The Gap in Play

This post in The Signe of the Frothing Mug mirrors most of my own experiences. Sometimes it happens unexpectedly. With so many busy working schedules, family issues and other real life issues, someone misses one session. As we are in a middle of a scenario, we take the time out waiting for the player to return. Suddenly, someone else fails to show up on the second week. Before we know it, we don't play for three weeks in a row, and I begin to lose interest. After all, I'm not willing to spend time preparing a session if I don't know whether we're playing or not. And then, the campaign implodes as everyone loses interest. Some of us been there and done that. So, what can we do to avoid a campaign implosion by lack of attendance?

In the past, we arranged for a quorum, that is, if at least half the players could make it, we would still play regardless. This almost guarantees the campaign never stops. I used this with mixed results. I never got the sense I was playing with a cohesive group as different players failed to show up on different occasions. I was never playing with the full group. This meant individual storylines failed to take root and even the overall story arcs didn't generate much interest because no player was there all the time to play through it.

We also tried to play in episodic style. This style meant sacrificing long, involving and complex stories for shorter stories of 1-2 sessions. This worked better specially if there were a rotating cast. Every story started with whoever was available and off they went. At the end of session, they returned to their base camp (or ship or whatever) to rest. Next session, rinse and repeat. The problem is this only works if the group is traveling in a mobile base (a spaceship or a boat) or if the campaign is bound within certain geographic limits and the group returns to the same place to rest. In some games, requiring lots of travel, it becomes increasingly difficult to rationalize why some of the missing characters manage to find the rest of the group if they travel all the way to the other side of world.

In the end, I find that both solutions are not ideal ones. When I start a new campaign, I just hope the players commit to the game schedule we agree and take it seriously. Currently, we play twice a month. We hope that, by devoting one week to gaming and another to our families, we will maintain a regular gaming schedule and the campaign won't implode from lack of interest generated by long gaps in play. It still doesn't solve the problem of one player missing a session and waiting three weeks to be able to play again, but then again, by not imposing a weekly game, perhaps the players will show up more often because they are not forced to choose between the game and other things so often.

I am interested in hearing about your own experiences and solutions to this problem, and how did they work out in the end.

New Year Resolution

It's true that as 2012 came to an end I began to really consider GURPS as a viable alternative to my previous gaming choices. It's also true that 2012 was not a good year in terms of gaming, not because I had any lack of player (if anything, I had too many players), but because, for one reason or another, every game fizzled. I won't go back to that subject. You can read all about it here.

I read GURPS 4th edition cover to cover. I enjoyed it but as I began preparing my space opera campaign, I realized I was wasting an ungodly amount of time wrestling with the mechanics. I could just sketch the beginning of a campaign and let the players loose with the rules to create anything they wanted within the premise of the game: a ragtag band of misfits wandering the galaxy, treading the fine line between law and crime. Not unlike Firefly or Traveller. However, I knew that none of my players had read the Player's Guide, so it would take God knows how much time to finish their characters by having them pick and choose from the hideously enormous list of advantages, disadvantages and skills. For the neophyte, it can be a daunting task. I set out to prepare templates of occupations instead, so I could pare down the list of available choices to only those I deemed appropriate to the genre. And the more I did this, the more I felt the need to do something else.

GURPS is a very fine system that does what it sets out to do. It just isn't for me. When I waste more time thinking about the mechanics and how to translate into numbers what my imagination creates, it isn't for me. Almost all roleplaying games have this element of conversion from imagination to mechanics in one way or the other, but I'd rather  spend more time conjuring  people, places and plots than defining what are the appropriate skills for a space academic. I even tried to switch to swords & sorcery with GURPS Conan as it's a genre close to my hear, but I felt that trying to pare down the list of skills to maintain the fast-paced tone of the stories was inglorious. I ended up cutting out almost half the list (do people really need business acumen in S&S?) and the more I cut, the more I wanted to cut. Savage Worlds does it so much better with only half a dozen skills.

Looking back to what I most enjoyed playing in 2012, AD&D 1st was at the top of the list. I only played about half a dozen sessions using the venerable Keep on the Borderlands, but they were immensely enjoyable. I never held the players hand or led them by the nose, they showed lots of creativity in dealing with the NPCs at the fort and the obstacles outside, the thief with 3 hp was having lots of fun just surviving combat, the ranger wanted to kick the bad cleric's ass and take the magic plate mail for himself and overall the level of excitement was high. We ended up cutting it short because of a rules lawyer and a whiner. I had to let these two go and, in retrospect, the whiner was whining because his expectations of what an AD&D 1e game ought to be were different from the group's. By the end of it all, much time had been wasted dealing with internal conflicts leeching most of the fun from the game.

We fumbled the rest of the year but nothing was as fun as those first months when the group adventured in and around the lonely keep on the borderlands. I kept the core group so I decided to make my New Year resolution: to play a campaign of AD&D 1e for as long as it was fun. Will I be able to do it? I am not averse to accepting new players but I have to be more picky. There's a huge disconnect between old school gaming and player's expectations nowadays so I have to be totally open when explaining the gaming style I want for my campaign. I will blog about my experiences as the campaign develops. What's your New Year resolution? Tell me what do you intend to accomplish this year in your hobby?

The True Master

For a few weeks I have been avidly reading stuff about The Tomb of Horrors, that most classic tournament module, reviled by some and praised by others. One thing they all agree on is that the module is a real meat grinder, although some spout that it's an unfair scenario that tricks the players into certain death while others defend it can be "won" by a careful and methodical approach and by ingenuity. I think the picture below summarizes it best. It certainly made me smile.

Strands of Fate and Other Things

The last entry of my blog was posted on May, 16th, more than a month ago. It was so little ago and so long ago. Much has changed since then. Life intruded for once, and the group changed for another. It is one of the vissicitudes of life. Nowadays, groups are less static than they were a few years ago, or at least mine is. The core group remains unchanged but others come and go. Either family, work or any other element forces a change. In other cases, I burn out of a particular game.

Let's face it, I was never a single-game player. I like to play things, I like to try out new things. Not everything suits me, but had I the time, and more money than I could shake a stick at so I wouldn't have to work, I would buy a lot more than I have gathering dust on my shelves. And I would play a lot more. Don't get me wrong. This is not a compulsive desire to have something that looses its appeal once I buy it. I genuinely enjoy reading new systems, to try out new things, to change genres, much like I never go see the same movie genre all the time.

Change is good, at least for me. It keeps me from burning out. And so, taking a break from out game of AD&D, we decided to try other things. I am a fan of wuxia (chinese martial arts fantasy), and I love the Chinese mythology and ancient culture. I have played Chinese-themed games in the past like Qin or Weapons of the Gods. One of my best campaigns was set in ancient china during the Warring States period, so when some of my players began pressuring me start a new wuxia campaign it was just a matter of finding out the best system to do it.

A few years ago, I became also a great fan of FATE, but none of the current iterations of the system were quite what I was looking for: Spirit of the Century is pulp in the 20s, Diaspora is hard sci-fi and the Dresden Files is urban fantasy. Only Legends of Anglerre with its fantasy tropes could fill the void, with enough changes and adaptation as it is more suited to any type of classic fantasy campaign. Then along came Strands of Fate, and I glimpsed immediately all sorts of potential genres that could be emulated by it. You see, Strands of Fate, or SoF for short, is FATE-based, highly changed generic system. I created several characters in several genres and I like the result. The players seemed curious enough to try it.

So, a new page turns. Gone are the days of warriors and wizards, of orcs and goblins, of fallen kingdoms and might realms, of worlds of dragons and dungeons. On a more specific note, I will expand the blog to talk about anything game related, not just AD&D. I love roleplaying games too much to limit myself to one specific topic. So, while I may be playing a particular game, in any given time, I will talk about anything that strikes my fancy. I also enjoy writing on this blog (more than I anticipated). That's one more reason to keep it going. I hope you continue enjoy reading it and enjoying it as much as I do writing it.

Having Fun With The Game

On his blog, Alexander Schiebel writes about knowing your players to make sure each and every one of them has fun at the table. In other words, knowing what they like and want from the game and provide it. It's indeed the gamemaster's responsibility to know what the players want from the game he is currently running, whether that is an old-school dungeon crawl, a space opera with lots of action and derring-do or a game of intrigue and conspiracies. A story should be based on the players' wants and somehow tied to their character concept. The players' involvement in the story is proportional to how deep they relate to it.

Even if the gamemaster sets a baseline ("My campaign will be about a group of fortune seekers and treasure hunters exploring lost ruins and underground temples"), the players should have a lot of leeway on how to play this type of game. One could favor combat and want to see lots of action, another could seek magic items because he wants to feel powerful, and yet a third could want to flex his creative muscles and solve puzzles. Short of asking outright, how does a gamemaster figure out what each player wants from his game? Simply by looking at their character sheets. That player created a fighter? He wants action scenes, to face oponents in battle and be the group's defender. How about that player who spent his points in Knowledge skills and Lost Artifact Lore? He wants to figure out things, to delve into the past and find powerful artifacts. A player created a courtier and has high charisma? He wants to interact with NPCs, to manipulate them, to make or break alliances, to speak for the group.

Sometimes a player will create a character that he does not want to play just because the group needs one more fighter or magic-user. Resist the urge to do that. Never force a player to play something against his will. An unhappy player will not have fun at the game table and will, possibly, drag down the campaign. Always try to accommodate the player's tastes within the context of the campaign. In my AD&D 1 ed. campaign, I even let players be assassins and half-orcs if they want. That provides an interesting element of conflict both within and without the group. Perhaps in my world, half-orcs are accepted but somewhat feared. Perhaps an assassin can find a compelling reason to associate with good characters. Strive to find what it is that the player wants from the game, give it to him and he'll be happy.

Weave stories or events around the player-characters not the other way around. Even in the most simple of stories, you can find something to hook the player. For instance, in my current Greyhawk campaign, one of the players - a fighter - was attacked by an evil cleric. The player realized the cleric was possibly wearing a magic plate mail armor. He immediately wanted to have it. He set himself that goal. As a gamemaster, it is my job to make sure it is possible for him to get the armor but also to make it difficult. That NPC will return. Perhaps the characters will hear from him again, either through his minions or in person. His story will be interwoven with that of the player-character. Perhaps he will become a recurrent villain.

But here's a crazy notion: it is also the player's responsibility to entertain the gamesmaster, to create interesting characters and play with gusto. Players should have dramatic flair or be creative. They should follow the gamemaster's hooks (after all, they are there so that the players are happy about the game). Failing that, they should set their own goals. Keep the story moving. As a gamemaster, I want to be surprised. When something happens that I was not prepared for, it is much more fun for me. It keeps me involved, trying to follow what the players are doing, to come up with things to stay one step ahead of them. Each gamemaster will be entertained in different manners. Find about yours, tell it to the players and you'll have much more fun if the players play with you, not against you.

In order to entertain the gamemaster, the players must accept his campaign premise. After all, the gamemaster also wants to play a game and a certain type of story and it won't be much fun for him if he's running a game of investigation when he would rather be playing a game of fantasy and action. The campaign premise should satisfy everyone at the table and, in order for that to happen, a certain amount of give and take must occur until everyone is happy. Then, the players must play their characters within the context of that premise, being funny, serious, dramatic, proactive, reactive, and so on, but still respecting what the gamesmaster wants to play. They should not be disruptive, accept each other's ideas and feed on each other's energy at the table to create an entertaining session.

In the end, at the table, all are responsible for the success or failure of a campaign, and it's not fair to blame just the GM or the players. I end with a quote from the Advanced Dungeons & Dragons 1st edition Player's Guide. It applies to every campaign I know of:

"There is nothing quite like a successful D8D campaign, and its success is based upon the efforts of all participants. The Dungeon Master is pivotal, of course, but the players are just as important, for they are the primary actors and actresses in the fascinating drama which unfolds before them. For that reason, their outlook and their conduct will greatly affect the flavor and tempo of the campaign. Accordingly, they should do their best to further the success of the entire undertaking."

Gary Gygax