Introducing: The Metagame

I've been gaming on Google Wave, recently, and having a fairly good time. I have also thought about gaming as a social activity more than an escapist exercise; Google Wave is good for telling a story but not so good for having fun with your buddies.

But is there a way to turn that to your advantage? I can conceive of a world where face-to-face communication within the party is impossible, intimidating, or (better yet) dangerous. Games like Hunter: The Reckoning spring to mind, where party members might be unwilling or unable to connect to each other due to physical, moral, and emotional difficulties.

But I have an even better idea: The Metagame.

RPG historians seem to agree that Eight Kingdoms was penned sometime in the late 70s. Some are of the opinion that with better business sense, it might have quickly replaced Dungeons and Dragons, but nobody actually knows who the author was - when copies show up, their covers are missing and any mention of an author is illegible or just gone. No existing publisher claims the book, no author has stepped forward, and only an uninteresting series of legal loopholes prevent the work from simply entering the public domain. Eight Kingdoms has become a legend in the tabletop RPG community in the way of all urban legends - nobody's played, but everyone claims an uncle who went to DragonCon in 1989 and played EK in a hotel room after a bar crawl with a vendor whose name he can't remember.

Eight Kingdoms does exist. Unfortunately, Eight Kingdoms is much more than a game. Eight Kingdoms wasn't even written by anyone in this world. Eight Kingdoms is the bridge linking our real world to the world of Eight Kingdoms. Characters in Metagame are PCs who have played EK. Maybe it was a copy they picked up at a garage sale when they were twelve, or maybe they had an older brother who came home one weekend, ran a game, and then then lost interest.

The problem is, the fantasy world of Eight Kingdoms started to spill into our reality 30 years ago, and vice versa. Our world can't contain concepts like goblins and witchcraft any more than the world of the Kingdoms can contain firearms or democracy. The two worlds will tear each other apart if nobody does anything about it.

PCs will create the character of a gamer who is part of a gaming group that communicates (at least a little) via Google Wave. They will also determine who their Eight Kingdoms character is. Characters in Metagame can channel abilities from their Eight Kingdoms character to help them fight the darkness spilling into the real world. An IT technician playing a Spellweaver can use magic to his advantage, while a college student playing a Troubadour may find he can make himself irresistible to those of his gender preference.

That's the basic idea - it's pretty much World of Darkness but built around a gaming framework. It'll be more "white collar" than WOD, but who knows, it might send gamers to a darker place.

Roleplaying Games and Story Structure: Putting It Together

And now, putting some of this together.

We've looked over some of the vocabulary and structure of a good story. Now, how to put it all together. I'm going to discuss character focused campaigns.

Let's pretend I'm running a DnD 4e game for two and maybe three of my friends. They're all casual gamers. Two of them have characters: an elephant-man Paladin and a human Necromancer.

Sidestepping the rules discussion about how to implement those two characters, let's instead examine how I might shape a story that involves them.

Theron's Big Fancy Guidelines, Number One: A good story comes from the characters. See also Firefly.

So we've got an obvious issue to hammer out: Why are the paladin and the necromancer hanging out, besides the obvious need for a guardian and striker?

The obvious answer I came up with is that the characters have known each other for a long time. I find I'm often able to forgive the moral shortcomings or self-righteousness of my friends, so while I can't decide that the characters grew up together, they must have been part of a community. The easiest way to do that is isolate the campaign starting area.

I've been thinking about Fallout a lot lately, so I steal a cue from it: I decide the campaign starts in an underground civilization, sealed off from a terrible catastrophe 500 years ago.

Theron's Big Fancy Guidelines, Number Two: A little backstory goes a long way. Too much backstory gets in the way. See also Star Wars Ep. 4-6 and compare to Ep. 1-3.

I decided that over the last 500 years, necromancy became a big part of life underground. When resources are at a premium, it's good to have an unskilled labor base you don't need to feed. This helps explain the character I had trouble with, and gave me an interesting little idea for creating tension once the characters reached the surface world (get to that later).

Now I have characters and a very basic setting idea. Then what?

Theron's Big Fancy Guidelines, Number Three: You must be able to answer this question: "What will characters in this world do?" See also Hunter: The Reckoning.

I started to envision their first dungeon crawl. Internal conflict didn't seem right, as I figured the community had to be reasonably stable for paladins and necromancers to exist side by side, working together for the betterment of all. Sending them deeper into the caves didn't do it for me either, nor did the idea that a bunch of goblins and other level 1 monsters somehow breach this fortress that survived untold forces.

My first solution was to involve a "proving grounds" within the community itself. I liked the idea that the community leaders would have cobbled together a dungeon in order to test the mettle of potential adventurers.

That led me to another idea: Maybe the elders didn't create the Proving Grounds (it's time to start capitalizing that for emphasis, I decide). Maybe whoever built the underground fortress did. I also happened upon an idea that the identity of the architects of this civilization has been lost. I decide to call them "The Architects" and file that away for later.

Theron's Big Fancy Guidelines, Number Four: It's never too late to add in a mysteriously named power group. See also The Flood.

So the Architects built a special training ground, and it will only open when whatever sensors exist determine that the outside world is safe to be explored. The Proving Grounds helps guard the exit with constructs, undead, and clever traps from one direction; from the other direction, it's a nice warmup dungeon.

Theron's Big Fancy Guidelines, Number Five: What is the purpose of a dungeon? See also Tomb of Terrors for an example gone horribly, horribly wrong.

Then I need an inciting incident.

TBFG, Number Six: Why these guys? Your heroes must be the only ones capable of overcoming the obstacles.

I decide to thrust the PCs into the harsh, cruel Overworld and lay the seeds for a plot by deciding the Proving Grounds have been somehow compromised. Since I'm toying with the idea that it's a postapocalyptic world, I added something akin to radiation to it. I called it "the Glow," which isn't too imaginative but I do not think my players will care. The Glow is dangerous, though nobody knows this yet, as the Underworlders don't know it exists. I decide the Glow also prevents zombies from being controlled, and may have an effect of driving golems mad. Probably it will become a roadblock to the PCs more than anything else, or at least a neat way to incorporate some magical traps, puzzles, and creatures (like a gibbering mouther).

But that hasn't answered the question yet: Why these guys? I decide to highlight the danger of the Glow by giving the players a couple allies. Maybe a zombie or two, a handful of assistants also trained for this kind of thing. However, the zombies go nuts when they're exposed to the Glow, and the assistants will serve as red shirts, dying in increasingly gory ways.

So, we've gotten our heroes into the world, warmed them up to the system, overcome some obstacles both surprising and otherwise, and killed off the nonessential characters. Now what?

CITIZENS: Bigby's Crushing Thirst Destroyer

http://www.myjones.com/limited/wizards

That will be all.

Self Savaging

Me, the Savage Worlds Character

I may have exaggerated some of my skillset and underplayed other parts of it (for instance, my Notice die should be a lot lower and my Repair skill should be higher). I'm going for a playable Novice character, not an accurate representation of my abilities.

Agility d8, Smarts d6, Spirit d6, Strength d6, Vigor d6
Climbing d6, Driving d6, Fighting d6, Notice d4, Persuasion d6, Repair d6, Shooting d6, Stealth d6
Pace 6, Parry 5, Toughness 5, Charisma -1
Hindrances: Curious, Loyal, Habit (anxiety)
Edges: Ambidextrous, Command
Gear (which I would carry if I were a professional adventurer): Multitool, flashlight, steel toed boots, laptop computer, toolkit, Bowie knife, Sig Saeur 9mm pistol

Happy birthday, Howard Phillips Lovecraft!

Today is the 119th birthday of Howard Philips Lovecraft, one of the most influential writers of the last century (depending, of course, on who you ask).

Lovecraft's work inspired artists like Stephen King, Neil Gaiman, John Carpenter, and HR Geiger. In the Land of Nerds, where I frolic, his writings are considered one of the foundations of our shared cultural context, much like quotes from Star Wars or Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

Now, his writing itself isn't what we remember: It's the mythology he created, where immense alien intelligences strive to accomplish unknowable goals in a cold, uncaring universe where the only beings who matter are gods whose very form would force mortals into stark madness. Lovecraft wanted to craft a universe that would frighten even atheists like himself, and this concept - there were things Man Was Not Meant To Know - has stood the test of time.

Some of his writing may be found here, with my favorite story (Herbert West: Reanimator) located here.

Part 3, additional

Talking to a playwright friend of mine, she put forth the following:

"A plot twist takes the story in a new direction, while a reveal answers a question."

Applying this to RPGs: Plot twists make good act breaks and raise the stakes. Plot twists can go at the end of sessions. However, since they change the direction the drama moves in, they really don't fit into 4-6 hour sessions.

Additionally, a reveal can be a plot twist - new information can raise new questions.

Complicating things further, a plot twist can not be a reveal. Taking the story away from the original conflicts can't, in itself, answer questions.

Roleplaying Games and Story Structure, Part 3

Back from Colorado, I am now ready to continue this discussion.

I had a thought while I was out in the mountains, that it would be a good idea to use an entry to introduce everyone to some of the vocabulary I'll be using in this series.

As previously mentioned, I have a theater and literature background. A huge portion of my experience in those fields informs my hobby, so many of the terms I use will be taken from that as well. The following list are words I may employ to help you understand what I'm talking about, already digested for use in roleplaying games.

Drama: I use this in the sense of "good drama," as in "a struggle between two or more sides with irreconcilable goals that must be resolved."

Example: A group of kobolds steals a lucky charm that has been in the family for generations; the man wants it back and the kobolds want to keep it for the luck it brings them. This simple fetch quest is dramatic.

Conflict: What do the two sides wish to accomplish? Oddly enough, it's often a good idea to leave the PCs out of the initial conflict. Most games serve the PCs as forces reacting to the conflict, rather than serving as a catalyst. Think about it - in Raiders of the Lost Ark, Indy is simply trying to find an old colleague and the stakes keep rising. Indy is a small part of the greater conflict, but is key to the resolution.

In our example above, the kobolds want to hang onto the artifact that the quest-giver wants returned. Though the PCs may have a personal stake of some kind in the conflict - a sister to the man in question, or a debt-riddled rogue out to make some coin - the conflict is not theirs.

Goal: How will the drama be resolved? Both sides of the conflict need a defined and easily-grasped goal.

Now, let's talk down the road here: I always vote for keeping things very, very simple. Just get the game to the table with its easy to understand goals; we all know the players will provide plenty of complexity, conspiracy theories, and hypotheses that will both slow the game down and provide you with interesting ideas for the future.

It's also very important that PCs be the only people who can resolve the drama! If a visiting sheriff or paladin can go squash the bad guys on his own, then why are the PCs doing it?

The goals of our example quest are very simple: The PCs will resolve the drama by obtaining the lucky charm. The man can't do it by himself, and he can't approach the town watch with this problem because the kobolds lair is outside the zone they are willing to patrol.

Stakes: What is at risk? You may have heard the term "raising the stakes" before; over the course of a good story, what is at risk often becomes more personal and more important. Again using Raiders of the Lost Ark as an example, the Nazis fake the death of Marion Ravenwood, which creates a desire for vengeance within Indy - he realizes the Nazis will stop at nothing to obtain the Ark, so he decides he must do the same. Raising the stakes happens over time; if you recall most CRPGs, a simple task undertaken at the beginning of the game has more sinister underpinnings and is often the opening salvo of a larger conspiracy.

In our kobold story, perhaps the PCs discover that stealing the artifact has caused monsters in the area to respect the kobold tribe, who are now beginning to unite the ogres and goblins in the vicinity to march against the town.

Challenge: If you read an acting textbook (which may not be a bad idea, and I can recommend several), the writer would talk about "obstacles." For an actor, an obstacle is anything that stands in the way of the character accomplishing her goals.

For RPGs, the appropriate term is a "challenge," but the idea is the same. A challenge requires the PCs (and sometimes the players themselves) to employ their various skills and talents to receive a reward. Rewards are sometimes loot, sometimes experience, and sometimes moving the story forward.

Unlike acting, where you must follow a script and blocking, many challenges in RPGs are optional. Your character spies a gem set into a tall statue's eye; the challenge is how the character gets it into his pockets. Strictly speaking, this is not a challenge they have to accept, but it is soluble and will result in a reward.

In the kobold adventure, challenges may take the form of traps the kobolds have set, monsters they have intimidated to stand in the party's way, and of course the kobolds themselves. Optional challenges may be random encounters, treasure the kobolds have trapped, or alternate ways to reach the lair of the kobolds.

Protagonist: In strictest terms, the principal character of a story is the protagonist. In RPGs, there is no protagonist; the entire story is told from the point of view of the player characters - even though there may be more important people in the world of the game.

Antagonist: Whoever marshals the opposing forces to the protagonist is the antagonist. The antagonist exists to place challenges in the way of the progtagonist.

Scenes: A small unit of dramatic action in support of the main story is a scene. In RPGs, a scene invariably contains a challenge, and part of the reward is advancement of the story.

With the kobolds (again), sneaking past sentries and into the kobold lair is a scene, solving the puzzle of their mechanical locks is a scene, and defeating the chief's dire wolf guardians once he throws the PCs into an arena is a scene. Unlocking a treasure chest, luring patrols into an ambush, and defeating a random encounter in the woods are not scenes.

Reveal: The PCs have reached the end of the kobolds' lair and find not only a kobold chieftan but the younger brother of the man who gave them the quest!

A reveal is not simply a plot twist. Plot twists are the result of insufficient storytelling. Reveals are just what they say they are - something is revealed, which implies it was knowable beforehand. Players need a fighting chance at working out the reveals ahead of time so they can plan for it and congratulate themselves on their cleverness.

Reveals are very obvious in hidsight. A reveal for the example above might go like this: "Oh, the missing farmer from the quest last week, he's related to the blacksmith, we just never asked! And he was the one who robbed the rich widow, like we heard about from Sergeant Grimes! He bought off the kobolds, and now he's got what he thinks was his birthright - but it looks like they took him hostage in return! I was right, though, there was someone more intelligent behind this, and Kyle was correct when he said it wasn't the Thieve's Guild."

Act: Every time the PCs accomplish a major victory in support of their goal, we have reached an act break. At an act break, the stakes must rise. There does not necessarily have to be a reveal to close out an act, but it can help.

If the kobold chieftan captures the PCs, then that's a good act break; the tables have turned and they must now somehow escape his clutches.

Climax: When the story has gone as far as it can and can go no further without resolution, you have reached the climax. In RPGs, a climax is usually a gigantic, bare-knuckled, knock-down, drag-out fight.

In our example, the PCs must defeat the kobold chieftan to retrieve the lucky charm, the missing brother, and prevent him from unifying the threats to society in the area. They do not have to necessarily batter him into a pulp, but they may have to defeat his champions so he may get away, or convince the younger brother to retrieve the lucky charm.


Leave comments and questions below, of course. Next up: The campaign format...with special guests!