Plot Opportunities
Last night, I had the opportunity to watch the movie Battlestar Galactica: Razor*. As a fan of both the re-imagining and the original series, I went in with high expectations that were fueled by the slew of previews shown during Flash Gordon. And indeed, the movie did have an excellent concept and over-all plot, but it ran into serious problems due to some tricky aspects of story-telling.
*Note: This is not a review. This does not contain spoilers. You may read-on without without fear of either, and need no familiarity with the show.
The way I look at plot development, there are two ways to lay it out:Â Plot Devices, and Plot Opportunity.
Plot devices are characters, objects, or events which are introduced into a story to send the plot in a particular direction. Most often, plot devices are encountered at the beginning a story in order to “get the ball rolling.”
Plot opportunities are characters, objects, or events which are introduced into a story to provide potential directions for the story to expand in.
I universally prefer plot opportunities to plot devices, which are overly linear and I am convinced must run on railroad tracks. The worst example of a plot device is a MacGuffin, a plot device which is completely irrelevant to the story - these feel particularly linear and contrived.
How do you create plot opportunities? By placing the characters near a lot of action, however that is defined in the story. By placing them close enough to the action to interact with it, there is a great deal of potential for the characters to explore, and like ripples in a bond, whatever direction the characters proceed in, they will encounter more action.
Placing plot opportunities in a story is a good way to let it grow organically, by creating potential and letting it develop in a process that is more natural and less contrived than one directed and processed by plot devices.
Splitting Up The Party
Eventually, it happens in almost every game: the party is forced to split up for one reason or another. Here are some tips to keep in mind when splitting up the party:
Keep the scenes short. When the party is split up, it’s ideal to keep the scenes as short as possible, and switch back and forth between the sub-groups as often as possible. The longer people are waiting the play, the more bored they will become, and the more likely fatigue is to set in. As a rule, I try not to keep anyone waiting more than fifteen or twenty minutes to play again.
Next Session Finish. If the group is being split into two, and the session is either nearing its close or the party will be split up for some time, it may be a good idea to send half the group home for the night, and intend to do their scenes at the start of the next session, perhaps before the others arrive.
Party Division Means Talent Division. When splitting up the party, keep in mind that you are also splitting up the party’s talents and abilities - meaning that they should be able to accomplish their respective goals even without the other party members.
Fill Out The Groups With NPCs. This can be especially useful is the party splitting up was not by choice, i.e. if several PCs were captured and must now be rescued. By adding in NPCs, you provide players with the talents that they might be missing due to the party being split up, and you also create an opportunity for the players of the missing PCs to still participate in the game by temporarily assuming control of the NPCs.
Beware Telepathy and Teleports. If the party split up voluntarily, there is a high likelihood that they will be able to communicate, especially if they have access to magic, psionics, or advanced technology. It is also quite possible that they will have access to instant, near-instant, or extremely fast transportation, which can allow the party to reunite quickly. If you have proceeded further with one sub-group than another, it is possible that one will call in the other for reinforcements - this can negate actions which the group has previously role-played out and completed.
Division of Rewards.  Be sure that the rewards are divided evenly among the group, if one set gains a lot more experience than the other, this can create an unbalance in the party. Additionally, there can be problems if equipment is not divided evenly or fairly among the group.
Make Sure It Fits. Splitting up the party should ideally be somewhat rare, and something that only happens when it fits the story, simply because it can cause a large number of potential problems which likely would never come up if the party did not split up.
How do you handle splitting up the party?
Fan Service in RPGs
There is an aspect of gaming that has receieved little attention, yet I believe it can be found in the history any RPG group that has been together for any length of time. Fan service has appeared in almost every medium in one form or another, whether it was called an “easter egg,” “outside reference,” or whatever else. RPGs are no exception.
In fantasy RPGs, perhaps the most commonly encountered (and certainly the most infamous) fan services are something relating to LotR, or Monty Python. Another famous example of fan service which has cropped up more recently are the Sword-Chucks (I believe another reference was made in one of the bigger card games, but I cannot find it.)
My first personal experience with a fan service in an RPG was in a DnD game, where our party had landed on a island occupied by vampires with a striking similarity to those in the Blood Omen series. As we explored, we began meeting several characters who were obviously based on primary characters from that same series. This did nothing to enhance the story by itself, but it made everyone at the table who had any experience with that series to suddenly find the game more enjoyable, if just because of those outside ties.
When including a fan service in your game, becareful that you are not accidentally falling prey to GMPC or the Pet NPC problems - and that your players don’t think that is what’s happening either.
How have you taken advantage of fan services in your game? When’ve you seen it done well, and what pitfalls have you seen attached to it?
Bullseye Syndrome
There’s a phenomenon I’ve been encountering a lot lately in various games and other fiction, as far as I know, there is no name for this phenomenon, though I have been referring to it as the Bullseye Syndrome, named after the Marvel Anti-Hero and his ability.
In the comics, Bullseye was not a superhuman, alien, mutant, or anything else of the sort. He, like Daredevil, is simply a very fit person with enhanced senses and skills which border on the impossible. As his name implies, Bullseye has perfect aim, which he is able to use to turn anything into a lethal weapon: pencils become impaling weapons, playing cards slice people’s throats, and peanuts are launched and lodged in someone’s throat, choking them to death.
Any situation where a skill or talent is taken to the limits, to a purely theoretical level where that skill becomes, for lack of a better word, broken. This is most often encountered in superhero games, though it is not uncommon to find it in fantasy or science fiction, or any game which has dice pools which accumulate/roll over, like Sorcerer (if I remember the mechanics correctly).
In some mediums, the Bullseye Syndrome is rather appropriate, especially in the superhero, science fiction, or fantasy genres. In some instances, it can simply cause the story to break down, or it simply doesn’t fit with the themes and type of fiction that is being portrayed.
Many players love to embrace the Bullseye Syndrome because of the power that it allows their characters to wield; but more importantly to many players, because of the theoretical plausibility of that power. Ultimately, however, the question of allowing it comes down to one of scaling. If the ability exceeds the capabilities of other abilities, or is impossible to defend or counter against, then it is most likely time to remove or adjust it, regardless of its potential plausibility.
The true reason this syndrome can turn into a problem is that it changes the way the game works in a fundamental fashion. An outside example could be sniping. In many of my games, I have told my players that if they engage in sniping tactics to take out unwitting enemies safely from a distance, eventually their enemies will do the same to them, and they will die a surprising and unsatisfying death.
In my experience, these kinds of abilities, and their unblockable/uncounterable nature, encourage the breakdown of enjoying play.
How do you deal with your players and these vaguely realistic, but broken, possibilities?
Starting An Adventure: Part Three
In my last two articles, I discussed gathering the group and preparation time before an adventure. Today, I’ll conclude with getting the players involved.
One of the best games I’ve run, as far as role-playing encounters are concerned, was a game in which the party was returning to a town which happened to be the home town of one of the wizard. The wizard’s father, also a wizard, still lived in town, in a sizable house. Needing both a place to rest and eat as well as information, the party went to visit the wizard’s father, seeking both.
I never told them the encounter was going to be role-playing heavy, but from the moment they entered the house I only spoke as the father or the GM directed actions, describing environments, etc. When the players tried to jump ahead of the father’s questioning and being caught up, he would interrupt them firmly but nicely and continue along with what he wanted to talk about. This forced the players to role-play with him a bit.
This encounter wound up lasting nearly two hours, for the duration of it everyone being in character nearly a hundred percent of the time, simply focusing on dialogue and characterization. There was more character development in that session, and more fun role-playing all squeezed into those two hours than I could have possibly expected before the start of the session. (This encounter also had the added bonus of added impact when the father was later assassinated.)
The lesson I took from this session was that to get players involved, it must be made clear to them, either implicitly or explicitly, that it is in their interest to get involved and participate. As soon as players begin to respond and get involved, it is important to reward that behavior immediately, at least at first, to help cement that it is the proper thing to do and it will make the game more enjoyable for everyone.
Another simple way to get your group involved is to ask them directly what they and their characters want. If you are lucky enough to get usable responses, design the adventure/campaign with these responses in mind. If your players were honest and intelligible, you’ve probably built in an irresistable hook.
How do you get players involved?
Starting An Adventure: Part Two
Yesterday, in response to a question by Streetline in the StumbleUpon roleplaying forums I discussed gathering the group at the start of an adventure. Today, I’ll continue with preparation time.
Most of my campaigns are designed and run in a non-linear fashion so as to give PCs as much freedom as desired in directing the story. As a result, my preparation time is split into two categories: Campaign Preparation, and Adventure Preparation.
Campaign preparation is almost entirely comprised of becoming familiar with the rules, setting, and world that the campaign will be taking place in. Keeping things open-ended and providing the players with a lot of freedom means I need to be at least familiar with everything. While the rules and circumstances don’t need to be memorized, I need to understand them well enough that a quick scan will provide me with everything I need.
The rest of campaign preparation is spent talking to the players, and finding out what kind of campaign they want to play, and what kind of characters they’re likely to play, backgrounds they’re considering for them, and general goals/directions for the characters. This can all change later on, but it puts me on the same wavelength as my players, and helps me make better use of my prep time by focusing it on what will be relevant to the players.
Adventure preparation is what I do before every session. This is where I draw maps, roll up NPCs, prepare stats for creatures they are likely to encounter, and any other preparation that seems necessary for the upcoming session. I also make a point of reviewing any likely points that the players are likely to deviate from what I have prepared, and alternate paths that they are likely to take.
On average, I spend about one hour preparing for every four hours of gaming. This can change depending on how intense the session will be, how much is being recycled from the past, and how divergent the players have been.
I will conclude next time with getting players involved.
Starting An Adventure: Part One
Streetline from StumbleUpon recently posed a great question in the roleplaying forums: How do you start an adventure? How much prep time (if any) goes into your campaigns and plots? How do you get players involved and roleplaying?
I suggest everyone take a look at that thread, if just to read CastorQuinn’s response, which is thorough and thoughtful.
My personal favorite method of gathering PCs together in a group is the idea of a pre-existing relationship or friendship. The “He’s my brother” logic creates the kind of tight bond that is ideal for most adventuring games. Which brings me to the main issue of getting everything started.
In adventuring games, it is ideal to get the game started quickly, with a certain level of trust and cooperation in the group implied, simply for the purposes of getting things done, and making sure the group stays together for the most part, despite various forces driving them in different directions.
In some games, this kind of relationship is the exact opposite of what is desired. The Paranoia RPG, for instance, hopes to create a feeling of strain and distrust between the party members, who are encouraged to keep potentially deadly secrets from eachother, constantly expecting a betrayal.
In story driven games, a cohesive party often isn’t appropriate for the course of the game and the story. The players may not all be on one side, or they may be parts of competing sects/factions within a larger unifying force, such as many of White Wolf’s Vampire games.
One shot adventures are another story all-together. The group is only, supposedly, together for this one adventure or event, so fate or employment become much more acceptible motivations for working together.
Generally, my favored method of getting characters together at the start of a game is to let the players decide. In all but the most linear of games, or those following the patterns of Paranoia, I allow the players to discuss their concepts as much as desired prior to the game. I feed them information on the starting region and what kind of campaign they are going to participate in, and let them figure out how they belong together.
Generally, the players seem to come up with a good idea, which engages their characters quickly and provides background and/or plot hooks for me to use.
Tomorrow, I’ll discuss prep time and getting players involved.
New House Rules
With the new cinematic campaign about to get started, I thought I would institute some new house rules, on a trial basis.
Private Character Generation. Players may create their character sheets, in their entirety, prior to play, and without Narrator supervision. This includes the rolling of stats, HP, and the like. I trust my players, and realize that they will be the only ones to enjoy the game any less should they cheat. Players are encouraged to take their time creating their character, and are still welcome to do so in my presence and with my consultation.
Stat Re-rolls. After rolling their stats, and recording the result of each individual die, players may choose to re-roll a single die, with the new value replacing the die’s old value.
The Assured Death Rule. Players may, at any time, ask if the course of action they are pondering or pursuing will result in any sort of assured death, or any situation which is nearly impossible to survive.
The 80% Rule. In the event of PC death, retirement, or write-out, the new character may be created with starting XP equivalent to 80% of the party’s average XP total
Highlander Trench Coats. I believe I’ve seen another name for this, but I cannot recall it. In Highlander, swords as big as claymores are often stored in trench coats, cloaks, or something equivalent. They may be carried around for a near endless period of time, without revealing themselves or proving any real hindrance. Similar restrictions will be waived for PCs when appropriate.
The Respec Rule. Characters may, when appropriate time and training is available between adventures, lose the benefits of old feats in exchange for new ones which may be selected. Skill ranks may be re-assigned similarly.
Changing the Game
I’ve recently begun working on a new campaign which will be starting this weekend, a d20 Modern game of Dark Matter, a game of paranormal investigation, with the Future, Future Tech, Cyberscape, and Modern Magic supplements.
Aside from the equipment in the various supplements, very little in this new game is new as far as mechanics are concerned. The new directions of the game, the subtleties that proper play demands, such as the low-key nature of magic, and the widespread disbelief of it, these things are more than sufficient to make the campaign, and the game itself, seem completely new.
I’m not the only one who feels this way, either. My players have proved to be just as excited as I am at the prospect of playing this new game, all because the theme of the game has been changed from “Supernatural” to “Paranormal.”
There are a number of other ways to take a setting or situation which is ordinarily normal and change it in minor ways so as to completely change the feel/course of the game. A high-tech or sci-fi game could be altered by a very primitive understanding of the technology used - it was found at some point in the past, and while the secrets of its use, and possibly maintainence, have been discovered, the secrets of is workings have not. This minor change opens up numerous new paths for the campaign, and changes the way players will look at things.
A Star Wars game could be changed by altering some mechanics of the Force such that drawing on its power drains life from other creatures - sort of a slower and more cosmic version of the Dark Sun Defiler. This would make little difference to many Dark Side users, especially Sith, but it would place a new level of moral questions for PCs to deal with.
Have you ever implemented any changes like this to change a game around?
Dealing with Identical PCs
First, an apology for the lack of update Friday. I had thought the server was set to automatically post the article Friday morning, but I made an error saving the post, and thus it was never posted. Here is the post from Friday. Normal posting will resume tomorrow.
No matter how much diversity any game offers, whether class and level based or point based, the problem identical PCs will eventually crop up. There are several circumstances under which people are likely to generate identical PCs, and several degress to which they can be “identical.”
The most common place to see identical PCs is at low level or in low power games, where the characters haven’t had as much time to diversify and “bloom.” The best solution in this case can be to simply wait, and give the characters time to develop, in personality and character development as well as on paper.
Some players come to the table with similar concepts for their characters in mind, which leads to similar character building or execution. If this is the case, try to emphasize the little differences in the characters, especially the ones that don’t make a difference as far as rules and game mechanics. If two characters are wielding two different swords that are near identical, place them in a role-playing situation where the differences are seen as important, either due to a fighting tradition which glamorizes one, or the weapon has some symbolic importance based in religion or myths.
Some players will purposefully build characters which are very similar, often creating a reason for this in their characters backgrounds, such as being siblings, or trained by the same teacher or order. If this is the case, you may wish to offer the players an extra bonus for this, because even if the mechanics don’t suggest it, two duelists/slashers/casters acting as a team or in tandem should be more effective than the two of them separately. Of course, this bonus shouldn’t be offered all the time (unless the mechanics normally call for it.)
Another common place to find identical PCs is among spell casters who are able to learn and teach new spells. PCs who wield magic with this kind of mechanic will often share spells freely with each other, in order to benefit the party. Try offering your players a way to specialize in different ways. If necessary, rule that only a certain number of spells or spells per level may be known by any caster - this will encourage them to learn different abilities in the interests of versatility.
Universally, the best way to deal with identical PCs is through role-playing. No matter how identical PCs may be on paper, they will almost certainly have different personalities, inclinations, mannerisms, and beliefs. Shining a light on this makes characters unique and special, and provides players with a reason not to min/max, another common cause of identical PCs because of bottle necking.
How do you deal with identical PCs?
