"Join Us Or DIE!!!"

The words just tumbled out of my mouth, and I regretted them as soon as I uttered them. I was GMing what looked like our final session of Wild Talents (transhuman, far future, sci fi version) for at least a while (and perhaps forever). These were the words of the Big Bad, the leader of the invading, universe hopping, barbarian, alien horde, and these guys were flat out stronger than the PCs. At least one of the PCs didn't like the position he was put in - he felt as if he were offered no choice and was essentially being railroaded to "join," and this is literally the last thing I want in a game. For a second, I thought about taking it all back, but hell, I was the GM, and I wouldn't allow a PC to do take backseys on an important decision made in the heat of the moment. In the end, a compromise was struck between the PCs and the Big Bad - the PCs joined, and the aliens would only occupy their universe for 5-10 thousand years on the way to domination of reality. In retrospect, I don't think my decision was that bad. Here are a couple factors to help you decide:

1) The PCs were more physically powerful than anything else in the game thus far, and flat out dominated (partially because of the version of the rules we were playing with). There were lots of diplomatic ramifications of the use of extreme force throughout the game, but the PCs could physically overcome anything until the alien horde. They knew it was coming, but didn't know how powerful it was.

2) The PCs largely ignored the horde, focusing instead on local diplomatic issues and immediate threats, until it hit them in the face. Part of our game setup was the impending threat of the horde, so it's not like they missed any hints.

3) We had intended to hack in Burning Wheel's social combat rules, because they're great (and work much better than their mechanically similar cousin rules for real combat, IMHO), but I forgot all about this until afterwards. That's a shame, because diplomacy was what won the day in the end (well, sort of won).

4) The PCs saw themselves getting torn apart by the horde in space, but proceeded straight to their leader without any subtlety. One PC (the one who complained) actually set a charge on his ship to blow up if things went to hell. He didn't use it. Let's just say I would've looked favorably upon interesting decisions besides fight or talk (you know, like escape or something creative). Also, one of the PCs could construct teleporters in a single round.

5) I certainly could've said something else besides "join us or die" that would give the PCs other options. Like: "Go back to your leaders and tell them my proposal. You have 5 hours, Earthlings. Don't be late. AHAHAHAHAHA!!!" But then this would've become more like a choose your own adventure instead of a rpg, right?

6) We definitely wanted to finish off this arc so Pat can run his west marshes game he's been talking about.

7) I really had no preconception about how all of this would turn out, and I actually had a lot more adventure planned for the evening. But it was all moot after this encounter, and it seemed like the obvious stopping point for the arc because it changed the game world so drastically.

Looking back after writing all this, it certainly seems to me like I didn't screw up. Though, I'm sure the PCs would add in 7 more points that bolster their side. At the very least, this seems like the flip side of Pat's stormtrooper post below (man, his low-level survival game is going to be a hell of a contrast to Wild Talents - I definitely think it'll work better than WT because I'm much more of an abstract spacey type than the other players...and most people I know).

Anyway, I'd sure appreciate any feedback our readers. You know, in the name of trying to become a better GM and all.

The Importance of Robust Settings...Or Not

Over the past couple years, I've played (or at least read) several games with varying levels of setting detail. Games like Planescape, L5R, and Mutants & Masterminds are chock full of detail that the players and GM can devour. Games like Burning Wheel and Wild Talents...not so much. With these latter games, I've generally created the setting during the first session (or over email) with the other players in the group. So the natural question is: Which way is better?

The games with robust settings have a lot going for them. They significantly decrease the work load for the GM, which from experience, can be a huge boon to maintaining an ongoing game. Given that a lot of players have tendencies toward the bad-ass Wolverine type player (brooding loner), settings give every player something shared, especially if they are encouraged to dive into the setting at the onset of the game and connect their characters to it in some way. Some players also love reading through the setting and figuring out where their characters fit in it. One of my fellow players loves the Mutants & Masterminds setting and gets jazzed whenever a familiar but unused face shows up. Also, robust settings can really help explain the tone of a game with an unfamiliar world, like Dark Heresy or L5R, to players.

But these types of huge settings can sometimes lead to problems. Even if warned that the GM has license to pick and choose, players can get upset when the setting isn't precisely translated in game. When I GM, I often feel that a well described setting is more constraining than enabling. I like the ability to flesh out the setting as the story demands - in a Wild Talents game I'm GMing right now, I've changed various setting elements on the fly that seemed hardwired in to me when each session started (like the underlying physics of the universe after our resident scientist, Dr. Epistemic, investigated the origin of a rift in space). And I think that players have more buy in from the outset if they've actually had a hand in creating the setting themselves.

In the end, I favor less setting rather than more. But as with all things rpg-related, it all seems to come back to the makeup of each group. Go with what your group needs to give you the best possible game.

What I love about RPGs, or The Problem of Logistics

If there's one thing I love about rpgs, it's playing them. And if there's one thing I don't like about rpg's, it's trying but not finding time to play them. The latter happens all too often.

Our Wild Talents game got off to a really nice start, but weekends filled up fast, and football season (the real football, meaning NotSoccer) as about to begin. Through January, playing rpgs on Sundays is basically shot for me. Priorities, you know.

Anyway, we've been having trouble scheduling our game, and now we're batting around the possibility of splitting the group and running them in parallel for a little. In the meantime, we still haven't nailed down a time to play regularly, and this was what it was all supposed to be about: getting back into the groove of a regular, biweekly game. Something to depend on.

Now, this isn't the fault of anyone in particular, but it just stinks and is all too common with gaming groups. The hardest part about gaming isn't the johnny on the spot creativity, synthesizing a ruleset, or strategizing a character build - it's logistics.

I'm just thankful that I'm getting involved with a Play by Post game.

More on Failure

Pat has been posting a lot.  I have not been been posting at all.  This is because he succeeds, while I fail.

This success to failure ratio has been reflected in our Wild Talents game, as Pat noted.  I'm the GM, and Pat's right: these high level characters succeed a lot, like 95% of the time.  I've generally found this to be pretty satisfying so far.  This dynamic allows the players to drive the story forward where they want it to go by choosing what types of rolls they want to make then, and then having the story travel down the avenue opened up by their success.  This also is fun for me, because I get to make fun stuff up about exactly how they succeed and thereby steer the story within the frame I've come up with.  (I particularly like it when the scientist succeeds on any of his multiple different types of knowledge skills, because I get to make up wonky sci-fi explanations about why the world works the way it does.)

But we are missing the element of uncertainty that flows from the clattering of the dice.  One of my friends who I used to play with (in law school, of course) is a bit of a gambler, and the only reason he played was to throw those bones and hope to catch lightning in a bottle.  Without the uncertainty, the electricity's all gone.

Here's our theorized solution (with a prelude): We're using the one roll engine mechanics, which not only tells you in a single roll if you succeed, but also how precisely or efficiently you succeed.  Moving forward, I'm going to focus on the narrative consequences that flow from inefficient or imprecise success.  If pc's don't succeed precisely, consequences will flow.  For example, if the diplomat manages to gather facts for an upcoming trial, but does so imprecisely, I'll say that he pissed off some other diplomats...and that'll be something the players will have to deal with.

From all this discussion, you may be able to tell that this game has really been challenging for me as a GM.  I'm very sensitive to the railroading issues Pat discusses below, and I try to avoid them at all costs.  I'm also trying to let the pc's shine because it's a high level game, but I want to put them in some tough situations (which I haven't yet, but trust me, it's coming soon - third session is coming up.)  And there's other usual GMing stuff, like keeping everyone involved, giving each character a chance to shine, being fair, keeping up pace, etc.  It's a fine balance, and it's become clear to me that context really matters.  I think the system we're using is really cool, but it's definitely making me think about GMing from new angles.   

Failure's never been so much fun.

Ultra-high-level roleplaying, and the perils thereof

A few quick hits from the weekend...

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We played our second session of Wild Talents on Sunday, and a few things became clear. We are — by choice — playing a very high-powered game, with each character being the head of some guild or private army or merchant union. This means, by extension, that our story involves very high-level, world-threatening themes. Again, this is cool. What we realized in our Sunday session, however, was that our very powerful characters were going to succeed in most die rolls put before them, so we had to figure out a way to keep the game challenging while we mobilized starfleets, influenced planetary law and rerouted energy shipments (all high-level stuff that went off without a hitch due to our insanely high stats). But failure — or the threat thereof — is a good thing, and we’ve made some changes to ensure that the dice still serve a purpose in our Wild Talents game.

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Black Sun Games’ official Web site is up and running, though most of the links don’t work. I’m continually impressed by these guys: By all accounts, they’re doing everything right as far as opening a successful, long-term game store in Chicago. Check out their banner...looks like some Flames of War minis in the background? I’ll have to check that game out.

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I joined Dark Reign, the Warhammer 40k RPG fan site, and was simply bowled over by the volume of fan-generated content on there. They’ve got GM aids, full-fledged sourcebooks, adventure hooks, random encounter tables and alternate rules. The best part is that (it appears) any member can contribute articles, which really has my creative gears turning. Shouldn’t be tough to find inspiration — I’m about 200 pages away from finishing up the massive Eisenhorn omnibus by Dan Abnett, which means I’ve been totally immersed in 40k for the last month or two.