‘Winning’ In RPGs Part 2 of 3
Yesterday, I discussed the desire to experience a win moment in almost every game, including RPGs. I also described traditional ways to win, and began discussing how this can lead to power-gaming. Today, I continue along those same lines, and explore the ugly side of winning in RPGs.
A behavior which is considered almost universally bad in RPGs, that of playing the lone “Chaotic Evil” character, may be attributed to a strong and unfulfilled desire to win. By playing the Chaotic Evil character, a player is able to set themselves at odds with everyone, both PCs and NPCs alike. Competition is instantly written into the story, and the player feels free to “win,” if only by being the last one alive.
Another behavior, similarly maligned, is that of the Munchkin, who must constantly be the best in every conceivable way. This kind of play is often driven by the thought that the winner is the “best.” While this kind of thinking is often inappropriate in RPGs, it can be especially appropriate because of the self-centered attitude with which it is asked, “the winner is the best.”
I’ve seen experienced players, who have gone for years without falling into this trap suddenly become stuck. What brings them to this train of thought? I think that often players who feel “topped” by other players, or consistantly deprived of win moments will begin to at least feel like they are somehow losing. Other players who previously played or recently started playing MMORPGs may also be prone to this behavior, as it is considered more appropriate in many online RPGs.
How do you help deal with these tendencies? By providing win moments which encourage the style of play desired. I’ll discuss this more tomorrow.
‘Winning’ In RPGs Part 1 of 3
Most games outside of RPGs have a moment which can be described as the “win moment,” a time when a player (or players) are granted victory, and the game concludes. While the rest of the game is important and often enjoyable, it is for this “win moment” that the game is played.
Traditional ways to win games include:
- Eliminating all other players and forces in the game
- Immobilizing all other players and forces in the game
- Scoring enough points, or goals
- Defeating the final boss
- Attaining another specific and discrete goal
In RPGs, however, the emphasis is instead placed on the journey taken throughout the game and not necessarily on it’s conclusion, which may not be the climax of the story or the most rewarding part of it. Despite this, many players come to RPGs with a desire to a win moment, though it is not always realized or expressed. Fortunately, many principles of winning in other games may be transferred to RPGs, and often are. Many games, for instance, have the goal being to remove a villain from the game, or retrieving (or destroying) a specific item of power.
The problem with the desire to acquire win moments in RPGs is that the continuous nature of the game often makes the moments feel too short lived, which can drive some players to become power-gamers.
Tomorrow, I will continue this discussion and focus on the bad aspects of win moments in RPGs, how they can become problems, and how to spot them before they do.
Making Battle Mats Easier and Faster
StupidRanger recently brought up the issue of Battle Mats, and I thought I would share an idea I recently had, and will be trying out at my next gaming session.
At the hardware store, you can find very thin, flexible lengths of chain. These generally sell for less than a dollar a foot (as I recall they were much cheaper than that several years ago), and come in sizes so thin and small that you can bend them into any shape desired, which they will remain in until moved.
These lengths of chain can be used to quickly set up borders on a battle mat, whether for buildings, rooms, roads, rivers, bridges, or even for a creature so large use of an actual miniature is laughable.
The main upsides to using chains (or anything similar) for this are that it is easier to set up the battle mat, and especially faster to change between scenes or what is shown on it. No more drawing and then erasing, with either pencil and eraser or wet erase markers and paper towels.
If you have a table which is jostled or moved regularly during game play, it may be wiser to use a slightly larger chain which won’t be disturbed so easily.
Has anyone else tried this?
Posting interruption
I would like to apologize for the interruption in posting - my computer has broken, and repairing it is taking longer than initially expected.
Normal posting will resume on Monday.
Thank you for your patience.
When Dice Role-play
One of my favorite events from running a game came during my first time running DnD 3.5. My players played a group of gnolls running from Neogi who were attempting to kidnap them and use them as slaves. After escaping the Neogi themselves, a Dominated Umberhulk was released to track them down and capture them. While the players attempted to run, the Umberhulk used its Confusion ability to force one of them into melee. The gnoll did not survive the second attack, which was a critical hit.
Another player played the gnoll’s twin brother, and on seeing his sibling fall he turned around and charged the Umberhulk. His attack was a natural twenty, and the critical would be confirmed five times consecutively, dealing more than enough damage to down the Umberhulk.
The scenario we decided had just played out went along the lines that the brother had struck out in rage, and tapped into a resevoir of power and strength he did not normally have access to. This is the sort of thing that could never be planned, but has an inescapable magical quality, as though the actions truly were destiny, and not just a roll of the dice or plot twist invented by the narrator.
Has anyone else had a similar kind fo experience?
Picking Up On Player Cues and Expectations
My first attempt to run a persistent game was at college in Texas. I ran Second Edition Dungeons and Dragons for a group of students I had met during orientation, and three sessions into the campaign, they led a contingent of Dwarfs against an invading force of Orcs, Goblins, Ogres, and Trolls. This battle would mark the fruition of the efforts of the PCs thus far, and the opening battle of what would become a large scale war.
One of the fighters from the PCs party charged forward, attacking the front line of goblins. The fighter slashed his way through, downing two goblins in process, with the Dwarfs closing in immediately behind him, each downing another goblin. When I announced:
“Okay, the fighter downed two goblins, and the Dwarfs each took another, for a total of NINE dead goblins. Good first round, guys.” the players barely reacted, and I was baffled. This continued until half-way through the battle when one of the players called a time out.
“Listen, our old Dungeon Master always gave us kill descriptions. Whenever something died, he would pause combat long enough to explain exactly how, and if anyone was reacting to it. I think we’ll enjoy the game a lot more if you could do that for us.” This was the best thing he could have said: He explained what I could do to help them enjoy the game more, and he did so in a constructive and positive way.
Armed with this knowledge, I began describing deaths in new ways I knew would give my players the reward they asked for. I would now describe an orc being killed by a critical hit on a charge attack with something like, “He raises his axe to meet you on your charge, but a last second burst of speed on your part takes him by surprise as you drive your sword into his heart, a look of disbelief and anger fading from his eyes as his body goes limp.”
The change on the part of my players? They were now standing around the table, too excited to remain in their seats. They cheered and groaned as the battle turned. Having told me what kinds of descriptions they wanted, they were able to cue me more easily with what they wanted to happen. They described their actions in more detail, describing the look and feel their character gave off as they did it. My descriptions and interpretations of events were able to change to build on theirs.
Unfortunately, player cues and expectations aren’t always expressed as clearly and directly as they were for me that night. While direct communication with players about this sort of thing is always good, it isn’t always appropriate, especially in the middle of a session. What can you do if you find yourself in the middle of a session, but unsure what it is your players want?
Get excited. When you get excited and put that kind of energy into the game, your players will mimic it. Excited players are more animated and more involved, which means they’ll have many more opportunities to cue you, consciously or unconsciously, about what they want.
Put the ball in their court. Whether it is in a combat situation, or a role-playing encounter, forcing your players to not only take action, but react to something, will give you a strong idea of what they want. Make sure that they have several choices, and that they’re aware of what they are in general, but be careful not to limit what they can do or how they can react here.
Have an NPC ask them. A trusted NPC works best in this situation, or at least one trusted enough that the players will talk to whoever you choose. Simply having a bartender ask the PCs what they think about the events going on around them can yield useful information.
Have the players provide descriptions. A PC manages to get a kill, or successfully use a skill in a significant way, and they deserve to see their vision of it played out. After the general results and circumstances have been established around an event, have a player provide the actual description for the results. This also provides you an opportunity to learn how they see things in general, and look for patterns which you can use.
Does anyone else know of methods to elicit and pick up on player cues?
GMing with Multiple Laptop Screens
Many people, like myself, now use laptops at the gaming table to hold notes, charts, world information, access the internet for resources, hold and modify (or generate) NPC character sheets, keep PDFs of any books needed (for quick and unobserved reference) and a thousand other things. All in all, this proved a good decision and resource, but it posed some additional problems I hadn’t encountered before.
I think I am not alone in experiencing what I call Narrator Paranoia, that irrational fear that if you leave the table for a few minutes to get a drink, go to the bathroom or take a quick smoke break, players will take the chance to look through notes and folders. When my notes were primarily physical and spread out through numerous notebooks, binders, and rulebooks, it was easy to tell if anyone had been through it while I was gone. There was too much (and it was often too messy) for my players to be able to reassemble it sufficiently that I wouldn’t notice the change. With computer files, this is far easier.
The other new problem I encountered was the issue of showing players a map, excerpt, or some other piece of information that I had not printed out: I could only show them on the computer. I was afraid that while looking at said item, they would accidentally see that I had certain files open, which could give away information: the simple act of a player seeing that a map is labeled “Lich Lair 3 of 13″ can completely change the way players look at an adventure.
The solution to these problems came to me when I switched to Linux in the form of Virtual Desktops, a feature which allows users to have multiple desktops operating simultaneously and separately. This creates the possibility of switching to a blank desktop quickly, having only open solely for players to see legitimate material, or even a desktop with false information to mislead snoopy players.
If you happen to already have Linux or Mac on your laptop, you should have access to this feature already. If you’re a Windows user, I suggest “VirtuaWin,” a free program which allows you to have up to nine virtual desktops operating at once. You can find the program at http://virtuawin.sourceforge.net/
