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.

Comedy of Horrors

Today I participated in a meeting of several roleplaying groups under the theme Horror and the Fantastic. Being so close to the Halloween, this was only fitting. I took a break from preparing Numenera to run a session of Trail of Cthulhu. I used a Purist adventure called the The Dance in the Blood. For those who don't know, in Trail of Cthulhu there are two modes: the Purist mode, typical Lovecraft, in which the investigators will never make a difference, their efforts are futile and all their beliefs will be rendered null at the end of the scenario, and the Pulp mode, in which the investigators have a fighting chance, they will go down but with guns blazing, it's a mode designed to simulate Robert E. Howard's Mythos stories. You can mix and match several modular rules to achieve the proper mode or anything in between.

As I stated, we were playing in full Purist mode (and the game was advertised as such), meaning the investigators would be trying to solve the case and reach the final revelation before going mad or dying. Everyone knew the story would not end happily, although the characters would have a chance to solve the case, they would not survive unscathed.

It's was a public place. I don't like playing Trail of Cthulhu with background noise. I like my Trail of Cthulhu sessions in a quiet place to achieve the proper mood and immersion. These notwithstanding, we did quite well. There were three players: two girls and a guy, not that it matters, but I think Mythos games tend to attract a higher ratio of girls. The girls were doing quite well, but for some reason the guy was not, breaking constantly the mood and telling jokes. I ignored some of it at the beginning for the simple reason that I was playing in a public meeting and we don't get to choose the players. It's a a demo session, after all. However, the silly behavior was annoying me.

I had to pause the game to remind the players (I avoided talking directly to THAT player) that they were also responsible for preserving the mood and horror of the game. Despite the many nods, he didn't stop. He wasn't being a jerk. He thought it was only natural since it's "just" a game, and people play to have fun. To him, fun obviously equates to telling constant jokes and distracting other players. He finally admitted it was a sort of defense mechanism much like when we say something funny when the tension is unbearable. Not that it was that, we playing in a public place and all.

He was also the first player I met who actively resisted the system. In other words, he didn't think his character should loose Stability EVER, he justified every Stability loss with some logical reason (in his mind). It went something like this:

Keeper: "You finally understand YOU are a monster beneath your human skin."

Player: "Ah, I would never lose Stability because I already had a dream about it so I'm used to it."

And this went on and on and on specially during the climatic encounter when revelations were coming fast and loose. Nevertheless, the girls were doing OK and much of what worked in that session was because of them. They were roleplaying their characters, they were investigating, the reacted adequately to every situation even in sanity-shaking moments.

My point being that some players don't really understand Call of Cthulhu or Trail of Cthulhu. It's not a game for everyone (worse still in Purist mode). However, some people also don't seem to get that their inability to play a certain game should never be an excuse to drag down the game and annoy the other players. Just walk away please or better yet, make sure you, at least, enjoy the premise before signing to play. I would be less miffed if he would be honest and say something like "Sorry guys, this game isn't for me, I'm bowing out".

Retrospective: Shadow World Master Atlas

My recent posts here and here concerning my Numenera campaign brought back memories of an old setting favorite of mine: Shadow World. Published by Iron Crown Enterprises (ICE) in boxed set format, it caught my attention at a time when I was being introduced to roleplaying games. Prior to 1990, I had only played the Dungeons & Dragons red box.

At the time, this boxed set was dual stated for Rolemaster and Hero System. I recall visiting my local game store with two friends. Each of us had decided to buy a different game so we could each take turns as GMs. I bought Middle Earth Roleplaying (MERP), another bought Shadowrun (1st edition) and the third bought the Hero System plus Fantasy Hero. He also bought Shadow World. This was my first contact with the setting, although I never had a chance to be a player in it. Instead, my friend decided that being a GM was too much work and I borrowed his books.

I played a lot of MERP in those days before finally getting my hands on a copy of Call of Cthulhu. My gaming priorities shifted from fantasy to horror. Even though I occasionally tried other systems (the occasional AD&D one-shot or a few sessions of Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay), my heart was set in Call of Cthulhu and I never looked back.

However, I read the Shadow World boxed set. I even managed to pull myself from Call of Cthulhu for a week or two to try and create characters with my players (one was a centaur, as I remember) but, alas, it never came to pass. And yet, I enjoyed the setting a lot. It was a typical ICE product with a lot of emphasis on minutia such as flora, fauna and weather patterns. I was used to such information from the MERP books, although in retrospective much of that is unnecessary to create a good campaign and useless to all but the most detailed-obsessed readers. The layout was two blocky columns with a minuscule font filled with page after page of stats. Taking a cue from AD&D's Monster Manual, it even had stats for the deities, although I suspect (my memory is a bit hazy) that those were more super-beings than divine beings.

Shadow World was a typical high fantasy world where magic coexisted with psionics and divine spells so it could make full use of the Spell Law book from Rolemaster with its three schools of magic: Mentalism (psionics), Essence (magic) and Channeling (divine). Most of the standard fantasy races such as elves, dwarves and hobbits were also present as well as the more commonly known fantasy creatures, such as trolls, orcs and dragons.

In retrospect, what fascinated me most about it were the science-fiction elements. They were subdued, of course, but they were there. Kulthea (the main planet) had been colonized by beings from a galactic empire in the distant past, some of who were still alive working in the shadows. Technology from that empire could still be found in remote place and deep in underground dungeons. Unlike my present game, Numenera, the system made no distinction between these technological artifacts and magic items, but the very notion of them being there was enough to pull me into the world. I could envision fantastic underground structures with sleek corridors and technical panels, forgotten tombs with mechanical guardians and all sorts of mysterious technologies. The moon of Orhan, where super-beings live, is described as possibly having been terraformed a long time ago.

In Numenera, the world is a fantastic place shaped visibly by impossibly advanced technologies. In Shadow World, the world feels more "natural" because the sci-fi elements are more subdued. They are there to be sure, but the setting never strays far from its fantasy roots, focusing on high fantasy rather than a melange of both genres. I can still find some inspiration there, as my recent posts attest, and I still find it a good setting to create adventures and even very adaptable to other systems (as was the original intent). It is one of my top five fantasy settings even if it's not one of the most original out there.

In praise of Grognardia

I don't remember how I came across Grognardia, James Malizsewski's blog about old school gaming. I don't even remember if I learned about the blog's existence before I began playing AD&D 1st edition two years ago or if I was surfing the web looking for old school gaming advice after I started playing AD&D 1st edition. What I can say with certainty is that Grognardia was a source of inspiration and entertainment for a good many months, mostly between 2010 and the end of the blog in 2012. I was reading it even before I knew what OSR (Old School Renaissance) was. I wasn't part of that movement. My reading of the blog was more of an attempt to learn about that nebulous period (for me) that encompasses the origins of the hobby, from circa 1974, to the mid-1980s.

I came relatively late to the hobby around 1989 with Frank Mentzer's Dungeons & Dragons red box and skipped right to Middle Earth roleplaying game (MERP), then Call of Cthulhu. I never played Advanced Dungeons & Dragons regularly, except for the occasional one-shot scenario during the second edition years. Fantasy-wise I was mostly a MERP and Warhammer Roleplaying game fan, although most of my hobby time was devoted to Call of Cthulhu. My serious involvement with old school gaming, to the extent that involvement implies not only playing the game, but also reading about the early days and its key figures, began in 2010.

In the end, it matters little how I discovered Grognardia. What matters is that the blog was my go-to blog for a few months. It was inspirational reading and many a night I spent pouring through hundreds of articles. I learned more about funhouse dungeons, what particular historical context a certain module was published in, who some of the most influencial figures of the early days of the hobby were, and many other facts. I learned to what extent the Dragonlance modules influenced TSR to go from a dungeon-oriented model to a story-oriented module, I learned some entertaining facts about those who tackled the legendary Tomb of Horrors and something about the history of the long lost Greyhawk campaign.

Its influence on the whole OSR movement, of which James Maliszewski was a fierce proponent, is undeniable. Now that the blog seems to be dead, I join others like Once More Unto the Breach in remembering. Would you care to share some of own your memories about Grognardia?

Combat: The bane of roleplaying?

One thing I hear a lot goes something like this (not exact words): "We were roleplaying the scene when suddenly combat broke out. After we killed / drove off / defeated the enemy, we resumed our roleplaying of the scene."

I am always perplexed by this way of thinking. It's not universal but it's more frequent than we think. What does it even mean? People are roleplaying their PCs' interactions with NPCs and when combat starts, roleplaying ceases to be and it all becomes a tactical / mechanical game? Is combat mutually exclusive from roleplaying? In my opinion, no, and it's a fallacy to play any roleplaying game based on this false assumption. It's true that I see this more often in games like D&D and GURPS where the rules that govern combat are more complex and extensive, so there might be a reason why people stop thinking in terms of roleplaying during combat when they are forced to micromanage an endless rooster of mechanics. On the other hand, it's perfectly possible, and even preferable, to maintain a modicum of roleplaying during physical conflicts of any sort.

People who consider combat extraneous to roleplaying are splitting up what are essentially two complementary elements. Everything should flow naturally from one scene to the next, and roleplaying should be always on the forefront. After all, if roleplaying is acting like a character would in any situation, why would the character stop acting the way he does in combat? In the reality of the setting, does the character thinks in terms of turns, rounds, the mechanical bonuses of his sword or the level of the opponent to determine spell resistance? No, he thinks in terms of moments, of how sharp or strong his sword is or how tough or mind-resilient his opponent is. He would think in terms of the elements natural to the setting. The mechanics don't exist in the setting, though they exist in the game to define what is permissible in the setting.

This is why so many roleplaying games take the time to encourage the players to describe their actions in combat, to embellish what is happening. Otherwise, combat turns into an exercise of cold management of mechanics and bonus crunching. And this is why so many players complain that combat cease to be roleplaying and turns into a boring tactical conflict. There's nothing wrong with tactics. It's even encouraged in some systems. What I contend is that both can coexist.

Perhaps it would be more helpful to think in terms of social and physical conflicts. These terms do not preclude roleplaying, so they are not so restrictive in the mind of the players. In both types of conflicts, rules are called for and applied. I roll Persuasion to convince an NPC of something he does not believe in (Social) and I roll my Sword to attack an NPC who doesn't want to be hit (Conflict). In both cases, I'm acting against an NPC and that NPC is an obstacle to what I want to do. In both cases, I always consider what my character is doing or thinking before I act. And this includes speaking IN CHARACTER. The character shouts orders to his men in combat, he/she runs to a beloved friend to protect him from the orcs and he cries in anguish when an ally falls down.

To sum up: combat is not a game apart from the main game, where the act of roleplaying is diminished or even banned, not matter how tactical it gets. It should be an opportunity to highlight those traits that are not evident in more social occasions ("I hunger for the blood of fallen enemies"). It should be as heroic or as grim as the game allows and encourage roleplay in that sense. It should also be acting in character. Remove roleplaying from combat and you're just using mechanics and moving pieces like a chessboard. In this sense, it ceases to be a roleplaying game. You might as well be playing a boardgame.

What do you think?

Trying a New System: GURPS

As I approach the end of the year, I review the last twelve months in game terms. The truth is I didn't play a whole lot. The first few months are a blur, then I started a Deadlands Reloaded campaign which didn't end well and then a short hiatus from September until now during which I ran a short Eclipse Phase one-shot. It was not a very productive year in terms of roleplaying games, which was worse than last year (at least, I completed a short Trail of Cthulhu campaign).

Between March 2011 and today I have played The Complete Masks of Nyarlathotep for Call of Cthulhu (which ended abruptly), Cthulhu Apocalypse for Trail of Cthulhu (successfully completed). Our group tried Primetime Adventures in a steampunk setting. The system didn't work for us. We also tried Strands of Fate and never made it past the first session. This year I returned to a more classic system with the aforementioned Deadlands Reloaded for Savage Worlds. We played around 6-7 sessions, before I pulled the plug.

Now, I find myself reading GURPS aka Generic Universal Roleplaying System. I think I've been trying too hard to find a game that suited my group's tastes. We never played more than a half a dozen sessions of a particular system, and I attribute that to the disconnect between us and the systems we have tested so far. It's not that my group is devoid of creativity and imagination. It's just that some systems are ill-suited to our playing style. The bottom line is: our group enjoys classic systems, you know, the ones where the game master really acts like a game master, by introducing scenes and directing the story (don't confuse this with railroading), and running the world with the players playing their characters and influencing the world through their actions.

Of all the systems we tried this past year and a half, only Savage Worlds and Call of Cthulhu fall into this category. And, in the former, I ended the campaign abruptly for reasons that have nothing to do with the system qualities and everything to do with the awful "railroadiness" of the published campaign we were playing (The Flood, if you must know) and, in the case of Call of Cthulhu, the campaign just fizzled when one of the players couldn't play anymore.

Instead of trying to find the perfect system to play (whatever that means), I tried to find the perfect system for us. And that system, ladies and gentlemen, is GURPS. Yes, the venerable and old generic system from Steve Jackson Games finally fell into my hands, I read it from cover to cover (actually, from covers to covers since the system is two books) and I really enjoyed it. In fact, I am running a fantasy one-shot called A Caravan to Ein Arris, which was included in 3rd edition, now made available for free in SJG site and the group is involved and having a lot of fun. I'm already planning a space opera campaign, a steampunk campaign stealing ideas from our PTA game and a cyberpunk campaign.

The main reason to use a generic system is one of practicality and convenience. Each time I want to play a new setting, I have to read a new system. Sometimes, this means reading a 300-page rulebook for a campaign that may or may not materialize. This way, even if we only play a one-shot or a small campaign, we can relax in knowing that the rules won't change and the players won't be forced to learn a new set of rules for our next campaign.

So, from now on, this blog won't be so focused on AD&D. You'll read a lot more about GURPS and my experiences with the system as I develop the campaign. But I also intend to cover many RPG topics as suit my tastes. Hopefully, our group will have fun once again playing and I can write here on a regular basis.

Burning Wheel - A New Beginning

In a rapid turn of events, but not completely out of my control, our Friday night Skype game was changed from AD&D to Burning Wheel. Yes, I know. It was not supposed to be but I came to the conclusion our group, as a whole, is more into games where they have a larger degree of narrative control and where story trumps random events.

This was barely noticeable in our first sessions, but as  time went by, I become more and more aware that they enjoyed the game while they were at the Keep on the Borderlands than when they were fighting monsters and looking for treasure. This is not to blame the game itself, but the group subconsciously gravitated towards situations they wanted to see in-game. Now, we all know AD&D has lots of interaction with NPCs, but at the same time, the exploration element, the mapping of the dungeon, the loot and all the little quirky rules contribute significantly to one's enjoyment of AD&D 1E.

However, the players tended to stay in the fort, talking to NPCs, finding more about the realm's religions and trying to weave their little tales of intrigue around the place. I dangled a few carrots in front of their noses, and for the most part went along, but there's a significant diffence between a highly motivated player and one that, while still enjoying the game, is merely following the gamemaster's hooks. So, after inquiring around, we came to realize that the players really wanted to weave their own tales, in their own setting, while still retaining a sense of fantastic adventure. For all that AD&D does well, it does not do what we really want out of a story. Some elements do not mesh well with our creative sensibility (alignments being one and the rigid classes being another). It's not a bad game, in fact I still enjoy it immensely, but it's not for my group.

Therefore, we decided to turn our attention to Burning Wheel, a game where the players and characters fight for their beliefs. What does this mean to this blog? Nothing much. I still continue reading the Dragon magazine, I still read retro-clones and AD&D 1E so I'll keep writing about that and whatever strikes my fancy. After all, The Paladin in the Bag isn't just about AD&D but also about roleplaying games in all forms.

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

Literature: Designers and Dragons

It's not a literary work but it's not a gaming product either. Sometime ago, a friend of mine lent me a copy of this Designers and Dragons, by Shannon Appelcline, spanning the entire story of our hobby with occasional incursions into wargamming and boardgames. There is no other way to put it: it's a monumental work. The book is a 400-page thick volume, covering the most influent companies that helped shape roleplaying games from the early days to today. It begins, quite naturally, with TSR: how D&D evolved from Chainmail; how Gygax and friends managed their business in the 70s; the company's evolution throughout the 80s and 90s. It is a very complete account, and this is only one of the many companies this book covers.

The book is divided in time periods, even if a company's history extends throughout several time periods. For instance, the first wave, which begins in 1970, includes those companies that first appeared on the scene and set the foundations for later companies, such as TSR, Judges Guild, GDW, Games Workshop or Flying Buffalo. The second wave includes those companies that were most influential to the hobby in the 80s but among them is Avalon Hill, founded in 1958. This organization is very clear and helps relate which company did what in what period, and how it contributed to roleplaying games.

A recurrent pattern I noticed in most these accounts is the meteoric rise of a company, then a period of financial difficulties and, later, the fall. Either the company is sold (like TSR) or just dissolved (like Judges Guild). Others, like Steve Jackson, turn to more profitable products. Others still, linger in a sort of limbo, trying to recover from bad decisions and other missteps, such as Palladium.

My interest on this book was partly derived by my interest in knowing the history of those companies that contributed to my gaming career, and whose games I played the most - Chaosium (Call of Cthulhu), ICE (MERP), West End Games (Star Wars, Torg), Pinnacle (Savage Worlds, Deadlands) and a few others - but also because of my recent interest in old school companies, as pertains to this blog.

There aren't enough words of praise for this work. Whether you read it wholesale or pick and read only those companies that interest you most, there's something here that everyone will find interesting. As I said, this is a monumental work, and I can only imagine how many hours of research and lengthy interviews were involved in creating this book. Kudos to Shannon. Highly recommended.