the amazing costumes for your blog, checking out all
the geek attire on display (how many variations of “Keep Calm and …” T-shirts
are there?), or just challenging yourself to figure out which people are in
Indy for Gen Con and which are there for the Moto Grand Prix, this can be very entertaining.
If the costumes make you smile, check out the costume parade through the
convention center on Saturday.
12. Breathe
Take a breath, feel the atmosphere of the place. Just wander
and realize that you are in the midst of nearly fifty thousand gamers who share
your passions and absolutely LOVE being there. I know, experienced Gen Con
goers are laughing uncomfortably as they imagine the strong whiff of Gen Con
body odor that sometimes assails you. But honestly, this problem has
dramatically decreased in the last few years, and the ventilation in the
convention center is amazing. For me, Gen Con is the closest thing to
reproducing the feel of Christmas morning when I was a kid. Just look at those
faces around you. They’re all smiling, and if they’re not it’s because they’re
running late getting from one event they looked forward to all year to another
event they looked forward to all year. Feel the love, man. These are some of
the nicest people you will ever meet. I’ve been to all the Gen Cons in Indy and
I’ve never seen a police car at the convention center or a security guard
challenging anyone. Nearly fifty thousand people in a crowded space and the
city budgets nothing extra for police, and the vendors in the crowded exhibit
hall aren’t concerned about theft.
| Waiting for the Exhibit Hall to open on Thursday morning |
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
The Wonders of Gen Con
When my son was in middle school, he had an assignment to
write about a significant event in his life. He wrote about the first time he
walked into the exhibit hall at Gen Con. What did a 9 year-old boy who loved
games see when he walked into a space larger than a football field full of
displays set up by companies trying to sell him games? I can only imagine. Or try to find that paper.
It may seem like a trivial thing, but my sons and I are
geeks at heart. When we gather with geek friends for four dedicated days of
playing games, trying new games and buying games, there’s nothing better. And
the exhibit hall – now three football fields of booths selling games, dice,
weapons, t-shirts, and videos – is one of our favorite places on earth. My sons
are grown now and live in other cities, but we all still go to Gen Con together - so do their friends that started going with us back before high school, and
some of their parents, and next year maybe a couple of my cousins and their
kids. I wouldn’t be surprised if at least 20 of our friends join me and nearly
50 thousand other gamers next year for my 33rd Gen Con.
My own first Gen Con in 1979 was less impressive. The
exhibit hall was the dining area at the student commons at UW Parkside. There
were a few small board game publishers and, of course, TSR, the company that
had created Dungeons and Dragons and started Gen Con a few years earlier. Still, I
had never seen so many fellow gamers gathered in one place, and I immediately
knew I’d be back. I’ve been back 31 times.
| Our boys' first Gen Con - 1997 |
Gen Con has gone through some transitions in venue and
ownership. It now finds itself the sole responsibility of Gen Con LLC,
a sort of spin-off side effect of Hasbro’s purchase of Wizards of the Coast in 1999,
which had earlier purchased TSR – getting D&D and Gen Con in the deal. The
con is now bigger and better and in a city that truly welcomes its attendees
and recognizes its commercial potential. I live in Milwaukee, so the move from
the Milwaukee convention center to Indianapolis in 2003 was a shock, but I got
over it as soon as I got down there. Milwaukee always seemed ashamed of Gen Con
or afraid it would grow too large. Indy hangs welcome banners along all the
streets, the restaurants print special menus and close off sections of tables
just for gamers, and a local microbrewery makes a special beer just for Gen
Con. Indianapolis enlarged their exhibit hall to accommodate the growing Gen
Con crowds and encouraged Mariott to build a new hotel to relieve some of the
housing pressure.
Gen Con is also a very NICE place to be. I remember the
first year in Indy, when they didn’t know what to expect from 30 or 40 thousand
gamers, the city had security guards everywhere. But the only problems occurred
when the Colts fans came in for the pre-season game on Saturday. I haven’t seen
any security guards since, and in ten years I’ve never seen a police car respond to any
problems at the convention center. Gamers are nice people. The very first year
in Indy, when my youngest son was 13, his wallet dropped out of his pocket the
first day while he was playing a game. It had $108 in it that he had saved up
all summer. We went to lost and found a few hours later, and they had his
wallet, with $108 still in it.
| Me and the boys, Gen Con 2012 |
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