In design, the greatest tool for improving a game is iteration. There are very few games that are completely, objectively perfect, if any at all. Iteration is vital to improving upon an existing game, from the smallest parts to entirely new editions and systems; however, this concept can be equally staggering as it is interesting. It’s dangerous to go alone, take this guide and make the first steps of evolving yourself from player to designer. When a player enters an area, more often than not their immediate response is to examine what they can approach first, and how they can interact with that stimulus to garner a positive effect. With more options, more time is taken to make a decision. Such is the simplicity of Hick’s Law, the time it takes to make a decision increases as the number of alternatives increases. Mathematically, this is often portrayed as the Hick-Hyman Law in the following formula: T = b * log2 (n + 1) T would represent the reaction time taken to choose among n choices appropriately. In this example, b is a constant that can be determined by empirically fitting a line to measured data, log2 is the performance of a binary search, and the +1 is to represent the uncertainty of whether or not to respond, as well as what choice to make. For this reason, I would never place my players in a supermarket and ask them to pick out food. Without any qualifiers, the players realize that they can pick out any number of foods, regardless of cost, based on their whimsy, throughout any aisle, without a time limit. The entire session would be spent waiting for players to decide how their characters would eat. However, if I were to add limitations to their search, the entire section would take much less time and effort. By limiting the amount of food they could buy to a set dollar amount ($15), and the amount of time they have to choose (20 minutes), the focus becomes much more apparent, and the time taken decreases drastically. If players were to walk into a room and there are fifteen enemies, they would be overwhelmed as to where to start fighting first. This denotes that the only description of the room was “There are fifteen enemies”. By elucidating this concept, the players are able to make a more informed decision, more quickly. The worst way to describe this would be to tell the actual numbers. The best way to do so would be to lead with descriptions. A GM that enlightens their players to the numbers behind the screen is simply breaking immersion. For example, “Well these guys only have three hit points, so you can probably bash them quick.” The easiest way to do so would be to describe based on size, relative description, or comparable height to the player. “Well, there are five thugs roughly your shape, five thugs a bit bigger than you, and five of the biggest thugs you’ve ever seen.” The alternatives have now dwindled, as the player will be able to accurately discern how to approach the group based on their relevance to the proposed choices. While they are not thinking in terms of how many options do I have and they are thinking of how dangerous my options are, the alternatives represent choices the player would logically not make.
If a player were to be set in a bustling town with three taverns and six shops and fifteen unnamed buildings, all with different interesting people to meet and things to see, the options would become paralyzing. Especially considering the time limits of most sessions, the longer they wait to choose of the multitudinous options, the more stressed they become to make any decision, let alone the right one. A GM could propose a motivation to the players to visit specific areas based on their objective tasks and motivations. If there are eighteen sites to visit, all of equal interest, the choice is bogged down. If there are eighteen sites to visit, and the player has a good idea of what they would most likely enjoy, ascertain, or gather, the choice becomes much clearer. The idea is to give less quantity and not less quality on both approaches. Having a million places to visit and things to do rounds down to similar experiences in each to accomplish purpose of the areas, rather than experiences gained. The question to ask is which choices reflect a good decision, and how that is accomplished. Enjoy our content? Have something to add? Join the forums and let us know! We also have positions available for contributors and writers. Inquire within to become a StrMod contributor today!
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In design, the greatest tool for improving a game is iteration. There are very few games that are completely, objectively perfect, if any at all. Iteration is vital to improving upon an existing game, from the smallest parts to entirely new editions and systems; however, this concept can be equally staggering as it is interesting. It’s dangerous to go alone, take this guide and make the first steps of evolving yourself from player to designer. When drawing the eye of the player, things that stand out will stand out, whereas common elements will continue to be common. While it may attract their attention, this will also attract their ability to remember. This is also known as the von Restorff Effect, a phenomenon of memory in which noticeably different things are more likely to be recalled than common things. Most often used in marketing, the von Restorff Effect is used in such examples as contrasting something that is aesthetically “clean” or organized with something that is visually engaging. When listing something, items at the beginning or end of a list are naturally more easily memorable than items in the middle of a list, unless the middle items are different. While best used visually, this can be used in description to place a visual in the mind of a player when artistically unavailable. While a giant, throbbing, red area of the final boss might be the most likely area of doing noticeable damage, it is immersion-breaking in that there is no reason for such an area to be giant, red, and throbbing. Here's an example. The players walk into a rather well-furnished room of an important person. Within the room, they found a very nice couch, a meticulously organized desk, an ornate and decorated gun hanging above the fireplace, a desk with a lamp, and a well-suited rug. Of the previous description, the most memorable element would be the gun above the fireplace. It is not a piece of furniture, it is the only piece that can be held and inspected by the player easily, and it is concertedly more interesting than other such furnishings of the room. Most importantly, while it is still a furnishing, it is not a piece of furniture in the mind of the reader. I could continue to use that gun in any aspect of the life of the important person. I could also trick the players into viewing it and have it have no real connection to any other section of the game, making it a Red Herring. Most importantly, in three sentences, I have delivered a concrete piece for the rest of the session that the players will naturally and organically assume is important. In any setting or any establishment, easiest way to describe something and have it exist as relevantly more catching than other elements would be to “highlight” the element. In that sentence, the word “highlight” is bolded, to catch your eye, and make you focus on the point of my statement without having to do extra work.
If the players are looking at a garden, and there are green vegetables, and green leaves falling from the brown oak tree, with a single patch of red roses in the middle, surrounded by a small white fence, they will notice the roses. The scientific reason behind this would be that I led the statement with something that is green, and contrasted the natural setting with green’s complimentary colorred, then finishing with a rather basic staple of a garden being a generic fence. The roses did not have to be red, per se; they simply had to be different than everything else. As the only element that is red, it is naturally attractive. Rather than having a series of elements that has subtlety to their differences, the most catching and immediate memory-catcher would be having something that is unnatural blended with something that is natural. If I have a box of shapes, one square, one circle, one rhombus, one rectangle, and a shape of indiscernible points and edges that makes my eyes lose focus as I gaze into its many compartments, I would very likely have forgotten what the second shape was in this statement without looking at it again. I am obviously much more interested in the element that is fascinating rather than the elements that are common, natural, or understandable. Then again, it is awfully hard to make shapes interesting as a description runs long without something being rather different. These effects are mostly used when describing an area, as description and placing a thematic setting in the mind of the player is one of the largest and most difficult aspects of tabletop gaming. However, with proper use, the players will naturally lead themselves towards the intended target, simply by memorizing the pieces. Enjoy our content? Have something to add? Join the forums and let us know! We also have positions available for contributors and writers. Inquire within to become a StrMod contributor today! In design, the greatest tool for improving a game is iteration. There are very few games that are completely, objectively perfect, if any at all. Iteration is vital to improving upon an existing game, from the smallest parts to entirely new editions and systems; however, this concept can be equally staggering as it is interesting. It’s dangerous to go alone, take this guide and make the first steps of evolving yourself from player to designer. A common misconception is that complexity is a 1:1 ratio for depth. Depth is the amount of different aspects and interests that can be explored from a design, which can also come from the very simplest of designs. By stripping away everything that is unnecessary, we can fully and succinctly examine the most interesting parts of the games, the core, and the focus of the experience that can be garnered. Ockham’s Razor, or the principle of parsimony, is assertion of simplicity of design over complexity of design. The design definition of Ockham’s Razor (Also known as Occam’s Razor and lex parsimoniae) is given a choice between functionally equivalent designs, the simplest design should be selected. Simply stated, unnecessary elements decrease a design’s efficiency. I rather enjoyed playing Ni No Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch. I found the experience to be very fun, and an engaging story told by the beautiful and masterful Studio Ghibli. Something I did not enjoy is how every three hours in the eighty-hour game, a new feature was added and implemented to increase the complexity of the game. What started as “Get familiars, train familiars, beat up other familiars” wrapped around an endearing story of a boy and his mother turned into “Get familiars. Here’s another character to control, but she is far weaker than you. Press these four buttons to make everyone defend. Here’s another character to control, but he is far weaker than you. Feed your familiars specific random foods to increase one of ten stats. Evolve your familiars by using one of eight stones. There are three types of evolutions. Here’s another character to control, but he arrived 85% into the game. Read an in-game book to discern this riddle. Have fifteen more useless spells.” Did I mention that I enjoyed this game? I find myself needing to repeat that statement. Based on the wall of text alone, there is nothing that seems enjoyable about that complex series of actions. However, the designers found it necessary to consistently add elements, therefore adding complexity, therefore theoretically increasing the experience garnered by the player. I would have been perfectly fine with just capturing and training my familiars though.
Design of Puzzles: Simple puzzles, simple solutions. The best puzzles and traps come from a player thinking “It was so simple, how did I not see it!” The difficulty for most interactions comes from the analysis of problem and reaching the primed answer. The difficulty should not particularly come from collecting specific pieces from the ends of the earth to form the right key. By allowing the players to create their own depth from simple concepts, the complexity becomes organic and fluent rather than forced. If a pool is one-thousand miles long, but only holds a foot of water, it will be a sloshing walk across a thousand miles rather than a pleasant swim. Design on Paper: The largest problem comes from trying to incorporate too much. Ambition is the number one killer of projects. Ockham’s Razor takes into account that a design does not need a million moving parts, but specific core concepts that can be elaborated upon throughout interaction. Before adding a new feature, designers would benefit from asking the simple question of “By adding this, what new actions can my players take? A game should consistently be described as the actions the player can take. If your game takes place in the magical world of Fakevillia with ancient dragons and endless loot tables and specialized math for determining damage and three-hundred pages of character creation, I haven’t heard anything about what makes the game a game, as none of those are meaningful actions taken while playing it. This is not to say that every game in the universe should be Tetris. This is simply to state that there are core concepts of actions that will promote the experience intended, and these concepts should be focused over all other aspects in designing games. Enjoy our content? Have something to add? Join the forums and let us know! We also have positions available for contributors and writers. Inquire within to become a StrMod contributor today! Game design is a series of universal theories that can be applied to any facet of play, yet most people think the disparity between video games and tabletop games is too large to broach. Rather than seeing these concepts as a dividing line, let's take a look at some concepts often speculated to be solely digital and bring them into the tabletop environment. The phrase “The Devil is in the details” refers to a catch, or a mysterious element that exists within the detail of a set of information, be that visual or otherwise. Within that, if one is to remove all of “The Details”, they are simply left with “The Devil”. So leads to the concept of horror vacui, a Latin expression meaning “Fear of emptiness/empty space”. In design, as well as in visual art, horror vacui is a tendency to favor filling blank spaces with objects and elements over leaving the same spaces blank or empty. Universally in concepts of design, there is a prevalence to strip away the unnecessary elements. Cutting back from the noise of non-useful elements will lead to a more functional and sleek design, oozing with purpose and importance. Within that horror vacui is a strange and compelling phenomenon to add instead of take away for fear of the absence of elements. For this, I would again like to bring up the differences between the horrifying elements of a game like Silent Hill 2 versus the fear elements of Resident Evil 5. I have chosen these two examples for prevalence among game consumers as well as exemplary depictions of both concepts. Silent Hill 2, as a concept, largely attempts to isolate the player and make them feel alone, from both interactivity and suspicion, to the point of tensions leaping from the unknowing fog at any time. It is a lack of stimulus that drives the fear of the game, as the player feels constant disconnection from a town that should otherwise be active. On top of that, there is an unsettling fascination with things that should be but simply are not. While the monsters are certainly scary in Silent Hill 2 for fear of their deadliness and the imminent failure-state that they represent to the player, the people of Silent Hill 2 are unsettling and disturbing in a different way, representing something that is simply wrong, from the way that others talk to the titular moment of the phrase "There was a hole here. It's gone now." Resident Evil 5 approaches a more active role in the fear that it tries to promote, in that the game begins with Chris “Refrigerator Arms” Redfield and Sheva entering a strange town filled with uncomfortable sights, such as leaking sacks and general unrest amongst the locals. Shortly thereafter, a fight breaks out, and the pair must maneuver their way through using the weapons available to them. That fight then continues for the duration of the game, moving from one action set piece to the next.
Silent Hill 2 strips away the potential for a player to interact within the world, which in turn makes the world more terrifying. The villains are vaguely human, but not enough to discern real characteristics. The town is empty, but the player constantly feels as if danger is right around the corner. In that, the emptiness of the game is the direct proponent for the psychological tension that is derived from the opening scenes. Let me stress this fact, if the above was not clear: There is nothing more unsettling to a player than not knowing what to do next, or not having a clear idea of their immediate threat. If the player is never able to correctly identify the threat, they maintain in a state of hypervigilance, leading to a constant machination of tension. Horror vacui, in a less interesting manner, can be used to promote the value of one option over another. In theory, this practice of adding value by subtracting other perceived value. The lack of options causes one to focus more heavily on the options at hand. This can also be used to inspire importance to specific options when leading through narrative. If the players have one-hundred places to visit, each place loses intrinsic value. Tell a player that they need to cross through a park to find a MacGuffin on the other side. Then, as they travel through the park, emphasize that they lose awareness of how far they have traveled and how far they must further travel. Something they understand (a park) has now created new and strange dimensions (emptiness) which leads to a sense of aimlessness and feeling lost. Push this too far and it will turn to frustration, but keep it correctly balanced and the player will hold their tension for the whole game. Have you run a horror game lately? Do you find the genre interesting or boring? What is the best horror experience you've ever had in gaming? Let us know in the comments! Enjoy our content? Have something to add? Join the forums and let us know! We also have positions available for contributors and writers. Inquire within to become a StrMod contributor today! Game design is a series of universal theories that can be applied to any facet of play, yet most people think the disparity between video games and tabletop games is too large to broach. Rather than seeing these concepts as a dividing line, let's take a look at some concepts often speculated to be solely digital and bring them into the tabletop environment. Games are often declared as methods for escapism, relinquishing reality in the aspects of gaining fantasy. However, this notion excludes an entirely different type of experience, where the player leaves their reality to operate within another setting, a representational reality. In that concept is Simulation, a procedural representation of reality in a fictional setting. Warren Robinett, designer and programmer best known for the Atari 2600 game Adventure, is particularly fascinated with the concept of simulation as a play experience. In his book Inventing The Adventure Game, he defines simulation as the following: “A video game is an imaginary world: its inhabitants are nonexistent creatures that nevertheless the eye can see, and the hand can move. It is imaginary in the sense that there is no solid reality behind the picture. A bouncing ball may be faithfully simulated, but that moving blip of light has no real mass or elasticity. In that sentiment, Robinett proposes that games, particularly video games in his example, are not real life; they are simply a metaphor for what real life can represent, based on simulation. In Robinett’s definition, as a game is simply a metaphor, it would call that all games are a simulation, regardless of physics or laws of the universe, and simulated entirely based on the rules-as-written by the code that presents the game in its form. Eric Addinall, Henry Ellington, and Fred Percival further define the concept of a simulation in their collaborative work A Handbook of Game Design, with the following definition: “A simulation can be defined as ‘an operating representation of central features of reality’. This definition again identifies two central features that must both exist before an exercise can reasonably be described as a simulation. First, it must represent an actual situation of some sort—either a situation drawn directly from real life, or an imaginary situation that conceivably could be drawn from real life (invasion by extraterrestrial beings, for example). It is important, the definition above adapted from the definition of these authors, that simulation changes from “representing reality” to “representing central features of reality”, allowing the game itself to move away from what would be considered “real events” and allowing creative freedom, simply representing a reality rather than adhering towards a reality. In that, the authors agree with Robinett, that a game is a metaphor for reality, concepts that could be considered real events, rather than a straight simulation of reality itself. By identifying that a simulation must constitute an on-going process, a simulation then requires something to differentiate itself from that of a series of moving pictures to become a simulation to the user rather than a viewer of content. In this example, the on-going process is “play”, and the ludic experience derived from that state of play.
The largest divide between “simulationist play” and other forms of play, when discussing tabletop, would be the concept that simluationist play directly represents reality in the rules that the type of play inhabits. This is the difference between recovering hit-points through drinking a potion, and disinfecting a wound before applying stitching or cauterization to seal it. However, I do not believe these two experiences necessitate mutual exclusivity. While it is easily stated that there are games that can be considered far more “simulation” for the aspect of appealing to a certain kind of play, it is important to note that not all simulation must mean laws as applied to reality, but simply a representation of that reality. When designing a game to have “real effect” or “real consequence”, consider that a simulation is as concrete as necessary to deliver the experience. Degrees of exaggerated suspension of belief are necessary to establish either experience. Essentially, a simulation is as much of a simulation as the designer would like it to be at the inception of the design; however, due to the procedural nature of games themselves, simulation has the ability to adapt itself to more fantastic situations. Do you prefer simulation games, either on the tabletop or in video games? Is there a satisfaction from ruthlessly realizing real concepts in fantasy settings? Do you have zero interest in simulation? Let us know in the comment section! Enjoy our content? Have something to add? Join the forums and let us know! We also have positions available for contributors and writers. Inquire within to become a StrMod contributor today! Game design is a series of universal theories that can be applied to any facet of play, yet most people think the disparity between video games and tabletop games is too large to broach. Rather than seeing these concepts as a dividing line, let's take a look at some concepts often speculated to be solely digital and bring them into the tabletop environment. There is a widely accepted theory among the digital games industry, as well as among its press, that moves to propose that a game should create an experience where the player forgets their existence in the real world and begins to believe that the game, or designed entertainment, is experiencing reality firsthand. Alternatively, Katie Salen and Eric Zimmerman oppose this idea in their book Rules of Play, and describe it as a concept known as The Immersive Fallacy. The Immersive Fallacy is the idea that pleasure of a media experience lies in its ability to sensually transport the participant into an illusory, simulated reality. The immersive fallacy also proposes that the new reality is so complete that the frame falls away, and the player believes they are part of an imaginary world. Salen and Zimmerman criticize this concept of immersion, as it is less a matter of experiencing a game, and more of joining the game in play through interaction. Game designer and programmer François Dominic Laramée wrote the following on the concept of immersion in his essay, Immersion: “All forms of entertainment strive to create suspension of disbelief, a state in which the player’s mind forgets that it is being subjected to entertainment and instead accepts what it perceives as reality.” Warren Spector, acclaimed game designer and lead designer of Deus Ex speculated the following on this topic: “Is the Star Trek Holodeck an inevitable and end result of games as simulacra? The history of media (mass and otherwise) seems pretty clearly a march toward ever more faithful approximations of reality—from the development of the illusion of perspective in paintings … to color moving pictures with sound beamed directly into your home via television to today’s immersive reality games like Quake and System Shock.” These comments are pointedly exaggerated to influence conversation, but propose the future of immersive entertainment becoming a full virtual-reality simulation where the user experiences the interaction with the media through sight, sound, smell, taste, and touch, until they are completely encapsulated in the new reality, stripped from their own. More frighteningly, is this something the modern consumer would be looking for in their entertainment, as a complete escape from the world they occupy into a new experience of immersion? Elena Gorfinkel, a film studies scholar, responded to Spector’s comments with the following criticism: “Immersion is not a property of a game or media text but is an effect that a text produces. What I mean is that immersion is an experience that happens between a game and its player, and is not something intrinsic to the aesthetics of a game…For example; one can get immersed in Tetris. Therefore, immersion into game play seems at least as important as immersion into a game’s representational space. It seems that these components need to be separated to do justice and better understand how immersion, as a category of experience and perception, works.” Gorfinkel here postulates that immersion is not a trait of media that can be aestheticized, but a concept that is wholly and entirely produced through the interaction of the game and the consumer of the game. Gorfinkel also moves to state that immersion is not a matter of graphics or details of the aesthetic quality, but a method in which a game interacts with its player, as well as the depth of that interaction.
Often, I will hear about GMs attempting to immerse their players in a variety of ways at the table. A large component of these theories is adding something externally to the game outside of the game to better position the players in the setting, such as music. This is a concept I usually balk at, as music can be helpful but often adds another element of the gameplay that the players cannot interact with, nor was designed specifically for the game. The immersive experience must come from the play itself, being the experience that the players are obtaining through the adventures they take within the game. Rather than spending time finding a music sting or ambience that could generate a feeling in the game, that feeling could be generated by more efficiently designing the play rather than the external. I’ve put both theories of immersion into this article, as I would like you to draw your own conclusion, be that from immersion through aesthetic or immersion through play. Regardless of choice, the end result should always be creating immersive experiences for the player. Do you have any experience with immersive events? Have you, as a player or as a GM, ever found yourself drifting into another world as you play? Does all of this sound completely silly? Let us know in the comment section, we would love to hear your opinions and stories! Enjoy our content? Have something to add? Join the forums and let us know! We also have positions available for contributors and writers. Inquire within to become a StrMod contributor today! At the core of any game is something called a “Game Loop”, which is a term for a series of actions that the players take part in again and again as the core series of actions within the game. While that may seem repetitive and boring, on paper, the greatest game loops allow for players to constantly repeat enjoyable actions while never knowing that their actions are repetitive loops. In Game Design, this is known as “Entrainment”. Entrainment comes from the French word “entrainer” and has two meanings: to carry along, and to trap. Entrainment has been commonly used to describe physical and natural phenomenon, such as circadian sleep rhythms to thunderstorms. Game Designer Brian Moriarty uses entrainment to refer to rhythmic pleasure, a process of falling into a patterned activity and continuing to enjoy the experience. In 1998, Moriarty gave a talk at the Game Developers conference about entrainment and game design: “Rhythm and patterns exist in all games, if you watch. Watch someone playing a game sometime. Not the game itself, lest you be sucked in, but the player, and the space around him or her. Watch the rhythms emerge, and how the players and the game interact. It will become clear that a game is really an entrainment engine. The job of the gamewright, therefore, is to reinforce patterns and dampen dissonance.” Entrainment is the experience of “same-but-different”. From the experience of firing the same series of weapons in the same matches of Call of Duty to grinding experience in a Final Fantasy, entrainment is the concurrent pattern of repeating actions but enjoying the actions while in repetition. Dungeons & Dragons 4th Edition had a lot of problems with its combat system. Some specifically include fights going on for too long, and becoming boring within the timeframe. With the excess of powers, abilities, and seemingly endless HP counts of enemies, as well as a removal of risk in the way of healing surges and second winds, entrainment becomes rather difficult to inspire within the players. Dungeons & Dragons 3.5 was able to inspire this kind of pleasure, while theoretically less interactive with the players in the fight. There were not a dozen abilities of use at any given time for each player, but the players were able to find a comfortable routine within the combats, knowing their specific abilities, as well as the potential outcomes for each action. It finds a rhythm in combat that later iterations simply lack: the flow and focus of slowly dissecting an enemy without necessitating more options.
When examining gameplay, as well as pacing for a game or even a session, a GM could establish a point of which the players will be allowed to set into their respective rhythm. By crafting a point in the game of which players are allowed to systematically enjoy their abilities and actions based on the actions they have chosen as characters, the game will naturally create this gameplay loop, and potentially inspire entrainment, the same-but-different gameplay leading towards the experience of entrainment. It is less of a trick, and more of a phenomenon of perception. By allowing players to experience something they are comfortable doing, while repeating the action, a natural state of enjoyment comes from breaking down a conflict through repetition. This comfortable, enticing loop of gameplay is the crux of design, whether in systems created or homebrewed, and should be the focus of creation for all mechanically focused systems. Have you ever had a notably entrained game? Is there a point of which you realize you, as a player, or the players before you are falling into a comfortable rhythm? Is there an event you typically introduce to encourage this kind of gameplay? Let us know in the comments, we would love to hear your opinion! Until next time, stay rhythmic! -CP Enjoy our content? Have something to add? Join the forums and let us know! We also have positions available for contributors and writers. Inquire within to become a StrMod contributor today! In design, the greatest tool for improving a game is iteration. There are very few games that are completely, objectively perfect, if any at all. Iteration is vital to improving upon an existing game, from the smallest parts to entirely new editions and systems; however, this concept can be equally staggering as it is interesting. It’s dangerous to go alone, take this guide and make the first steps of evolving yourself from player to designer.
One of the greatest parts of homebrewing, adapting, or modifying games in general, is the ability to change as much or as little as one would want to change. Part of the reason that modifying a system is far more enticing than creating an entirely new system all-together is that it is the same effect as adding a radio to an existing car rather than attempting to build a car from scratch. Then again, that assumes that you’re going to be building that radio from scratch. Rather than attempt to undertake a large project, potentially ruining the wiring of the system you’re modifying, you can simply install a new piece that works within the system without too much trouble, adapting that portion into your new, fully functioning machine. Before this analogy gets too far, the crux of the statement lies within adaptation and iteration. Adaptation is taking a piece of a different system and bringing it into the system you’re currently playing. Iteration is taking an existing system and refining an aspect, portion, or entire section, and then bringing it into the game. Adaptation is the easier portion; you can take a part of a game that works and should work universally, and place it into your game. Iteration is slightly harder; you would have to correctly identify a part of a system that can be improved and then improve upon it in a meaningful way. In Exalted, there is a mechanic called “Stunting”. The world that Exalted takes place in, known as Creation, inherently loves a good story. Therefore, all of the players in the world of Creation gain otherworldly support when they are in the process of making a good story within the universe. Stunting is a mechanic that allows a player to gain more dice to roll, equating to more potential success on their action, by simply describing whatever it is they are doing in a flowery or colorful fashion. Stunting is an adaptation that can come into literally any system. It is a mechanical benefit for good roleplaying, and small enough to not break any system or inherently ruin any scenario, as the benefit gained is entirely judged by the person running the game. Inasmuch, it is a simple mechanic adapted from Exalted and placed into any other game to potentially great result. In Dungeons & Dragons 4th Edition, there was a mechanic known as “Action Points”, which allowed players to take a second standard action, allowing them to perform two “main” actions in their turn. As it progressed, it was rather hard to gain more Action Points in a single session, and the result of gaining more was massive. Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition instead allows for a mechanic known as “Inspiration”, which will also grant a small mechanical benefit, for playing in such a manner that suits their character or potentially placing themselves into a precarious situation on purpose. Iterating upon the concept of “Action Points”, where a player would either need to rest fully or perform an insanely grand action to achieve, “Inspiration” gains a quick and useful currency that can be given to players more often (much like Stunting), and even passed from player to player, allowing the entire table to celebrate the successful play of another. This iteration took a mechanic that was seldom and very powerful and created a smaller, but more interactive and narrative mechanic that can be used by the entire group, which better serves play. Overall, do not be afraid to take a mechanic that works from another system and attempt to adapt it into your current play. Mechanics that serve narratively are always easier to implement, but there is certainly room for more structural and mechanical implementation of options for the players. Rather than building a car, just buy a new radio. It will be music to your ears. Have a story of adaptation or implementation of new mechanics into your systems? Have you gone full-force in creating an entirely new system of play? Do you believe there is benefit or lack thereof regarding adapting mechanics? Let us know in the comment section! Enjoy our content? Have something to add? Join the forums and let us know! We also have positions available for contributors and writers. Inquire within to become a StrMod contributor today! In design, the greatest tool for improving a game is iteration. There are very few games that are completely, objectively perfect, if any at all. Iteration is vital to improving upon an existing game, from the smallest parts to entirely new editions and systems; however, this concept can be equally staggering as it is interesting. It’s dangerous to go alone, take this guide and make the first steps of evolving yourself from player to designer. Very soon, I’ll be taking part in a Lord of the Rings themed game via play-by-post through the internet. However, rather than throwing the players into the setting as members of the Fellowship, or even within the universe whatsoever during the War of the Ring, we’ll be set a long time before the Third Age, discovering the history of Middle Earth through play. While this is a very interesting concept, and the players are very excited to get started, it begs a timeless question: is playing with a pre-determined result fun? If not, is it possible to change history? After that, how much change is too much change when dealing with an established setting? When dealing with any established settings, especially those outside of a time-stasis or in the distant past, these are important questions to consider regarding player agency and determining play. Of course, anything can be accomplished with the clever use of an alternate universe. However, this is a simple answer to a complex question. If players have chosen to play within a defined setting to begin with, how much of that setting is lost when casually written away? In the end, there is never a “wrong” way to play, but there are points to consider in the lines of running within an established setting. Extending our example slightly, let’s look at Deathwatch and the universe of Warhammer 40k. It would most likely be an exciting experience to take part in the battles of the Horus Heresy as a band of Space Marines (loyalists or traitors) fighting for their side. However, if the players choose to be loyalists, is it possible to stop the Horus Heresy, reversing the endless nightmare that surrounds mankind for years to come? I would argue that, when choosing an established setting, some facets of the setting must be untouchable. If the Horus Heresy were to be won by the Emperor, or if it had never started in the first place, the entirety of the setting behind Warhammer 40k would be different, changing essentially every aspect. Going back to our Lord of the Rings example, this would be as tumultuous as somehow preventing Smeagol from finding the One Ring, or destroying it long before the events of the War of the Ring. At that point, the established setting changes entirely, dragging the players into a distinct alternate universe. Inasmuch, what is the point of playing in an established setting if key events never happened? Isn’t the enticement of an established setting within the known story?
The other side of the argument is that knowing sure failure can be disheartening, and outright boring, for players. If the players spend six weeks planning for a war that they factually lose without a chance for victory, why would they at all want to continue playing? Furthermore, why would they have wanted to spend six weeks planning in the first place? To which I claim that certain aspects of a story can change, should the setting as a whole stay the same. Let us assume that the players play a role in a key battle, which turns the tide for their side. In their scene, moment, and story, they are the heroes, and deserve to feel and celebrate as such. However, one battle is not enough to win a war, and the war eventually ends with their side losing. It is this magnification of certain events and not others that will keep players interested while adhering to a setting. The overall stories, and setting, stay the same, but the player’s involvement in it changes their viewpoints of the story, bringing about greater agency and interaction with their surrounding environments, allowing the view that, if even for a moment, they were heroes. Have you ever played in an established setting? Specifically, have you allowed or disallowed for players to play major roles in changing the setting as you knew it? What was the effect, and would you say it was worthwhile? Let us know your experiences! Until next week, keep those dice rolling! Enjoy our content? Have something to add? Join the forums and let us know! We also have positions available for contributors and writers. Inquire within to become a StrMod contributor today! In design, the greatest tool for improving a game is iteration. There are very few games that are completely, objectively perfect, if any at all. Iteration is vital to improving upon an existing game, from the smallest parts to entirely new editions and systems; however, this concept can be equally staggering as it is interesting. It’s dangerous to go alone, take this guide and make the first steps of evolving yourself from player to designer. We’ve talked a lot about what it means to add something to a game, in that many additions to games are representative of things players would like to see that simply don’t exist. Then again, there are parts of games that players and game masters can agree simply shouldn’t exist. Such designs often find themselves becoming “house ruled” out of the game, locked in a dark cabinet, never to be heard from again. However, without knowing what to look for in a system, this experience often comes after having played it, of which it may be too late to remove from the game. However, use this handy list of qualities to look out for in high-level, game breaking situations, and prepare yourself against showstoppers once and for all. 1. Does this apply to more than 50% of all rolls? A big part of Exalted is specialties, granting the player bonuses to various rolls dependent upon the circumstances of the action. As Exalted lends itself quite heavily to the ability for players to create additions to scenes at any given time, specialties are best used to accentuate those additions rather than simply making something better all of the time. For example, if I took a specialty in Socialize that was “Being convincing”, it would apply literally every time I spoke to anyone, as my intent would always end with being as convincing as possible, leading this specialty to be uninspired and a bit overpowered. Instead, if I were to take my specialty in “Snark”, it would apply when I decide my character has a chance to be snarky. 2. Is this thing always and constantly the best option? In game theory, there is a concept known as a “Dominant Strategy”. Dominant strategy is a strategy that can be employed by players to the best possible effect of succeeding at their task without any other effect coming close. Dark Heresy has a terribly inappropriately named psychic power in the Pyromancy Discipline named “Holocaust”, which deals damage that cannot be negated in an incredibly wide range. As the cost is comparable to other Pyromancy powers, and the detriment to using psychic powers is the same, there is no reason to ever use anything else to clear a room of enemies, as it is the most potent and efficient solution each and every time. If there is ever a specific ability that simply demolishes all of the competition without cause to look at any other aspect, consider adding stipulations, restricting uses, or even completely removing the effect from the game. Quickly bowling over all competition makes the game boring for the players, and makes your job as the GM far more difficult. 3. When does the player acquire this thing?
High level Wizard spells in Dungeons & Dragons are always incredibly powerful, but for good reason! The player has used and grown with this character until the latest levels of the game, allowing them an arsenal of insanely powerful tools at their disposal, acting as the reward for reaching that point in the game. For that reason, as overpowered as they may be, things like Power Word: Death, Time Stop and Wish are legal for all intents and purposes. However, it is possible for spells to be egregiously overpowered at the current level, dependent upon the restrictions placed within the game. Dungeons & Dragons offers a fine series of mechanics to limit players from dropping weapons of magical destruction, but it is within warrant to keep an eye on the level four through six spells, potentially introducing material components. 4. Is it not one thing, but a combination of things that is overpowered? Allow this. While this may seem like another representation of dominant strategy, the effective combination of various mechanics to great success is something players should be proud of rather than dissuaded from doing. Especially considering that the player has limited their other options to maximize certain aspects of their character; it would be unfair to simply remove their ability to use the products of their theorycrafting. Rather than banning this outright, think of better ways to counter it within the mechanics. Surely if the player has these options available, you as the GM also have the ability to bend and break a combination to your whims, creating an effective challenge rather than simply sending the player’s hard work to the dungeon. Do you have any specific tips for house-banning and overruling? Is there a system that comes to mind that works incredibly well to dissuade broken mechanics or one that is a repeat offender to the ban-hammer? Drop us a line and tell us! Until next week, keep those dice rolling! Enjoy our content? Have something to add? Join the forums and let us know! We also have positions available for contributors and writers. Inquire within to become a StrMod contributor today! |
@CorruptionPointsCan be found designing games and game systems mostly around 4am. Archives
November 2014
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