January 31, 2013
Letter of Intent
I want to put this out here, partially for myself, but also for others.
The Escapade Engine is designed to be simple, usable, and fun. It has a heavy focus on integration of other gameplay elements. This either allows for different rules and genres to be played with the same engine, or for multiple gametypes to be played at the same time. That is, I believe, its manifest destiny.
The EE will be free- I am not going to charge money for this. There won't be any books, official dice-sets, or miniature figures. It's supposed to be a good time with friends, no more- the extra money can go to pizza for late-night gaming sessions
This is the same reason I'm not going to turn Adsense onto this blog. Odds are you're here for words of questionable wisdom, not "1 simple trick to perform a coordinated air assault on a stationary target," or similar.
So, whoever you are, game on!
~
"But why not play GURPS?"
-I like English, not physics. The EE has a focus on being easy to use, something GURPS fails at. Same goes for most D&D games, which put too much of an emphasis on combat encounters for my liking.
"I had, like, this really cool idea for a thing. Can I do it?"
-Of course. The rules should be simple enough that you can just wedge it in.
"I'm very impressed, or uniquely offended- how do I get into contact with you?"
-Send me an email at escapadeengine@gmail.com
Symbolism, tone
I'm going to stop talking about story eventually. It will be glorious, and probably involve bunker maps.
The overarching theme, as well as tone, are essential to any RPG. There's dirty and gritty ones, high-minded ones, perfectionist ones, crazy ones, etc. It's a bit harder to express due to the nature of the GM acting as interpreter for the game, but it's still there. Let's trace the theme of Sunburn backwards:
The EMPIRE are a bunch of potato people, grown in vats, computer-chipped, then given guns to accomplish whatever task their masters wish.
The TLA are the standard human sci-fi affair, with spaceships and power armor and whatnot. There's also a pun in there.
By putting the players between a rock, a hard place, and two opposing, faceless empires, the focus is all on surviving the planet, as well as figuring out just what the hell is going on. I could have just as easily drummed up names for either side, but that defeats the purpose. Sunburn isn't about politics, it's about survival. It's much more earthy and grimy than, say, Star Wars. It doesn't matter whose flag you have on your back- there's people shooting at you, and they have their own flag!
~ Intermission ~
The tone of Sunburn is vaguely inspired by Samurai Jack. And Fallout. Everything here comes back to Fallout, somehow.
Most of the game is spent walking in the desert, taking in the beauty of it. An appreciation for nature is supposed to come of this, and eventually compel the players to make a decision completely opposite of the one they made when they come to the surface. It's about finding beauty, and coming to peace with a harsh situation.
This is punctuated by moments of intense combat, and close-quarters encounters with EMPIRE troopers. Not just for dramatic contrast, but also for plot, item mechanics, and to break up the long travels. Also a good chance to get all your ass-kicking done in one place.
This is one thing that so many games miss the boat on- have a theme, as well as a tone. It's not enough to have something which has an immediate draw- give it some staying power, and a style of its own. Otherwise, you're just making Call of Duty. I'd much rather make Sunburn than CoD.
The overarching theme, as well as tone, are essential to any RPG. There's dirty and gritty ones, high-minded ones, perfectionist ones, crazy ones, etc. It's a bit harder to express due to the nature of the GM acting as interpreter for the game, but it's still there. Let's trace the theme of Sunburn backwards:
The EMPIRE are a bunch of potato people, grown in vats, computer-chipped, then given guns to accomplish whatever task their masters wish.
The TLA are the standard human sci-fi affair, with spaceships and power armor and whatnot. There's also a pun in there.
By putting the players between a rock, a hard place, and two opposing, faceless empires, the focus is all on surviving the planet, as well as figuring out just what the hell is going on. I could have just as easily drummed up names for either side, but that defeats the purpose. Sunburn isn't about politics, it's about survival. It's much more earthy and grimy than, say, Star Wars. It doesn't matter whose flag you have on your back- there's people shooting at you, and they have their own flag!
~ Intermission ~
The tone of Sunburn is vaguely inspired by Samurai Jack. And Fallout. Everything here comes back to Fallout, somehow.
Most of the game is spent walking in the desert, taking in the beauty of it. An appreciation for nature is supposed to come of this, and eventually compel the players to make a decision completely opposite of the one they made when they come to the surface. It's about finding beauty, and coming to peace with a harsh situation.
This is punctuated by moments of intense combat, and close-quarters encounters with EMPIRE troopers. Not just for dramatic contrast, but also for plot, item mechanics, and to break up the long travels. Also a good chance to get all your ass-kicking done in one place.
This is one thing that so many games miss the boat on- have a theme, as well as a tone. It's not enough to have something which has an immediate draw- give it some staying power, and a style of its own. Otherwise, you're just making Call of Duty. I'd much rather make Sunburn than CoD.
January 30, 2013
Narrative through Gameplay: Guns and Water
One thing I wanted for Sunburn was to make the weapons variable in nature. Most will come "stock," but a few are better or worse than others. This adds a reason to keep looking for weapons, and gives players something to look forward to with each looting run.
Every time they pick up a weapon, they roll a D20:
1-2: -3
3-4: -2
5-6: -1
7-17: Stats as listed
18: +1
19: +2
20: +3
There's a 55% chance any weapon (knife, machine gun, grenade) will be average. 30% of the time it will be worse than listed, and the remaining 15% of weapons are better than average. Sunburn is a tough game, for serious people with lots of stubble. Also, the players are going to pick up a LOT of guns during the game, so I'm stacking the odds against them. I have no doubt a determined group could get everything in +3s, but it would take a while. It won't affect gameplay a terrible amount, but it still makes gun-collecting a fun activity.
I wanted to do something similar with dehydration. I'm sticking with rule of 3 on this one:
This mechanic regulates fluid levels, and is a backup in case water begins to run short. The tougher players can start to skip every other day, and be fine on 1 canteen per every 2 days. If it gets really hardcore, they can skip to one every 3 days, but that gets risky.
In a narrative sense, this is sacrifice. I have no doubt some characters will be more susceptible to thirst than others, and it becomes a choice for the "strong" (in this case): give them water and starve out yourself, or keep your hide in 100% condition for the up-and-coming fight. Of course, I have serious doubts my group are going to hold water from each other. But you never know...
Enjoy, ponder these thoughts, and come up with a great narrative mechanic for your game.
Every time they pick up a weapon, they roll a D20:
1-2: -3
3-4: -2
5-6: -1
7-17: Stats as listed
18: +1
19: +2
20: +3
There's a 55% chance any weapon (knife, machine gun, grenade) will be average. 30% of the time it will be worse than listed, and the remaining 15% of weapons are better than average. Sunburn is a tough game, for serious people with lots of stubble. Also, the players are going to pick up a LOT of guns during the game, so I'm stacking the odds against them. I have no doubt a determined group could get everything in +3s, but it would take a while. It won't affect gameplay a terrible amount, but it still makes gun-collecting a fun activity.
I wanted to do something similar with dehydration. I'm sticking with rule of 3 on this one:
- Healthy (day 0)
- Parched (day 1, DC 0)
- Heat exhaustion (day 2, DC 4)
- Heat stroke (day 3, DC 8)
- Death (day 4)
This mechanic regulates fluid levels, and is a backup in case water begins to run short. The tougher players can start to skip every other day, and be fine on 1 canteen per every 2 days. If it gets really hardcore, they can skip to one every 3 days, but that gets risky.
In a narrative sense, this is sacrifice. I have no doubt some characters will be more susceptible to thirst than others, and it becomes a choice for the "strong" (in this case): give them water and starve out yourself, or keep your hide in 100% condition for the up-and-coming fight. Of course, I have serious doubts my group are going to hold water from each other. But you never know...
Enjoy, ponder these thoughts, and come up with a great narrative mechanic for your game.
Narrative through Gameplay: Random Encounters
I'm always tooting my horn about narrative joining with gameplay to make RPG experiences: Here's an actual example of it.
Most of Project Sunburn is spent wandering around in the desert, trying to find water. It's a slow-paced intermission between brief periods of intense conflict (bunkers), and a good area for players to absorb atmosphere.
Speaking of atmosphere: Random encounters should have a purpose. A fight (for fighting's sake) is kind of pointless, and just pads for time. Even if the purpose is to reinforce the idea that the world is a dangerous place, random encounters should have a purpose.
In Sunburn, the random encounters have the purpose of showing what a typical day on OHS-817 is like, and letting the players get the complete wandering nomad experience. This might be modified a little bit, but here's the rough draft:
On a D12:
1: EMPIRE patrol (light)
2: EMPIRE patrol (heavy)
3: Drahn eating the remains of an EMPIRE patrol
4: Water-bearing plants (light)
5: Twister!- run through it, or walk around
6: Chasm- spend another day traveling
7-12: Quiet, uneventful day
On a D6:
1-4: Encounter happens during day
5-6: Encounter happens during night
Let's walk through the math and story of this. There's a 1/2 chance nothing happens. Sand, sun, and not a drop of water in sight. This is the "neutral" encounter. The twister and the chasm (1/6 chance) are both "negative" encounters- the players will lose resources, with no gain. This represents the serious hardships in the desert. The first four encounters are positive- the players gain water (the most important resource), sometimes by putting a few bodies below the sand. 1/3 chance of this happening.
So, statistically, there is a 2/3 water gained/lost ratio. Traveling in the desert yields no water, neither do twisters or chasms. But, the encounters yielding water will give a little more than one per player. This will drop player's water supplies gradually, and with enough fluctuation to make it scary.
From a narrative perspective, this is exactly what I wanted- a struggle for survival. Serious enough to warrant a lot of player brain-storming, but not deadly enough to kill the entire party if they get a few bad rolls (there's a reason I only have one chasm and one twister, but two patrols and two non-lethal water sources).
The day and night rolls were purely for aesthetics. I'm not going to apply sleep deprivation to players (yet), and it's mainly so I, as a GM, get to describe it differently. I'll ask who's on watch if it's a night-time encounter, but no major changes to gameplay.
It's a succinct little package designed to characterize the character's lifestyle outside of major encounters, shed some light on the nature of the planet's surface, and put a focus on survivalism. Next post will detail more about the random nature of weapons and water deprivation.
And, for those of you wondering- heavily inspired by Fallout. Wandering around in the wastes, not sure what zany thing you'll find, was one of my favorite parts of the whole experience.
Most of Project Sunburn is spent wandering around in the desert, trying to find water. It's a slow-paced intermission between brief periods of intense conflict (bunkers), and a good area for players to absorb atmosphere.
Speaking of atmosphere: Random encounters should have a purpose. A fight (for fighting's sake) is kind of pointless, and just pads for time. Even if the purpose is to reinforce the idea that the world is a dangerous place, random encounters should have a purpose.
In Sunburn, the random encounters have the purpose of showing what a typical day on OHS-817 is like, and letting the players get the complete wandering nomad experience. This might be modified a little bit, but here's the rough draft:
On a D12:
1: EMPIRE patrol (light)
2: EMPIRE patrol (heavy)
3: Drahn eating the remains of an EMPIRE patrol
4: Water-bearing plants (light)
5: Twister!- run through it, or walk around
6: Chasm- spend another day traveling
7-12: Quiet, uneventful day
On a D6:
1-4: Encounter happens during day
5-6: Encounter happens during night
Let's walk through the math and story of this. There's a 1/2 chance nothing happens. Sand, sun, and not a drop of water in sight. This is the "neutral" encounter. The twister and the chasm (1/6 chance) are both "negative" encounters- the players will lose resources, with no gain. This represents the serious hardships in the desert. The first four encounters are positive- the players gain water (the most important resource), sometimes by putting a few bodies below the sand. 1/3 chance of this happening.
So, statistically, there is a 2/3 water gained/lost ratio. Traveling in the desert yields no water, neither do twisters or chasms. But, the encounters yielding water will give a little more than one per player. This will drop player's water supplies gradually, and with enough fluctuation to make it scary.
From a narrative perspective, this is exactly what I wanted- a struggle for survival. Serious enough to warrant a lot of player brain-storming, but not deadly enough to kill the entire party if they get a few bad rolls (there's a reason I only have one chasm and one twister, but two patrols and two non-lethal water sources).
The day and night rolls were purely for aesthetics. I'm not going to apply sleep deprivation to players (yet), and it's mainly so I, as a GM, get to describe it differently. I'll ask who's on watch if it's a night-time encounter, but no major changes to gameplay.
It's a succinct little package designed to characterize the character's lifestyle outside of major encounters, shed some light on the nature of the planet's surface, and put a focus on survivalism. Next post will detail more about the random nature of weapons and water deprivation.
And, for those of you wondering- heavily inspired by Fallout. Wandering around in the wastes, not sure what zany thing you'll find, was one of my favorite parts of the whole experience.
January 29, 2013
Bite-sized thoughts 2
Villains-
There's a few rules for villains I bumped into while reading on RPGs. It's so simple, but I didn't fully realize it until I thought about it.
Rule 1: They have to be bad. If the players have no moral disagreement, there's no conflict, and he's just another buddy of theirs. So many of my villains had perfectly reasonable intentions, but just went about it in a convoluted, evil way. They were compelling enemies, but none of them were truly hateable.
Rule 2: They have to be visible. Keep reminding the players that there's a bad, bad dude out there. He's on billboards, his minions are constantly looting caravans, he's screwing with the stock market, or he's so popular everyone is talking about him. Be creative, and remember that his actions (and the results of) are just as good for face-time.
Rule 3: They have to be a legitimate threat. No good if the players just stomp on him. He learns from his mistakes, switches up his strategies, and is always looking for allies, just like the PCs are. I was watching Logan's Run the other day, and Box (robot who catches and freezes people for food) fails at this. Forty seconds of fisticuffs and being shot at, and he falls over. Complete push-over, in more ways than one.
Apocalypse Proliferation-
We are living in a post-apocalyptic world. A great empire rose above all others, and controlled the world. It was called Rome. Now, it is no more- pictures on a wall, words in history books, and a memory of a simpler, more barbaric time.
I'm forced to believe "apocalypse" has replaced the word "disaster," due to its biblical undertones. Almost every RPG I can think of has ruins. Someone lived in them once, but now they don't. There's a reason. It could just be that they made newer buildings, or they could have been scourged by the sun. Either way, "apocalypse" is hardly a blanket term, and I'm trying to cut back on using it as one.
Dice rolls/surprise rounds-
In any non-threatening situation (no time limit, no one trying to kill you), dice should auto-crit. Maximum possible roll, automatically. For one, it's boring as hell to roll for everything. For another, it gives the surprising party an edge in combat, infiltration, etc.
Speech is Combat-
I love Fallout. To my grave, I love it. But, the speech skill is so gaudy. "I'm one point short of being able to convince you to drop dead for me. That's how I roll." There's no intensity, no interaction- like real talking.
So, my theory is to use an engine similar to combat. Everyone who participates in the conversation is in "the grid." Anyone who chooses to not be a part of it isn't represented, so they cannot give or take flak. Then, the combatants go around using various attacks- joke, boast, coerce, admire, etc. Slowly, the enemy's "distrust" is whittled down, until they'll work with you, or are convinced of X, etc.
Because trust is something I'm leaving to the players (not the characters), anyone important will also have a "patience" bar. If it runs out (by making successful attacks against players) the character thinks they've had enough, and exits combat.
It's not a perfect solution, but it's an improvement. It's versatile, interactive, and has parallels in actual conversation. If you aren't even good at talking, your character should have an option to remain in the conversation, and buff someone by just agreeing with them. Nodding, saying "yeah, truth," etc.
I'm not going to implement this for a while. Sunburn is already too damn large. But, this is definitely going to happen. Press X to convince the man to not kill himself.
There's a few rules for villains I bumped into while reading on RPGs. It's so simple, but I didn't fully realize it until I thought about it.
Rule 1: They have to be bad. If the players have no moral disagreement, there's no conflict, and he's just another buddy of theirs. So many of my villains had perfectly reasonable intentions, but just went about it in a convoluted, evil way. They were compelling enemies, but none of them were truly hateable.
Rule 2: They have to be visible. Keep reminding the players that there's a bad, bad dude out there. He's on billboards, his minions are constantly looting caravans, he's screwing with the stock market, or he's so popular everyone is talking about him. Be creative, and remember that his actions (and the results of) are just as good for face-time.
Rule 3: They have to be a legitimate threat. No good if the players just stomp on him. He learns from his mistakes, switches up his strategies, and is always looking for allies, just like the PCs are. I was watching Logan's Run the other day, and Box (robot who catches and freezes people for food) fails at this. Forty seconds of fisticuffs and being shot at, and he falls over. Complete push-over, in more ways than one.
Apocalypse Proliferation-
We are living in a post-apocalyptic world. A great empire rose above all others, and controlled the world. It was called Rome. Now, it is no more- pictures on a wall, words in history books, and a memory of a simpler, more barbaric time.
I'm forced to believe "apocalypse" has replaced the word "disaster," due to its biblical undertones. Almost every RPG I can think of has ruins. Someone lived in them once, but now they don't. There's a reason. It could just be that they made newer buildings, or they could have been scourged by the sun. Either way, "apocalypse" is hardly a blanket term, and I'm trying to cut back on using it as one.
Dice rolls/surprise rounds-
In any non-threatening situation (no time limit, no one trying to kill you), dice should auto-crit. Maximum possible roll, automatically. For one, it's boring as hell to roll for everything. For another, it gives the surprising party an edge in combat, infiltration, etc.
Speech is Combat-
I love Fallout. To my grave, I love it. But, the speech skill is so gaudy. "I'm one point short of being able to convince you to drop dead for me. That's how I roll." There's no intensity, no interaction- like real talking.
So, my theory is to use an engine similar to combat. Everyone who participates in the conversation is in "the grid." Anyone who chooses to not be a part of it isn't represented, so they cannot give or take flak. Then, the combatants go around using various attacks- joke, boast, coerce, admire, etc. Slowly, the enemy's "distrust" is whittled down, until they'll work with you, or are convinced of X, etc.
Because trust is something I'm leaving to the players (not the characters), anyone important will also have a "patience" bar. If it runs out (by making successful attacks against players) the character thinks they've had enough, and exits combat.
It's not a perfect solution, but it's an improvement. It's versatile, interactive, and has parallels in actual conversation. If you aren't even good at talking, your character should have an option to remain in the conversation, and buff someone by just agreeing with them. Nodding, saying "yeah, truth," etc.
I'm not going to implement this for a while. Sunburn is already too damn large. But, this is definitely going to happen. Press X to convince the man to not kill himself.
January 27, 2013
The ideal Tabletop-Gamer
This one's really opinionated. It represents my views as of now, and is not an absolute truth. It's just what I think is best at the moment.
We game for escapism. Everyone does. It's why we watch TV, play video games, and go to art galleries. Escapism isn't necessarily pretending you're an elf in space, but just NOT being who you are every day of the week.
Mark Hermanson is a good guy to be, but sometimes I want to be someone else. Watch the movie "Darkon," they've got some good quotes on this one.
So, my first suggestion for an ideal player is someone who wants to escape from real life for a little bit. Look for the quiet ones who wear dark colors. Someone who doesn't fit in, and really doesn't want to. The outcasts, loners, and social pariahs that our world creates have some of the most amazing things in their heads.
Gaming is storytelling. The best players (doubly so, the best GMs) are the ones who want to make a convincing narrative that everyone can enjoy. The game is secondary, but still a very strong factor. For this reason, people with Roleplaying experience (and not just from team-building exercises at work) are some of the best gamers.
Similarly, players with experience in creative writing, movie and literary appreciation, or even a thoughtful video gamer are also good candidates. Someone who can understand story, and have an awareness of the devices surrounding them, will mesh incredibly smoothly with a good group. Problem-solvers usually aren't good, because Gaming isn't about finishing the game- it's about playing it.
The journey is more important than the destination... but the destination is still pretty awesome.
Creative, enthusiastic minds are the best for creative characters. Even if the character is really boring, the player should be able to make them into a compelling piece of the narrative. This one I'd put as less important, because compelling stories still happen around otherwise bland characters, especially if the players catch on.
These are some loose thoughts, accumulated over the last couple of weeks. I was considering putting this in Bite-sized thoughts 2, but it's a little big for that.
Recap:
And, in the end, that's really all that matters: having a positive experience.
We game for escapism. Everyone does. It's why we watch TV, play video games, and go to art galleries. Escapism isn't necessarily pretending you're an elf in space, but just NOT being who you are every day of the week.
Mark Hermanson is a good guy to be, but sometimes I want to be someone else. Watch the movie "Darkon," they've got some good quotes on this one.
So, my first suggestion for an ideal player is someone who wants to escape from real life for a little bit. Look for the quiet ones who wear dark colors. Someone who doesn't fit in, and really doesn't want to. The outcasts, loners, and social pariahs that our world creates have some of the most amazing things in their heads.
Gaming is storytelling. The best players (doubly so, the best GMs) are the ones who want to make a convincing narrative that everyone can enjoy. The game is secondary, but still a very strong factor. For this reason, people with Roleplaying experience (and not just from team-building exercises at work) are some of the best gamers.
Similarly, players with experience in creative writing, movie and literary appreciation, or even a thoughtful video gamer are also good candidates. Someone who can understand story, and have an awareness of the devices surrounding them, will mesh incredibly smoothly with a good group. Problem-solvers usually aren't good, because Gaming isn't about finishing the game- it's about playing it.
The journey is more important than the destination... but the destination is still pretty awesome.
Creative, enthusiastic minds are the best for creative characters. Even if the character is really boring, the player should be able to make them into a compelling piece of the narrative. This one I'd put as less important, because compelling stories still happen around otherwise bland characters, especially if the players catch on.
These are some loose thoughts, accumulated over the last couple of weeks. I was considering putting this in Bite-sized thoughts 2, but it's a little big for that.
Recap:
- A desire to escape reality for a few hours
- Previous experience as a role-player
- A basic understanding of narrative mechanics and storytelling
- Patience to be in the game, and enjoy the experience, rather than trying to finish it
- Creativity to lend vibrancy and compelling personalities to characters
And, in the end, that's really all that matters: having a positive experience.
Flexibility and shotguns
Here's a little snippet from an RP I was doing last night, and I think a good example of flexibility.
The situation:
An investigator for the DoD (The story arc revolved around missing nuclear warheads) and a geologist (no relation, just a fun character) are going to the den of the town's local biker gang. They've been invited, with the promise of extra information in a seemingly impossible case. They know the bikers (The Flames) are involved, just not how much.
Once they arrive, they meet with the spiritual leader of the Flames, who just goes by Callahan. He runs his mouth for a little bit, then tells them he won't trust them until they do something for him- take a shotgun to the head of a crazy guy in the back room. Eric has been overtaken by Callahan's fiery oratory, and believes that he can only realize his full potential by "leaving this meat-sack of a body." Callahan thinks he's a lost cause, and want the players to mercy-kill him,"the way a true human would."
Callahan's a crazy, superstitious bastard.
The setup:
It's a test. The shotgun is loaded with a blank (the players never checked it), and Eric isn't actually crazy. What Eric is trying to do is goad the players into shooting him by acting wretched, depressed, and over eager for death. Callahan figures if the players actually shoot, it means they're willing to do "what's right," thus letting him trust them.
The complication:
Neither of the players wanted to kill Eric. The DoD agent already has too many ghosts, and can't justify killing to solve the case. The geologist has roughly the same reason, and is more interested in putting Eric through therapy.
As a last-ditch effort, Eric started to beg them to just bring the shotgun in, and let him do it himself. he offered the geologist some information she'd been looking for, in exchange for his own immortality (boom).
I admit, I did expect the players to eventually shoot Eric. I played him as hard as I could, and tried to get them into the idea of mercy-killing him. Wouldn't take. A bad GM would have tried to force the issue further, but I adapted.
The players were quite clever- they suggested Eric stay alive, so he can gather as much worldly information as possible while he's still human, and operating on a human level. Having no counter-point, I worked a solution.
The solution:
After about fifteen minutes (real life) of bullshit philosophy versus merciful intentions, Eric leaned against the wall, and checked his watch. "Good job, you passed. Shotgun shell is a blank, by the way." He mostly looked smug with himself, delivered some dialogue in a sane manner, and gave the geologist the information she wanted anyway.
They went to Callahan for their information, and he gave them this basic spiel: By choosing to reason with Eric, and keep him alive, they proved they're better than the average person, who would have just shot him. This dedication to human life (as well as some really good arguments) tells him they can be trusted as "real" humans, so he gives them the information.
But, he only does it after they promise him (as humans) that what happened in the building, stays in the building. He gives them everything they need to know, and his goons even hold the door open for them.
The icing on the cake:
On the drive back to town, the DoD agent remarked that Callahan is a complete asshole, and the whole thing was incredibly douche-baggy. Mission accomplished.
More thoughts:
This situation was designed to increase tension, and test player's morality. What are they willing to do to recover two (decommissioned) nuclear warheads? Will they kill in something other than self-defense?
If I was a really good GM, I might have been able to play Eric hard enough to get them to shoot him. But, I'm not perfect. So, I adapted. After the first three minutes of conversation, I was 90% sure they wouldn't kill him, so I was partially stalling for time. I had to figure out a good reason for Callahan to pass them for not killing. So, convenient character excuse: Make up some pseudo-religious crap, and keep going.
The message I'm trying to get across is: Be ready to adapt. If I'd railroaded them into shooting Eric, that wouldn't have been any fun whatsoever. But, I need to give Callahan a good reason for trusting them. I suppose I could have just had him remark that "life is sacred, and we should preserve what we can," but that's really unlike him. He's got more fire in his blood than that.
A good GM can react to just about anything and keep the story going- a great GM can make it look like that was part of the plan the whole time.
The situation:
An investigator for the DoD (The story arc revolved around missing nuclear warheads) and a geologist (no relation, just a fun character) are going to the den of the town's local biker gang. They've been invited, with the promise of extra information in a seemingly impossible case. They know the bikers (The Flames) are involved, just not how much.
Once they arrive, they meet with the spiritual leader of the Flames, who just goes by Callahan. He runs his mouth for a little bit, then tells them he won't trust them until they do something for him- take a shotgun to the head of a crazy guy in the back room. Eric has been overtaken by Callahan's fiery oratory, and believes that he can only realize his full potential by "leaving this meat-sack of a body." Callahan thinks he's a lost cause, and want the players to mercy-kill him,"the way a true human would."
Callahan's a crazy, superstitious bastard.
The setup:
It's a test. The shotgun is loaded with a blank (the players never checked it), and Eric isn't actually crazy. What Eric is trying to do is goad the players into shooting him by acting wretched, depressed, and over eager for death. Callahan figures if the players actually shoot, it means they're willing to do "what's right," thus letting him trust them.
The complication:
Neither of the players wanted to kill Eric. The DoD agent already has too many ghosts, and can't justify killing to solve the case. The geologist has roughly the same reason, and is more interested in putting Eric through therapy.
As a last-ditch effort, Eric started to beg them to just bring the shotgun in, and let him do it himself. he offered the geologist some information she'd been looking for, in exchange for his own immortality (boom).
I admit, I did expect the players to eventually shoot Eric. I played him as hard as I could, and tried to get them into the idea of mercy-killing him. Wouldn't take. A bad GM would have tried to force the issue further, but I adapted.
The players were quite clever- they suggested Eric stay alive, so he can gather as much worldly information as possible while he's still human, and operating on a human level. Having no counter-point, I worked a solution.
The solution:
After about fifteen minutes (real life) of bullshit philosophy versus merciful intentions, Eric leaned against the wall, and checked his watch. "Good job, you passed. Shotgun shell is a blank, by the way." He mostly looked smug with himself, delivered some dialogue in a sane manner, and gave the geologist the information she wanted anyway.
They went to Callahan for their information, and he gave them this basic spiel: By choosing to reason with Eric, and keep him alive, they proved they're better than the average person, who would have just shot him. This dedication to human life (as well as some really good arguments) tells him they can be trusted as "real" humans, so he gives them the information.
But, he only does it after they promise him (as humans) that what happened in the building, stays in the building. He gives them everything they need to know, and his goons even hold the door open for them.
The icing on the cake:
On the drive back to town, the DoD agent remarked that Callahan is a complete asshole, and the whole thing was incredibly douche-baggy. Mission accomplished.
More thoughts:
This situation was designed to increase tension, and test player's morality. What are they willing to do to recover two (decommissioned) nuclear warheads? Will they kill in something other than self-defense?
If I was a really good GM, I might have been able to play Eric hard enough to get them to shoot him. But, I'm not perfect. So, I adapted. After the first three minutes of conversation, I was 90% sure they wouldn't kill him, so I was partially stalling for time. I had to figure out a good reason for Callahan to pass them for not killing. So, convenient character excuse: Make up some pseudo-religious crap, and keep going.
The message I'm trying to get across is: Be ready to adapt. If I'd railroaded them into shooting Eric, that wouldn't have been any fun whatsoever. But, I need to give Callahan a good reason for trusting them. I suppose I could have just had him remark that "life is sacred, and we should preserve what we can," but that's really unlike him. He's got more fire in his blood than that.
A good GM can react to just about anything and keep the story going- a great GM can make it look like that was part of the plan the whole time.
January 20, 2013
Bite-sized thoughts 1
I thought about including these in the last post, but it was already too sizely. These are just some thoughts I've had, which aren't quite big enough to warrant their own post.
-Randomization and the over-use of dice rolls:
The dice only get rolled if a random outcome is necessary. When I played Shadowrun, the GM had us role for the most asinine things. And he was rolling against us, too. Perform a hack attack on a system you've already taken over completely? Roll against me. Drive a car you've had for two years? Roll against me. What the hell, man!
Randomness is a narrative element. Maybe this is me having a book up my ass, but the dice are there to make the story more interesting. Let's use a shootout in Project Sunburn as an example and metaphor. Without dice, you either can or cannot kill an EMPIRE grunt. Without dice, there is only one set of loot you'll get from them. It's not a question of tactics and strategy, it's a grinder that you chug through until you're logically at 1 or 2 HP. Then you take the 8 bandages you looted (as expected), and chew through more of them. No fun.
I briefly considered a "waves" mechanic in PS. I'll roll a die, and the dunes will be that high or low in one particular area, either burying cities and mountains, lowering enough to block access, or coming in at a nice median. It adds danger and uncertainty to the "traveling" elements, and won't kill the players accidentally. I'm still keeping it for another campaign (Sunburn 3, probably), and I think it'll add a nice risk factor. If I, the GM, just narrated the rise and fall of the desert, it would be really hard for me to keep it convincing. I'd either be too easy or too harsh, and I don't have the dice as a scapegoat.
-Dreams
Dreams are the subconscious burbling its thoughts to us. Little messages, translated into wonderful and horrifying images to entertain us in our sleep. But, that takes all the fun out of it.
Biblical passages, ancient myths, and even urban legends are chock-full of dream sequences with serious narrative impact.*
In an ancient or highly mythical setting, dreams would be an excellent environment to expand gameplay. It fits with the setting, and really lets the players snap into character. In a modern setting, and most hard sci-fi, a dream sequence would be out of place. Of course, some stories would demand this (Looking at you, Spirits Within)
The ultimate message? I'm not letting the real world get in the way of my stories. There is nothing real here. But it is entertaining...
*I mean this on a purely surface level; taking a religious text, and looking at the story without the context. I don't mean to offend anyone's religion, and I'm not calling any religious books fictional narrative.
-Randomization and the over-use of dice rolls:
The dice only get rolled if a random outcome is necessary. When I played Shadowrun, the GM had us role for the most asinine things. And he was rolling against us, too. Perform a hack attack on a system you've already taken over completely? Roll against me. Drive a car you've had for two years? Roll against me. What the hell, man!
Randomness is a narrative element. Maybe this is me having a book up my ass, but the dice are there to make the story more interesting. Let's use a shootout in Project Sunburn as an example and metaphor. Without dice, you either can or cannot kill an EMPIRE grunt. Without dice, there is only one set of loot you'll get from them. It's not a question of tactics and strategy, it's a grinder that you chug through until you're logically at 1 or 2 HP. Then you take the 8 bandages you looted (as expected), and chew through more of them. No fun.
I briefly considered a "waves" mechanic in PS. I'll roll a die, and the dunes will be that high or low in one particular area, either burying cities and mountains, lowering enough to block access, or coming in at a nice median. It adds danger and uncertainty to the "traveling" elements, and won't kill the players accidentally. I'm still keeping it for another campaign (Sunburn 3, probably), and I think it'll add a nice risk factor. If I, the GM, just narrated the rise and fall of the desert, it would be really hard for me to keep it convincing. I'd either be too easy or too harsh, and I don't have the dice as a scapegoat.
-Dreams
Dreams are the subconscious burbling its thoughts to us. Little messages, translated into wonderful and horrifying images to entertain us in our sleep. But, that takes all the fun out of it.
Biblical passages, ancient myths, and even urban legends are chock-full of dream sequences with serious narrative impact.*
In an ancient or highly mythical setting, dreams would be an excellent environment to expand gameplay. It fits with the setting, and really lets the players snap into character. In a modern setting, and most hard sci-fi, a dream sequence would be out of place. Of course, some stories would demand this (Looking at you, Spirits Within)
The ultimate message? I'm not letting the real world get in the way of my stories. There is nothing real here. But it is entertaining...
*I mean this on a purely surface level; taking a religious text, and looking at the story without the context. I don't mean to offend anyone's religion, and I'm not calling any religious books fictional narrative.
Player vs Character
Still buggering around with rules.
I'm worried that I've made it all too complicated. Check out this page: EE Core Skills
It was inspired mostly by Fallout. I wanted a well-rounded universal system- not complicated enough to have forty gazillion attributes (Looking at you, Shadowrun), but complicated enough to have definable characters inside the rules. I'm all for three attributes (Combat/Movement/Special would be my choice), but that's not the point.
Rules are a way to express story. A tough character will have a high strength score, mechanically allowing him to do tough things. He's much more likely to punch through a door than go shopping for tuxedos. That doesn't mean he can't dress up, but that's not how he usually works. There's a certain oracular power in the stats: each number is a chance of him/her performing that action. Higher numbers are more likely for that character.
"I've got 16 Strength and 3 Coordination- I think I'll try to pick the lock on this door" said no one ever.
A character sheet should tell a character's story. You should be able to look at it, and know basically who they are and what they do. A classical gunslinger will have high toughness, coordination, and reflex. An astronaut will have high education and coordination. An actress will have enough personality to flip over a bus. Etc. Suppose the astronaut goes into movies later in his career? He'll start buffing his personality.
This brings a certain paradox, though; characters become more and more identical the further away they are from the middle of the stats balance.
At XP 0, characters have no stats. No bonuses to any rolls whatsoever. Same HP, same Fatigue, etc. The only difference is player personality, and equipment choice. As they get more XP and pick up better stats, they start to differentiate. There will be tough guys, smart guys, sneaky guys, etc. Even more stats, and they start to fall into archetypes. This is where a character's actions can become more defined by what stats they choose, because of distance between often-used and dump stats. Cowboys, astronauts, and astronaut cowboys start to emerge here.
But, as they max out more stats at the 20 point, they get more identical. The only thing left to spend points on (aside from perks, which I'm planning to incorporate later on the EE's development), is lower skills. The bottom line of their skills rise. The gunslinger becomes well educated, and the actress gets enough toughness to survive a strafing run. This continues, until everyone hits 20 in all stats- identical, again. Just like the beginning, the only thing setting them apart from each other is player personality.
So, my answer is to cut off the characters before they make it to the end, where nothing (aside from the truly insane- not out of the picture) is challenging. Everyone loves a good character, but once they reach that God-level... what's the point? They're all interchangeable, and the only thing setting them apart is equipment. This could be used to narrative effect, but I can't see it right now. Maybe later.
Consequently, I don't like the idea of starting characters at 0 XP without a good purpose. It could be a metaphor for identity, and finding a purpose, but I plan to start Project Sunburn by divvying up 210 XP between the characters evenly, and letting them customize from there.
~Intermission~
Now that I've rambled around about the interplay of numbers and stories, let's get to the meat of the issue. Players versus characters.
inb4 characters kick player's asses.
Tabletop games are all about the escapism. The purpose is to be someone else, instead of just watching them- like in movies. Video games (and some sculptures) are the closest entertainment venue, with players having meaningful interactions to the piece of work. To quote Darkon, "You could watch Brad Pitt, or you could be Brad Pitt."
Old-school D&D had the right idea. The players are the character's brains. They analyze the data, work out puzzles, and make the shots. If there was a puzzle, then dammit, YOU had to figure it out.
But, with the advent of knowledge checks, the player is really just guiding the character around to look at things. See a strange alien device which takes metal in and spits out odd-looking devices? Roll the dice, and it's a grenade-maker. Odd picture on the wall? Roll the dice, it's the tribal creation story.
Escapism means having characters stronger, smarter, and usually better-looking than us (When was the last time anyone made a deliberately ugly character? The last time I remember was about three years ago, and it wasn't me). Stronger is easy with numbers- your fist makes short work of the wooden door. But smarter is a little more difficult. I choose to think of it as pure encyclopedia knowledge. If the grenade-maker is in the basement of a candy shop, it's up to the player to figure out if anything is seriously wrong. It makes the player feel smarter, and more involved.
The only downside is the player NOT getting the implications of what they see and identify. If so, they have my pity. But it is a game, after all. To quote my psychology course, "the approximate truth is better than no truth at all." I've been leaning on that a lot recently.
Ow, my head. I think I've ran my mouth enough for the time being.
I'm worried that I've made it all too complicated. Check out this page: EE Core Skills
It was inspired mostly by Fallout. I wanted a well-rounded universal system- not complicated enough to have forty gazillion attributes (Looking at you, Shadowrun), but complicated enough to have definable characters inside the rules. I'm all for three attributes (Combat/Movement/Special would be my choice), but that's not the point.
Rules are a way to express story. A tough character will have a high strength score, mechanically allowing him to do tough things. He's much more likely to punch through a door than go shopping for tuxedos. That doesn't mean he can't dress up, but that's not how he usually works. There's a certain oracular power in the stats: each number is a chance of him/her performing that action. Higher numbers are more likely for that character.
"I've got 16 Strength and 3 Coordination- I think I'll try to pick the lock on this door" said no one ever.
A character sheet should tell a character's story. You should be able to look at it, and know basically who they are and what they do. A classical gunslinger will have high toughness, coordination, and reflex. An astronaut will have high education and coordination. An actress will have enough personality to flip over a bus. Etc. Suppose the astronaut goes into movies later in his career? He'll start buffing his personality.
This brings a certain paradox, though; characters become more and more identical the further away they are from the middle of the stats balance.
At XP 0, characters have no stats. No bonuses to any rolls whatsoever. Same HP, same Fatigue, etc. The only difference is player personality, and equipment choice. As they get more XP and pick up better stats, they start to differentiate. There will be tough guys, smart guys, sneaky guys, etc. Even more stats, and they start to fall into archetypes. This is where a character's actions can become more defined by what stats they choose, because of distance between often-used and dump stats. Cowboys, astronauts, and astronaut cowboys start to emerge here.
But, as they max out more stats at the 20 point, they get more identical. The only thing left to spend points on (aside from perks, which I'm planning to incorporate later on the EE's development), is lower skills. The bottom line of their skills rise. The gunslinger becomes well educated, and the actress gets enough toughness to survive a strafing run. This continues, until everyone hits 20 in all stats- identical, again. Just like the beginning, the only thing setting them apart from each other is player personality.
So, my answer is to cut off the characters before they make it to the end, where nothing (aside from the truly insane- not out of the picture) is challenging. Everyone loves a good character, but once they reach that God-level... what's the point? They're all interchangeable, and the only thing setting them apart is equipment. This could be used to narrative effect, but I can't see it right now. Maybe later.
Consequently, I don't like the idea of starting characters at 0 XP without a good purpose. It could be a metaphor for identity, and finding a purpose, but I plan to start Project Sunburn by divvying up 210 XP between the characters evenly, and letting them customize from there.
~Intermission~
Now that I've rambled around about the interplay of numbers and stories, let's get to the meat of the issue. Players versus characters.
inb4 characters kick player's asses.
Tabletop games are all about the escapism. The purpose is to be someone else, instead of just watching them- like in movies. Video games (and some sculptures) are the closest entertainment venue, with players having meaningful interactions to the piece of work. To quote Darkon, "You could watch Brad Pitt, or you could be Brad Pitt."
Old-school D&D had the right idea. The players are the character's brains. They analyze the data, work out puzzles, and make the shots. If there was a puzzle, then dammit, YOU had to figure it out.
But, with the advent of knowledge checks, the player is really just guiding the character around to look at things. See a strange alien device which takes metal in and spits out odd-looking devices? Roll the dice, and it's a grenade-maker. Odd picture on the wall? Roll the dice, it's the tribal creation story.
Escapism means having characters stronger, smarter, and usually better-looking than us (When was the last time anyone made a deliberately ugly character? The last time I remember was about three years ago, and it wasn't me). Stronger is easy with numbers- your fist makes short work of the wooden door. But smarter is a little more difficult. I choose to think of it as pure encyclopedia knowledge. If the grenade-maker is in the basement of a candy shop, it's up to the player to figure out if anything is seriously wrong. It makes the player feel smarter, and more involved.
The only downside is the player NOT getting the implications of what they see and identify. If so, they have my pity. But it is a game, after all. To quote my psychology course, "the approximate truth is better than no truth at all." I've been leaning on that a lot recently.
Ow, my head. I think I've ran my mouth enough for the time being.
January 16, 2013
Water and Sunshine
The water issue is something I've been rethinking. 2 "canteens" a day seems a little pointless- much easier to just call it one canteen, and save the hassle. It'll be less of a hip flask, more of a jug.
Also, I've re-thought the environment a little bit. As much as I want to make a sprawling desert like the Sahara, it would be much more interesting to let it be a little cooler. The belts of stuff in the air would block out a considerable amount of sunlight, cooling the surface temperature. This gives some leniency in terms of water/day, and and allows for things like small shrubbery and humans to survive on the surface.
Somehow, in my mind, I lost the resource panic brought on by Hunter Prey, and a little of Pitch Black. Even the old-school Fallouts. It's supposed to be dangerous. I'll introduce more water scarcity, and I'm thinking of putting some ad-hoc water sources out in the desert. Plants, discarded EMPIRE stuff, etc. I'll figure it out.
I've missed a lot of the point, I think. Most of the inspiration sources are much more exciting than this is, and I need to figure out why, then emulate it.
Also, I've re-thought the environment a little bit. As much as I want to make a sprawling desert like the Sahara, it would be much more interesting to let it be a little cooler. The belts of stuff in the air would block out a considerable amount of sunlight, cooling the surface temperature. This gives some leniency in terms of water/day, and and allows for things like small shrubbery and humans to survive on the surface.
Somehow, in my mind, I lost the resource panic brought on by Hunter Prey, and a little of Pitch Black. Even the old-school Fallouts. It's supposed to be dangerous. I'll introduce more water scarcity, and I'm thinking of putting some ad-hoc water sources out in the desert. Plants, discarded EMPIRE stuff, etc. I'll figure it out.
I've missed a lot of the point, I think. Most of the inspiration sources are much more exciting than this is, and I need to figure out why, then emulate it.
January 11, 2013
Short Walk through a Long Desert
Most of Sunburn is spent in a desert, as opposed to fighting through bunkers. It's supposed to be a nomadic experience, filled to some extent with scenes of awe and wonder. The last thing I want to do is say "You spend a week walking across the dunes. You have exhausted 14 liters of water each. Blah blah I have no appreciation for narrative and picture."
The desert is also a way to relax after bunker combat. The focus isn't HP, it's water. There are certainly dangers, but they don't carry guns. Usually.
There's going to be an encounter table for the desert. Almost all of the dangers are environmental, Damnation-Alley style.
The desert is hungry.
The desert is also a way to relax after bunker combat. The focus isn't HP, it's water. There are certainly dangers, but they don't carry guns. Usually.
There's going to be an encounter table for the desert. Almost all of the dangers are environmental, Damnation-Alley style.
- Twisters
- Quakes
- EMPIRE Patrols
- Quiet nights under the stars
The desert is hungry.
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