Tales from the Rocket House
Okay, maybe I'm overdoing the purple prose and the Vincent Price voice, but here goes.
And So It Begins...
A post (on the LJ Community “Roleplayers”) asking advice about setting up a modern horror/urban fantasy MU* opened my eyes to an entirely different sort of roleplaying experience, one in which GM's (or Mods, as they're often called) are seldom seen, and may not even be online when there's a conflict to resolve, a world in which you have so many players that you game with whoever shows up, and no one's indispensable, in which the players may not like each other at all, and the conflict is virtually all PC vs. PC.
Now, I've LARPed before (I was in college during the 90's. What gamer of that age didn't enjoy a little paper-rock-scissors after dark?), but it never really grabbed me like old school pen and paper did (or the purely conversational, but still GM-led systemless games I ran for a few close friends during that time), and it didn't influence my understanding of gaming. I always saw the LARP systems as a clumsy attempt at making up for not having dice and such. I didn't really think of the possibilities such a setup held.
But the post started my mental wheels turning. What if someone (meaning me) designed a game that took advantage of GM absence by dispensing with the GM entirely and dispersing some of the previous power of the GM among the players?
Now, there have been several games designed to be GM-less. Capes, Universalis, and others come to mind. However, as far as I can tell, all of them were meant to be played by a small group of friends (ie, a normal gaming group), not a large, shifting group of people who may be friends or outright enemies.
Philosophy and Hopes for the System
While this started, as most of my ideas do, as a rather formless burst of creative energy, it quickly coalesced (thanks in large part to our Friendly Rockethouse Vulture, Nathan) into something much bigger. I'm not trying to throw the GM out with the bathwater, but to make us all partly GM's as well as players.
Nathan summed it up best by saying that instead of the players playing within the GM's world, each player is creating his or her own world (or vision of the shared world, if you will). When the worlds collide, you have mechanics to decide which players get their way and which don't.
In the actual playtest, we all had a lot of fun running our player characters and our non-player characters. As Raine said, it was fun just getting to decide what our NPCs did and said. We were all GM's and all players, all at once.
Even though we had some scheduling conflicts and the playtest ended up only being a three-person affair, it was a blast, and it gave me some much-needed feedback as to what to fix and what to keep.
Raine played Shaman, a normal human and resident of a working class neighborhood that was also home to Nathan's character, Shepherd. Shepherd, the were-sheepdog, was born in dog form and first transformed at doggie puberty, about 1 year old, appearing to be a 12 year old boy. Needless to say, his education wasn't up to Harvard standards, but he took his role as neighborhood protector seriously, from chasing out criminals to making sure a certain little old lady woke up in time to put her trash on the curb on Thursday mornings. They pretty much shared their world, and their vision of it, and there was precious little chance of any conflict between them.
So of course, I played a rich, arrogant, Machiavellian vampire who wanted to tear everything down in the name of big profits and urban renewal (I stopped just short of twisting my waxed mustache and holding up a sign that said “Boo! Hiss!”). Alessio was originally meant to be more complex, the kind of person who lives to win, and who's involved in business and politics simply because “that's how people keep score today, my dear.” He's the kind of person who could be talked into working with the good guys if he could be convinced that he'd get a good challenge out of fighting the bad guys. But with only three of us, there weren't gonna be any bad guys unless I was the bad guy.
We started with a very low-tension Social test between Shaman and Alessio (which one of Alessio's contacts, a city councilman, actually initiated...but since he was my NPC, it was my “world,” vs. Shaman's, and my Conflict to win or lose). Alessio, true to form, won handily, but stopped short of doing anything to Shaman. Basically, I just won the argument. Honestly, I was just feeling out both the system and the very idea of this type of play, and I didn't think strategically enough. It would have put Alessio in much better standing for the rest of the game if Shaman would have spent the rest of the session in jail. Oh, well. It's better this way, anyway – Alessio was the bad guy, and bad guys shouldn't win.
Then, when I realized just how boring the game was gonna be if we all sat around waiting for the GM to hand us our conflict, I edited Alessio a little bit. What the heck: he's already a Machiavellian vampire, why not make him a murderer, too. Having already introduced the idea of an urban renewal project that stood to make Alessio even richer than he already was, I proceeded to declare that a crime wave hit the neighborhood.
This led to a Physical Test between Shepherd and the crime wave. That was a pushover, because none of the players contributed Traits to oppose Shepherd, so he had to be 1d6 with 6d6. You do the math. He had the petty thugs running like scared rabbits. However, the one thing he couldn't stop was the serial killer who brought prostitutes from the red light district to their neighborhood, murdered them, and left their bloodless bodies for the cops to find.
Yeah, that serial killer was Alessio. Not in my original idea for the character, but who cares, right? It was fun. So the next setup was Shepherd + Shaman vs. Alessio in a Stealth test to track me down. Now, my Stealth trait was pretty good, but not enough to handle the 2 on 1, and they found me.
Then it was a full on fight to the finish. Again, the two on one did a number on me, and I just barely managed to get the 1 success necessary to prevent them from killing me. Shepherd, Shaman, and their friends from the neighborhood took out my body guards, broke my silver-tipped hardwood cane/stake, and bit through my spine, leaving me temporarily paralyzed and completely defeated.
The game was a blast, and I learned a lot. One thing I realized was that a game like this, if you've got enough players that will actually go against each other, can generate instant pick-up games. Take a few minutes to create a character (or keep a few pre-made characters on index cards and select one), and go. You don't have to show the other players your character, just scrupulously follow the character creation rules, and you're good to go. There's no GM, so there's no GM preparation. Everybody take part in the process, and the freedom leads to some really neat experiences.
Actually Designing the Game
What I needed to do was – first and foremost – eliminate the need for GM judgment calls. This meant I needed simple mechanics thoroughly explained, so there could be no rules arguments, and broad categories of actions that really summed up everything a PC could do.
I also needed conflict resolution rather than task resolution. Questions of how tasks interact (Who went first? How did my hitting Fred affect Fred's attempt to hit Betty?) generally require GM judgment calls. Conflict resolution simply places one PC's Trait against another PC's Trait, determines what's at stake in the conflict, and then allows the victorious character's player to narrate the results after they're rolled.
If the rules for resolving the conflict are clear and simple enough, there should be no need for judgment calls, and thus no need for a GM. That's Design Goal One.
The system also needed to be flexible enough to handle the kind of things that might go on in a game. Now, in this type of game, the system itself isn't really the source of the interest, but rather a way to resolve conflicts and actually settle things. So while the system didn't need a lot of tactical options, it did need the breadth to handle smear tactics, theft, computer hacking, vampire/werewolf/fae powers, combat, car chases, and so on. That was Design Goal Two.
Design Goal Three concerns secrecy. Players shouldn't have to show their Traits any time they get into a test – at least not all of the Traits. I wanted a way for character to keep their superhuman abilities secret, and even to keep some of their human abilities secret, simply by not using them. For example, a werewolf wouldn't have to use her shapeshifting in a fight, and thus wouldn't give herself away as a lycanthrope. But a person with a concealed pistol might also want to keep it hidden, and a former special forces operative might want to keep the extent of his training under wraps, too. In an environment in which the players aren't all friends, and some are inexperienced gamers and/or emotionally immature people, you cannot possibly hope to rely on “their characters don't know that, so the players won't act on it” firewalling.
Design Goal Four came about as a result of our first playtest. The first mechanic I created had the severity of the conflict's outcome being determined by the winner's level of success alone. This worked well for no holds barred combat (physical, social, or what have you), but just didn't seem right for a lot of situations. So I needed a way to start the stakes low and raise them, as well as a way to set stakes that didn't directly involve hurting the other character.
The Story So Far
I decided that characters would have Traits like “Strong,” “Sneaky,” or “Animal Form” divided among five categories (which I'll call Attributes): Physical, Social, Stealth, Intellectual, and Mechanical. After the first playtest, I added Technological, a sixth category, and further refined the others.
Physical (includes combat, athleticism, etc.)
Social (includes hypnotism and other such powers, also includes acting, lying, etc.)
Intellectual (includes what you know, doing research, etc.)
Stealth (includes noticing things, sneaking and hiding, palming objects, etc.)
Mechanical (setting and disarming traps, picking locks, fixing a car, driving, piloting, etc.)
Technological (computer hacking, high-tech security systems, engineering, etc.)
Characters had Traits within the Attributes. While the names of the Traits helped define the characters and guide the narration, only the number of Traits had an actual game effect (aside from some superhuman abilities). So a character with “Master Tactician,” “Veteran Soldier,” and “Loyal Bodyguards” as Physical Traits would be mechanically identical to a character whose Physical Traits were “Tactician,” “Soldier,” and “Strong as an Ox.” Master Tactician and Tactician were only semantically different, and the Bodyguards acted just the same as any other Physical Trait.
Equipment is simply a Trait like any other that goes under an Attribute, again like any other Trait, with two exceptions: it can be lent/traded/sold to another character and it can be stolen/undermined/hacked. Equipment falls under three categories: Things that can be Stolen by a Stealth test, Connections that can be Undermined with a Social test, and Data that can be Hacked by a Technological test. By this definition, modern wealth (which is mostly information-based) is “Data” rather than “Stuff,” as are cyberpunk bionics. A position such as “Deputy District Attorney” is a Connection, as is “Darling of High Society” or “Knows All the Right People.” Stuff is the obvious category – guns, cars, supercomputers, and so on fall into this category.
Resolving a Conflict
When a character initiates a conflict with another character, that character's player decides what kind of conflict it is, and what Category's Traits will apply to it. The character that initiates the conflict is called the “Acting” character, and that player chooses the type of conflict.
The Acting character's player should narrate the conflict setup so that it makes sense with the chosen Category. “I punch him” is a good fit for a Physical conflict, but not for a Social conflict. “I spread vicious rumors about him” is a good fit for Social, but not Stealth, and so on.
The character who's being challenged is the “Resisting” character. This character can only respond with Traits within the Category the “Acting” character chose.
Setting the Stakes
There are four “Levels” of Stakes: Embarrassment, Injury, Crippling, Death Embarrassment basically represents posturing, sparring, or a friendly competition
Injury represented a serious conflict, but with some punches held - no lethal weapons, no blackmail or legal actions in a Social Conflict, etc. Traits lost return at a rate of 1 per session (or in-game day if using a MU* that's sort of always online).
Crippling - this is full-blast fighting, no holds barred, but with quarter given - you might shoot the guy during the fight, but not after he's already down. You might call in the lawsuits, but not after he's already bankrupt. Traits lost return at a rate of 1 per 2 Sessions (or in-game week if using a MU* that's sort of always online)
Death - no quarter asked, and probably none given. Traits lost return at a rate of 1 per 3 Sessions, if the winner bothers to let you live (or in-game month if using a MU* that's sort of always online).
Conflict Resolution Order
The Acting (initiating) player declares the Category of the Conflict and whether it starts at "Embarrassing" or "Injury." The Acting player must also bid at least one Trait. Bidding a Trait means announcing the name of the Trait and “risking” it – if you lose, you'll lose the use of that Trait temporarily, to represent the injury or fallout from the Contest.
All players involved in the Conflict have a chance to bid at one or more Traits and to Raise the Stakes.
The Conflict Test isn't rolled until everyone has finished (that is, doesn't want to do any more) Bidding Traits and Raising the Stakes.
Once the dice are rolled, if neither side yet has 3 successful “won” Rounds, a new round begins, and all players, starting with the Acting player, have the opportunity to Raise the Stakes and Bid more Traits. In practice, unless somebody “Folds,” all Conflicts will last 3, 4, or 5 Rounds.
Folding:
When a player raises the stakes, any players who aren't willing to risk those higher stakes can "Fold," suffering a loss at the current Stakes level. Anything above "Embarrassing" causes the temporary loss of all Traits and Equipment bid so far in the Conflict (with a minimum of 1 Trait "lost," even if the Folding player hasn't bid anything yet).
If the results of a Conflict lead to another Conflict, the results of the first Conflict still stand, regardless of the outcome of the first Conflict.
Resolving the Conflict
Once both players are finished adding Traits into the conflict, each player rolls 1d6 plus 1d6 per Trait “Bid.” The highest total wins that Round, and the next Round begins.
All Traits used in the previous rounds must be used in the current round. In other words, you may not back down or de-escalate the conflict, but you can escalate it. At the beginning of the new Round, both players get the chance to add more Traits, and Raise the Stakes, just as before. A character can Fold any time the stakes are raised.
The winner gets to narrate the results, up to the Maximum Stakes. The severity of the loss is limited by the Stakes the characters were fighting over and the level of success the victor gained.
Since the first person to win 3 Rounds wins the Conflict, the level of success must be based on how many successful rounds the loser had:
Loser got 2 Successes: Maximum Stakes: “Injury” Loser got 1 Success: Maximum Stakes: “Crippling” Loser got No Successes: Maximum Stakes: “Death”
Final Thoughts
The conflict resolution above works well for fights, both Physical and Social, but isn't as solid for the kind of very basic conflicts that come up between players' visions of the shared world. I'm still working on resolving that issue, but I'm sure I'll have it done and (hopefully) playtested again in time for our next episode of . . .
Tales from the Rocket House (cue Vincent Price laughter here).
