Monday, March 30, 2015

Building a Better Player

So much of what I talk about is about running games.  But this one is for the players out there.  I have learned a lot about what makes a good player, a bad player, a great player, a problem player.  This is a brief collection of tips and recommendations for how to be a better player.  Some of these are universal, some of these are my own personal taste, but these constitute my advice on how to be a better player.

Share Focus
Multi-participant games require sharing.  That's something that you were probably taught in kindergarten, but it's a thing that is really important when it comes to gaming.  What you really need to share in the RPG, whether tabletop or LARP, is focus.  This is one of the things I picked up in improv, but basically, the narrative should shift from one character to another, from one player to another, as the story flows.  Think of it like a conversation.  Boring conversations happen when one person talks all the time and the other person can't get a word in edgewise, sharing focus in game is giving the other person time to speak.
This can be done passively, but it can also be done actively.  Some of my favorite players are those who delegate story tasks, taking players who aren't actively engaged in things and putting the focus on them.  Sometimes this can be a matter of faction leading, if you are a faction leader, having minions that you send to do things is a good methodology.  
Ideally, everyone should get to do something at some point, but part of being a good player is being willing to share focus with your fellow players.  

Yes, and...
Another concept from improv that I think makes for a better player is the incorporation of the principle of "Yes, And..."  In improv, it's about taking what someone adds to a scene and building upon it.  When someone says, "hey, look at that kangaroo"  you don't say, "there's no kangaroo"  because that sets the scene back to square one.  Instead you say, "Yea, and I think he's stealing your car!" accepting what someone gives you and going with it.  
This can be very useful because it's part of constructing the game world. Most games that I run have a framework world, one in which the large details are filled out, with the smaller details remaining nebulous until relevant.  This is the case for nearly any fictional world.  You don't know what color Harry Dresden's socks are until it matters for the story or characterization purposes.  Filling in these details and building upon them can be an excellent thing for players to do in game.  
Some Storytellers don't like when players fill things in, and that's a matter of taste, but I'm happy to have players drop in details like frequented restaurants with revolutionary themes, foul mouthed baby goats, or past experiences.  By working together to fill in and following the principle of "Yes, And..." a player can help build the world around.

Engage with the Content
That said, one of my greatest frustrations in a game is when there is well developed content that is left unengaged with.  So, as I said, I like to develop a framework world, one in which there are several overarching rules of reality, aspects of the world that are set in stone, and then collaboratively fill in details, often sharing them using a wiki or google document.  I get very frustrated when players don't engage with this important information.
Now, I'm not holding Storytellers blameless on this.  Every ST has fallen into the trap of writing an encyclopedia worth of content for a three session game and expecting players to know it backwards and forewards.  I have recently begun to hold myself to a design principle based on the first page of Grant Morrison's All Star Superman, which sums up the essentials of Kal El's story in 8 words and 4 pictures.  
But even that sometimes seems to miss the mark.  Overall, as a Player, try your best to actually engage the game world content.  Don't treat it as pointless or irrelevant.  Read the backstory, look at the map, or at the very least, create a character that doesn't know history or geography if you want to not do so.  Briefing history experts on basic history content "So George Washington is...?" slows down the flow of game and makes it less fun for everyone.   

Meta for Good, Not For Self
Metagaming is a controversial subject and may get its own blog post at some point, but as a player, there are some overall guidelines.  Metagaming is not always bad, especially if doing it improves the game for other participants and does not benefit your character too much.  This is something best provided by example.  I've had multiple occasions where a character wandered off mid action.  The rest of the party was engaged in some dramatic scene that wasn't the specialty of the character and they decided that their character would leave and go elsewhere because it wasn't 'in-character' for them to stick around.  This made it extremely difficult to maintain the game because that demand of focus split up what would otherwise be a really dramatic moment in game.  
In this case, a little meta-gaming would allow everyone to remain part of the game session for a scene and wouldn't create any advantage for the player in question.  Another model of metagaming comes in the engagement with the pace of plot.  Players can try to achieve too much in a single session in a way that would skip over important parts of a story.  Recognizing that progress is sometimes throttled in order to provide opportunities for focus sharing or to preserve a longer narrative thread can make it so more people can engage with things and help others.  But sometimes this takes an understanding of the meta-aspects of game.  
Now, don't ever meta-game for your own benefit.  If anything, meta-game against yourself.  If you the player see someone invisible in the room, don't restrict what you say, get really explicit.  Spread information around and make it interesting.  

CvC, not PvP
Games feature conflict.  That's not news.  But it's important that the conflict stay within the narrative.  Many games fall apart because the conflict within the games becomes a conflict between players.  The distinction I've seen in terms of terminology revolves around the term PvP.  The term PvP refers to Plaver versus Player and is often used to distinguish games where conflict is commonly between player characters.  However, I prefer the term CvC, Character versus Character.  Something that is important to remember as a participant in a game is that all the participants should be working towards the same goal, telling a good story.  When the characters get into conflict with each other, it should be in the service of story.  
What this means as a player is two fold.  One, Players should be selective about the conflict between characters.  Not avoidant, but try to make it a matter of character tension, not a matter of player tension.  Don't agitate against a player you don't like, follow a narrative reason for conflict.  My own tendency is to choose my friends as my enemies.  
Two, when a conflict comes to a head, make sure that you keep in mind that the person on the other end of the conflict is a person too.  When you lose, even if your character dies, recognize that the fellow player didn't set out to hurt you, but that it was part of the narrative conflict.  Even more important, when you win, recognize that the fellow player has been a good sport about things, give them that respect.  Those actions can keep things from becoming too acrimonious between players.

Trust your Fellow Participants 
Which ties into the larger principle of trust.  In an ideal world, we'd all trust each other implicitly and give nobody a reason to distrust us, but we're often in a position where we don't really know our fellow participants very well.  In these positions, I think it's very important to extend trust to people and try and craft an environment where everyone can work together.  Try and find ways to build trust with other participants and treat everyone with respect.  
Trust is one of the most essential elements to a game and there's a degree to which the level of trust limits the level of engagement in the game.  Part of that is being clear when people violate your trust, but part of it is making sure that you don't violate other people's trust.  Ultimately, one can only be accountable for one's own behavior, but as a player, that means that you should follow the golden rule of trust and not do anything that would violate someone else's trust.  

Communicate with Your Storyteller!
Which also translates to the Storyteller.  While this is one that I think sometimes depends on the player-ST relationship, but I feel that it's important to keep your Storyteller in the loop.  As a storyteller, I can't set things up for your plans to succeed if I don't know what they are.  I can't facilitate you having the dramatic confrontation with your nefarious uncle if I don't know that you want one.  Some STs use foreknowledge of plans to screw over PCs, but that's not me and that's not something I recommend.  Instead, being open with your ST allows the ST to set you up to succeed or fail or at least have an interesting experience.  
And if there's something you don't like about what's going on, communicate with your Storyteller.  I've had many games fall apart over issues that nobody mentioned.  Storytellers aren't omniscient, we don't know everything that's going on in everybody's minds/experiences.  If there is some aspect of a game that you want more or less of, if there's something going on that you wish wasn't or something not happening that you wish was, let the Storyteller know.  If someone is ruining your experience, let the Storyteller know!
And if they don't take you seriously, or treat your statements with contempt and disrespect, leave the game.  But a good Storyteller will want to respect the needs and wishes of the community.  They might explain to you some reason that things are done a certain way, some aspect of pacing or experience with a given technique that explains why they've made a certain decision, but they might also say, wow, I hadn't thought of it from that angle.  That's a very good suggestion, I'm going to think about that and maybe incorporate it.  But please, communicate with your Storyteller.

Thursday, March 19, 2015

What is the Point of Experience (Points)?

What is the point of experience points?  Nearly every game uses them, or at least some variation on them(Karma, Advancement Points, etc.), but what is the actual point of them? And more importantly, are they appropriate for every situation? and do we use them to do too much?

What is Experience?
So, at its base level, experience is a marker of character advancement, a way of representing character change through accomplishment.  As the character achieves goals, they get better at what they do.  But it is something more than that.  Experience points are not just a manifestation of learning, they are a manifestation of story form and to a certain degree a relic of the story forms of early games.  Dungeons and Dragons and fantasy narratives in general are based around a certain unlikely hero story form.  In that sort of story, which draws heavily on traditions of fairy tales, fantasy stories and bildunsromans, the hero begins the story the victim of a villainy or lack and cannot right that villainy or liquidate that lack until they are stronger.
Experience points become the method to explain that strengthening process.  It shows how Conan the boy can become Conan the Barbarian(and slay Thulsa Doom).  It explains how Meriadoc Brandybuck can go from scrumper of apples to slayer of Witch Kings(and liberator of the Shire).  It explains how Rand al'Thor can...do whatever it is he does(I didn't actually read that book series).   Experience points started as a structure to allow for that kind of storytelling.

Variations on Experience Points
In other games, Experience has been adapted but rarely abandoned entirely.  The classic model of Dungeons and Dragons is the linear advancement model.  Experience points buy levels, which progress along upwards power curves.  Other games use point buy systems, where you get generic experience points that are spent to raise specific skills/powers/abilities, representing a manifestation of effort at self-improvement.  This system allows for more nuanced development, but can also lead to oddly unbalanced characters or incongruous advancement(I learned a lot during our fight with that Mummy, like how to better influence local politics).  Some games use targetted achievement systems, where using a specific skill makes it improve.
Games also vary how experience is gained.  The classic model of Dungeons and Dragons is killing things.  Other games use story advancement, achieving plot points or good role playing to earn experience points.  Many targetted achievement systems mark experience through breakthrough moments, where outstanding success marks an opportunity for improvement.  My personal favorite is Dungeon World, where you get experience points whenever you fail at something.
What all these have in common is that they all represent an upwards power curve.  Characters start weak and get stronger.  But that strength is more than just symbolic representation.

Experience as Influence on Narrative
More experience equals more power, and more power equals more influence on the narrative.  Ultimately, a change in power level allows the PC to do more things, to interact with parts of the world that were inaccessible before, to take on enemies that previously eluded them.  This is both good and bad.  For games where everyone advances together and is part of a single team/faction, this can generally add up to the world becoming more the playground of the PCs.
However, this breaks down when you get to games that have multiple groups competing for influence over the narrative.  While experience points are not the sole method of influencing game narratives, they are a part of the overall equation.  When there is a significant power differential between characters in a game, those that have a lot more power are able to exercise a lot more control over the narrative. In these cases, experience point differentials can be a significant problem, because there is very little as disengaging as feeling like you have no influence over the game.

Arguing Against XP
This is one of the reasons that I'm strongly opposed to the current system of experience points being used in most ongoing LARPs and why I think LARPs can take something from standard tabletop practice.
1. I don't believe in XP as an OOC reward system
Some people have more time than others.  Some people have access to more money than others.  Some people have skills that others lack.  Depending on the game, these can be turned directly into narrative influence by volunteering/buying things for the game/making objects for the game.  This disengages people who don't have access to the same resources but still want to participate.
2. I don't believe in an arbitrary universal starting point.
In the D&D games I've played, when you bring in a new character, that character's level is related to the level of the other characters in game.  It might be average level-1 or same as the lowest level character or experience equal to whoever in the party has the least, but almost nobody forces you to bring a level 1 character into a level 12 game, even if everyone else started at level 1 initially.  But in many LARPs I've been to, new characters start out at starting level even if there are characters in the game walking around with hundreds of XP.  I think that LARPs can learn from tabletops here, establishing XP floors that allow new characters to feel like they aren't completely behind.
3. I believe in XP caps
There is a point of diminishing returns on XP as a narrative instrument.  I run bounded games, games with pre-defined beginning and ending points, which regardless of system, puts a cap on the total amount of XP that can be earned.  But not everybody does this.  I have participated in many games that had been running for years, with characters earning experience points the entire time.  In so many cases, I heard players talking about how they didn't know what to spend their experience on, so they were learning irrelevant skills or becoming experts on obscure lore.  This does more than just unbalance a game.  This cheapens the idea of character.  One of the reasons that characters have different skill sets is that it provides a method of focus sharing.  When a character has reached the point where they can solve all problems on their own without help from other characters, then the game becomes not a group participatory exercise, but an exercise in narrative masturbation.  XP caps limit that.  By having a maximum amount of XP, a character can only specialize in so many things and situations that require multiple degrees of expertise thus require multiple characters.  

One Solution
So, for the Changeling the Lost game that I am about to wrap up, I used an experimental system of character advancement.  Rather than have an experience point system that depended on attendance at game, all characters were given a total number of advancements(24) based on the total number of games(24).  These advancements could be used to advance any aspect of the character, so long as there was narrative justification.  
Players could spend them at any point in between games, starting at the beginning of the game with all of them spent or starting late in the game with none of them spent.  This put an overall cap on potential power and allowed for a variety of starting points.  It simplified calculation and character sheet tracking and removed arguments about power differential based on XP.  
Was it perfect?  No.  There is still a power differential based on system knowledge.  There were people who engaged with the system much more than others.  There was some confusion over the timing of things and honestly, when I could no longer print character sheets out for free, we went to a much more system light approach.  But I think it's better than the alternative, maintaining the good parts of XP while avoiding many of the pitfalls that I've seen.


Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Thorny Questions: Handling PC Death in LARP

Thorny Questions is the series that addresses aspects of game that are complicated and don't present easy answers.  This one is about the complicated question of Player Character Death in LARP, focusing especially on the worrisome issue of PC on PC violence.

I have seen players driven from games based on mishandled PC deaths.  I have also seen games fall apart because unkillable PCs dominated the game and could not be removed.  I have seen games that did not allow PCs to die at game.  I have seen games where the senseless killing of PCs was treated like hunting for sport.  I have seen PC deaths that have reverberated through narratives.  I have seen PC deaths that were instantly forgotten.  I have seen PC deaths that ruin games for third parties.  I have seen PC deaths that have transformed people's characters for the better.  All of this death has given me some strong feelings on the subject of the killing of PCs, but not necessarily clear ones.

1. Consent is Sexy

So, my first big thought on the issue is that basically, PC death should be consensual.  This isn't to say the the character should agree, few characters are invested in their own death, but that the player should be given a chance to consent, especially when another PC is holding the knife(directly or indirectly).  Part of this is having a read of the game and requiring notice.  Essentially saying, no PC can kill another PC without prior permission and discussion.  The player(s) who want to do the killing talk to the Storyteller and the Storyteller can then consider.

There are a number of potential avenues at this point, as well.  Sometimes, a target is not necessarily specific[we need a human sacrifice to appease the volcano!] and the Storyteller might know about another player who has expressed an interest in switching characters.  Then consent can be immediate.  Sometimes, there might be weird assumptions [we must kill the rabbit!  he has all our cereal!] and the Storyteller might be able to encourage further investigation and prevent a ridiculous and painful misunderstanding.  But at that point, the Storyteller can speak with the potential victim about the death of their character.

This should be true for similar consequences that aren't technically death, but have the same effective result[staking vampires and hiding their bodies away comes to mind].  If the player is not on board, then the killing does not go down.  Now, I generally think that there is a long time window that should be observed.  If a player is considering such an act, then they should give at least a days notice ahead of time, so that narrative space can be cleared and Storyteller time can be devoted to this potential event.  Now, Crimes of Passion become a different story.  A situation that fairly escalates to mutual attempted murder is one that can potentially be negotiated in a shorter time frame, but even then, consent is key.

2. Sic Semper Tyrannis

However, there is a flip side to this consent based approach.  Yes, a player should not have their player killed without their consent, but on the flipside, this is theoretically open to abuse.  Ultimately, there is an important narrative balance to be struck and immunity to death should not be immunity to consequences.

To spin out a nightmare scenario of this sort, the prince of the city is a tyrant and rules with an iron fist.  But nobody can take him down, the political structure doesn't allow for democracy, only violent overthrow, and even pooling all their money to hire the best assassin in the universe doesn't work because the player of the Prince refuses to consent to their character being killed.  This leaves other players frustrated with the game and feeling like they lack agency.

A situation like that is extreme, but highlights that there are times when there is a narrative need to kill.  Not all situations where a character would kill another represents a narrative failure.  They can instead be narrative climaxes, the point where an extreme event is required for an extreme situation.

To that end, nobody should have perfect plot armor, in that nobody should be able to abuse a system to escape narrative consequences within game.  This is a difficult situation, but one that is important to understand, because without narrative consequences, extreme power imbalances can develop between players and those extreme power imbalances can lead to disinvestment in the game.  To that end, it's important to sometimes let people know that while their character's story isn't done, a chapter is and then try and work together on making the next chapter one that the player is interested in.

But nobody gets plot armor that protects them from ruining other people's fun.

3. You Get What Anybody Gets.  You Get A Lifetime.

So, how does one approach this in practice?  As a player, as an ST, etc.  Well, there's no universal approach, but there are a few potential tips.  Your mileage may vary on these, but they are the best I got.

As a player, try to have a sense of your character's narrative role and place in their personal journey. Is dying now being cut down in their prime? Is it falling right before they achieve their goal?  What would their last thought be?  Try and be a meaningful presence in other character's lives and be the Eddard Stark you want to see in the world.

On the flip side, as an ST, try and reward the player who dies gracefully.  Recognize that they are making a personal sacrifice for the good of the story and also recognize that this is the kind of player that you want in game.  Overall, you should make sure that losing a character does not deny them participation in the greater narrative of the game and try and find a way of incorporating a new character that gives them a good way in. Also, if appropriate, consider a funeral scene.  Fictional closure works the same as real closure.

Also, an important aspect of this is to make sure there's not significant splashover.  I once spent an entire game trying to protect a character from assassination.  At the end, I learned that the player had decided not to play the character any more and that no matter what I did, the character was going to be killed, even if the STs had to bend reality in order to make it happen.  The whole experience left me deeply disinvested in the game, because it felt like my efforts meant nothing and I'd wasted my time all game long.  If I'd known ahead of time, I would have played the entire night differently and gotten a satisfactory experience out of it.  Sometimes, things affect more than one person.

Overall, this is about transparency and forethought.  Having a plan for dealing with eventualities is an important part of running games.

Monday, March 9, 2015

And They Have a Plan: Creating Memorable Antagonists

Antagonists are a useful part of many types of storytelling.  While not every type of game requires antagonists, many games do and in my experience, nothing is quite so great as having a memorable antagonist.  But making an antagonist memorable is a very complicated process.  Antagonists are balancing acts, trying to have them be interesting enough to justify the story while not so dominant as to overshadow the actions of the protagonists of the story. I have a number of tips to creating interesting antagonists.

1. Plans
Antagonists need momentum the way that all characters need momentum.  And part of this comes with having plans.  Any antagonist should have an agenda, something that they are trying to get done.  And in some way, that agenda needs to run counter to the interests of the protagonists.  But agendas are more than just a general list of wants, memorable antagonists have ideas about how to achieve things, they have methods of gathering information, they have patterns of action.

One thing that I find makes for better antagonists is to make sure those plans do not include omniscience or immutability.  Memorable antagonists make plans based on information available to them, and that can mean they are unprepared.  This can be addressed by adding complicated redundancies to antagonists plans.  And plans need to be mutable, a plan shouldn't hinge on a single event occurring in a specific fashion, because if the protagonists attempt to change that event, then as a Storyteller you have to either completely rethink things or tell them they can't and either way can be highly problematic.

So what I suggest is this, don't think of antagonist plots as a series of specific actions so much as a series of sequential goals, and have them move on their own, adapting based on an idea of how the antagonist reacts to setbacks and opportunities.  Everyone has a way of reacting to changes in their plans, there's no reason the antagonist shouldn't have the same.

This brings me to the most important part of any antagonist's planning.  The escape plan.  It's no good trying to craft a memorable recurring villain if they have no way of outrunning the protagonists.  Escape plans should be in effect from the moment an antagonist enters the room, whether it's the use of proxy communication, the possession of a contingent teleportation effect or a bargaining chip of information that dies with them.  Memorable antagonists shouldn't resolve easily.

2. From Justification to Culture
One of the aspects of having a plan is having a justification.  Memorable antagonists are those who do what they do for a reason.  This reason can be flimsy or incorrect, but they need to have some justification for actions that they take.  One of the key reasons for this is that their justification should affect other aspects of the antagonist. On a personal level, it should affect their decision making.  Someone who is attempting to overthrow a kingdom out of lust for power will make different choices than someone who is attempting to overthrow a kingdom out of misguided patriotism, the former would have no qualms allying with the kingdom's traditional enemies, while the latter would never do so.

This justification also goes beyond just the central antagonist of the story as well.  Justification defines the culture of an antagonistic organization.  It defines who an antagonist is able to recruit and what participation in such an organization means.  Is an antagonistic organization a band of cut-throats, who will turn on each other for the narrowest advantage?  Are they a knightly order, with their own strictly defined rules of conduct?  Are they organized in loose cells, so they don't even know anyone outside their own small circle?  Importantly, do they even know the antagonist's endgame?  Justifications can help define the ways in which an organizational culture develops.

3. Minions and Pacing
This brings me to the concept of minions.  Memorable antagonists rarely work alone, and the idea of having an organization is very useful for conceptualization, but having minions is more than just creating a context, minions allow for more interesting antagonist plans.  First, complex plans require multiple participants and the more participants(up to a point), the more complex a plan can be.  An antagonistic plan as big as overthrowing a country or stealing the most important Macguffin in the world can't be done without people in multiple roles.

Second, minions can provide a very good way of pacing the defeat of an antagonist.  Minions are effectively character based story structure, as their defeat can represent milestones in the defeat of an antagonist's plot without forcing multiple direct confrontations.  At the same time, they offer the potential for the hand of the antagonist to reach further than direct presence allows without making everyone a teleporter.

4. Setbacks and Choices
And when the hand of the antagonist reaches out, it should in some way motivate action.  What really defines an antagonist is that their actions affect the lives of the protagonists in a negative way.  This can be the creation or maintaining of a lack, the commission or sustaining of a villainy, or simply pursuing plans that oppose those of the protagonists.  And a big part of this is maintaining that sense of loss or potential loss at the heart of the antagonist's plan.

And part of this is making every victory a little bit pyrrhic.  In a game especially, where the action should be defined by the choices of the protagonists, antagonists exist to force the protagonists to make choices.  Some of the most memorable choices that protagonists make in games are when they are forced into difficult situations by the actions of an antagonist.  On the flipside, nothing makes for a more frustrating antagonist than being put in situations where there are no choices to make, no ways to change the outcome of situations.  At that point, an antagonist just becomes a bully holding down the protagonists and asking them why they're hitting themselves.

5. Resonance
Of course, this gets further into what the point of an antagonist is, in some ways.  A memorable antagonist should resonate in some way with the protagonists.  What do I mean by that?  There should be some recognizable connection between them, some way of highlighting some aspect of the antagonist and protagonists.  This can be a personal connection over villainy(Thulsa Doom burned down my village and all I got was this weird Austrian accent), a shared past that now divides(Cosmo and Bishop in Sneakers), a contrasting theme(an all powerful, all moral Superman juxtaposed against an all too mortal, all too immoral Lex Luthor).  In some way, the antagonist should highlight characteristics of the protagonist(s).

Of course, a lot of this is dependent on genre.  When designing antagonists, what works in one genre as a contrast doesn't necessarily work in others.  Don't be afraid to embrace Genre.  It can be your best friend.  And while I'm on genre, have you thought about a good antagonist monologue?  They can be excellent tools.

6. Presence vs. Absence and Resolution
Of course, as we get to this, there are a few important things to note about the role of antagonists in stories.  Mainly, the story is not about the antagonist.  And that should be clear within the story structure.  One of the key ways this falls apart is that antagonists are best represented by infrequent presence.  An antagonist who shows up too often gets real old, real quick.  And ultimately, the antagonist should not overshadow the protagonists in the story.  This can be a major problem in a game with multiple competing antagonists.

This can be solved with having an antagonist who uses minions well and only communicates through mysterious letters.  Or an antagonist who is not seen until the final act.  But ultimately, an antagonist exists to be on screen at the climax of things and to be defeated.  And this leads me to my final point.  An antagonist is there to be confronted/defeated/redeemed, etc.  The whole point of a story with an antagonist is that it should in some way come to a head. Memorable antagonists don't just fade away.

Final Thoughts
A few last thoughts.  You can't always plan a memorable antagonist.  Sometimes some event will resonate in a way that cements a character in the minds of the players.  In these cases, it's best to see if you can just go with it.
One example that springs to mind comes from a fantasy game run by a friend.  In one encounter, our druid[more or less] tried to exercise mental control over a mouse that was being used to surreptitiously deliver a message.  Despite having an epic sized dice pool, the druid dramatically failed.  Thus was born the legend of Messenger Mouse, the true villain of the tale and one who would keep appearing.  The storyteller didn't quite rewrite things so Messenger Mouse was the true antagonist, but they became a presence in the story.  My memory of the adventure is a bit incomplete, but Messenger Mouse will survive in the legends of the game.