Friday, February 04, 2005
Theory and Practice
Raw theory should always be wedded at the hip to execution. I'm gonna discuss a little theory here, and then switch to exploring a little implementation with respect to one direction Heresy could go.
This is a followup to some of the game design content devolving currently on Vincent Baker's blog. Specifically, before diving into this post, you might want to go read this entry and the dialogue beneath it. I'm gonna jump from there in another direction, though.
I'm going to suggest here that adversity has an anatomy, and that that anatomy is something we should try to get a handle on as designers. By adversity, here, I mean the kind of difficulties which matter, regardless of which playstyle or GNS mode you may be talking about. The adversity may be there to make moral situations that count; it may be there to give you a chance to shine as a player; or it may be there to make the game world glow. Doesn't matter, I think... the adversity itself, as a tool to each of these ends, seems to look pretty much the same.
The easiest bit to identify seems to be the stakes. There has to be something fundamentally at issue, a reason to confront the adversity, a logical consequence of success or failure. You'd think this would be obvious to designers, but just keying in to this element is the difference between conflict resolution and task resolution... and that's a huge difference that even now is used in fewer designs that it deserves.
Adversity clearly involves uncertainty. Exactly what that uncertainty is about isn't a trivial thing; for instance, frequently the uncertainty should most appropriately not be "can he achieve the goal?" it should be "what will it cost him, and is it worth it?". Uncertainty is an interesting element in that it has to be sustained in order to build impact. This is where Dogs in the Vineyard is cool, and knocks some of my tentative thoughts on Heresy right out the window... because in Dogs the bulk of the handling time is given over to sustaining and perpetuating the uncertainty, and as a result you're interested in finding out what the next twist of the conflict will bring, at each instant.
I'm talking literally sustaining it in player terms, here, not in-character time. One of the subtle things about complex systems is that I think it's sometimes the job of the math to serve this function. Say it's a sniper's shot in Phoenix Command or something. The stakes get set quickly, the in-character acts pre-resolution get said almost as quickly. Then you stop and work through a moderately complicated series of modifiers and calculations. While you're doing it, the out-of-character tension is building. The same tension that, in Dogs, is being built by successive Raises and Sees, is being built here by players who understand the math dynamic, watching the modifiers rack up and revising and re-revising their estimates of how it'll come out. Is it as powerful? Heck, no, mostly not. Fewer people are contributing, the individual tension-building events have almost zero in-game Colour attached, it's fortune-at-the-end so the in-character acts are serving to inform the mechanic rather than the other way 'round, and it's task resolution so the conflict will be resolved only emergently. But is it tense? Sometimes, hell yeah.
So let's posit that good adversity depends on protracted uncertainty, to build tension. It's a little like sex that way, though I'll leave continuing that metaphor as an exercise for the reader. Best way to do this is almost certainly some form of multiple-contributor, back-and-forthing mechanism within which we gradually get a better feel for the odds as we approach completion, but can never rule out an upset.
The third and final thing I'd identify on a first pass at this, is that adversity requires a price. At least a potential price. This is, in my eyes, distinct from the stakes; this has to do with things that weren't at issue, necessarily, when we started. In Dogs, for instance, you can have Stakes: "The sorcerer wants you dead. If he wins, you're bleeding and gasping your last." Or you can have Fallout: "Not only did the sorcerer get the girl, but those five d10s of fallout you took from the shotgun to your kidneys is killing you fast." In general, in a conflict, the Stakes remain the Stakes; they're not likely to change, much or often, despite changed circumstances and increased tension. But the Price you might have to pay... that's right at the heart of escalating tension.
You can mix and match those three elements in whatever brew you like, but if they're all good and substantial, then odds are your adversity will be present and will do its job. (Making sure it does so smoothly, encouraging cooperation on the outcome, etc., are all about how you mixed 'em up together.)
So Show Me The Results
In the existing draft of Heresy, I capture these three elements (sort of) in my three core guidelines. The Rule of Sweat is all about the level of uncertainty; I chose to put it in the hands of the GM, based on his assessment of the dramatic relevance of this challenge vs. the character's capacities. The Rule of Tears governs sacrifice, also known in the above analysis as Price. This one currently sits in the hands of the player, who can opt to invoke sacrifice in order to pass one of the setbacks the GM threw at him instead of risking dice on it. And the Rule of Blood, in at least one of its versions, governed Stakes. In a way it still does, in governing Fates, except that they're Stakes on a totally second level of 'conflict' resolution with wholly Drama-based mechanics.
But reading Polaris, and doing the above theory, makes me think that I've put these elements in the "wrong" hands. If it takes a fairly strict guideline, I think this may be a clue that it's under the wrong person's control; better to give it to someone who has a vested player interest in seeing it handled appropriately, and give them either a lot of freedom or a lot of constraints.
Which gets me this, fascinating, variant on the design. It owes a lot to Polaris right now, which I expect to decrease as I massage the game from here.
If a given PC gets caught up in a conflict, split the three elements of adversity up among three other players in the game. I'm thinking we want actual symbols for this, as I'd rather not use Polaris' fixed seating-order method here. Skip over how we determine which other player takes on what role; it's important, it's vital, but it's a separate issue. For now, envision it as grab-as-grab-can. That might actually turn out to be the best way.
One player is Fate. Or, tying it to the old nomenclature, Blood of Fate. Their job is to identify and delineate the conflict. Fate's Blood declares "This is a conflict," initiates the use of the mechanics. He names the Stakes on both sides and gets agreement. Probably he gets a big chunk of the responsibility for scene framing, too; that seems like a good fit to the job. We will probably want to give him responsibilities during the resolution as well, to keep him busy (I like Polaris' "controls minor male characters" etc), but it's not honestly necessary. He's invested, he cares.
Another player is Fortune or Circumstance. Or, again tying to the old names, Sweat of Fortune. Their job is to sustain and manage the uncertainty in the conflict. Fortune declares "These things are happening during this conflict," and makes the PC deal with 'em. He sets the number of Setbacks (possibly from a budget, cf. Primetime Adventures), and springs them on the protagonist as he sees opportunities to do so. He gets to throw the curveballs that Setbacks are meant to be - unexpected occurrences, SNAFUs, moments of tension. He's gonna end up with a lot of responsibility for pacing the scene. The decreasing Setback dice sitting in front of him lets everybody get a steadily improving feel for how it's probably going to end.
Another player is Justice, or Tears of Justice, or maybe Judgment in place of Justice. Their job is to handle Price. They are the boss chief of collateral damage. In the design I'm tinkering with here, they get to offer opportunities for sacrifice. Fortune tosses a curveball, and (whether because it caught the player out of left field, or because he's running out of mechanical leverage aka dice) the protagonist's player stutters. Justice can say "Rather than roll dice, I can give you a pass for this Setback. But to get it you have to agree to X." Moral degradation, loss of tools or advantages, collateral damage, future events. X can be either an action on the part of the PC, or an event in the gameworld outside of him. It's the protagonist's player who says yea or nay.
These three play off of the fourth player, the classic 'player' of that character, the Will really if I'm gonna use names like Fate (it's a heavily theological game). He gets the classic level of control - character's actions, intentions, voice - plus the responses listed above to the other three's bailiwicks.
My gut says this would be really cool in actual play. Someone whose sole job (with respect to this PC) is to monitor for, steer toward, and ultimately initiate conflicts which cross the moral lines of Premise? Rockin'. Someone whose sole job is to do the taffy-pull of tension and uncertainty? Cool. And then the devil on your shoulder.
I'm gonna stop there for now, talk about this tonight in person with my usual gang. But screw the old way Fates were handled; split 'em between Fate and Justice in the above, and you're covered and then some.
This is a followup to some of the game design content devolving currently on Vincent Baker's blog. Specifically, before diving into this post, you might want to go read this entry and the dialogue beneath it. I'm gonna jump from there in another direction, though.
I'm going to suggest here that adversity has an anatomy, and that that anatomy is something we should try to get a handle on as designers. By adversity, here, I mean the kind of difficulties which matter, regardless of which playstyle or GNS mode you may be talking about. The adversity may be there to make moral situations that count; it may be there to give you a chance to shine as a player; or it may be there to make the game world glow. Doesn't matter, I think... the adversity itself, as a tool to each of these ends, seems to look pretty much the same.
The easiest bit to identify seems to be the stakes. There has to be something fundamentally at issue, a reason to confront the adversity, a logical consequence of success or failure. You'd think this would be obvious to designers, but just keying in to this element is the difference between conflict resolution and task resolution... and that's a huge difference that even now is used in fewer designs that it deserves.
Adversity clearly involves uncertainty. Exactly what that uncertainty is about isn't a trivial thing; for instance, frequently the uncertainty should most appropriately not be "can he achieve the goal?" it should be "what will it cost him, and is it worth it?". Uncertainty is an interesting element in that it has to be sustained in order to build impact. This is where Dogs in the Vineyard is cool, and knocks some of my tentative thoughts on Heresy right out the window... because in Dogs the bulk of the handling time is given over to sustaining and perpetuating the uncertainty, and as a result you're interested in finding out what the next twist of the conflict will bring, at each instant.
I'm talking literally sustaining it in player terms, here, not in-character time. One of the subtle things about complex systems is that I think it's sometimes the job of the math to serve this function. Say it's a sniper's shot in Phoenix Command or something. The stakes get set quickly, the in-character acts pre-resolution get said almost as quickly. Then you stop and work through a moderately complicated series of modifiers and calculations. While you're doing it, the out-of-character tension is building. The same tension that, in Dogs, is being built by successive Raises and Sees, is being built here by players who understand the math dynamic, watching the modifiers rack up and revising and re-revising their estimates of how it'll come out. Is it as powerful? Heck, no, mostly not. Fewer people are contributing, the individual tension-building events have almost zero in-game Colour attached, it's fortune-at-the-end so the in-character acts are serving to inform the mechanic rather than the other way 'round, and it's task resolution so the conflict will be resolved only emergently. But is it tense? Sometimes, hell yeah.
So let's posit that good adversity depends on protracted uncertainty, to build tension. It's a little like sex that way, though I'll leave continuing that metaphor as an exercise for the reader. Best way to do this is almost certainly some form of multiple-contributor, back-and-forthing mechanism within which we gradually get a better feel for the odds as we approach completion, but can never rule out an upset.
The third and final thing I'd identify on a first pass at this, is that adversity requires a price. At least a potential price. This is, in my eyes, distinct from the stakes; this has to do with things that weren't at issue, necessarily, when we started. In Dogs, for instance, you can have Stakes: "The sorcerer wants you dead. If he wins, you're bleeding and gasping your last." Or you can have Fallout: "Not only did the sorcerer get the girl, but those five d10s of fallout you took from the shotgun to your kidneys is killing you fast." In general, in a conflict, the Stakes remain the Stakes; they're not likely to change, much or often, despite changed circumstances and increased tension. But the Price you might have to pay... that's right at the heart of escalating tension.
You can mix and match those three elements in whatever brew you like, but if they're all good and substantial, then odds are your adversity will be present and will do its job. (Making sure it does so smoothly, encouraging cooperation on the outcome, etc., are all about how you mixed 'em up together.)
So Show Me The Results
In the existing draft of Heresy, I capture these three elements (sort of) in my three core guidelines. The Rule of Sweat is all about the level of uncertainty; I chose to put it in the hands of the GM, based on his assessment of the dramatic relevance of this challenge vs. the character's capacities. The Rule of Tears governs sacrifice, also known in the above analysis as Price. This one currently sits in the hands of the player, who can opt to invoke sacrifice in order to pass one of the setbacks the GM threw at him instead of risking dice on it. And the Rule of Blood, in at least one of its versions, governed Stakes. In a way it still does, in governing Fates, except that they're Stakes on a totally second level of 'conflict' resolution with wholly Drama-based mechanics.
But reading Polaris, and doing the above theory, makes me think that I've put these elements in the "wrong" hands. If it takes a fairly strict guideline, I think this may be a clue that it's under the wrong person's control; better to give it to someone who has a vested player interest in seeing it handled appropriately, and give them either a lot of freedom or a lot of constraints.
Which gets me this, fascinating, variant on the design. It owes a lot to Polaris right now, which I expect to decrease as I massage the game from here.
If a given PC gets caught up in a conflict, split the three elements of adversity up among three other players in the game. I'm thinking we want actual symbols for this, as I'd rather not use Polaris' fixed seating-order method here. Skip over how we determine which other player takes on what role; it's important, it's vital, but it's a separate issue. For now, envision it as grab-as-grab-can. That might actually turn out to be the best way.
One player is Fate. Or, tying it to the old nomenclature, Blood of Fate. Their job is to identify and delineate the conflict. Fate's Blood declares "This is a conflict," initiates the use of the mechanics. He names the Stakes on both sides and gets agreement. Probably he gets a big chunk of the responsibility for scene framing, too; that seems like a good fit to the job. We will probably want to give him responsibilities during the resolution as well, to keep him busy (I like Polaris' "controls minor male characters" etc), but it's not honestly necessary. He's invested, he cares.
Another player is Fortune or Circumstance. Or, again tying to the old names, Sweat of Fortune. Their job is to sustain and manage the uncertainty in the conflict. Fortune declares "These things are happening during this conflict," and makes the PC deal with 'em. He sets the number of Setbacks (possibly from a budget, cf. Primetime Adventures), and springs them on the protagonist as he sees opportunities to do so. He gets to throw the curveballs that Setbacks are meant to be - unexpected occurrences, SNAFUs, moments of tension. He's gonna end up with a lot of responsibility for pacing the scene. The decreasing Setback dice sitting in front of him lets everybody get a steadily improving feel for how it's probably going to end.
Another player is Justice, or Tears of Justice, or maybe Judgment in place of Justice. Their job is to handle Price. They are the boss chief of collateral damage. In the design I'm tinkering with here, they get to offer opportunities for sacrifice. Fortune tosses a curveball, and (whether because it caught the player out of left field, or because he's running out of mechanical leverage aka dice) the protagonist's player stutters. Justice can say "Rather than roll dice, I can give you a pass for this Setback. But to get it you have to agree to X." Moral degradation, loss of tools or advantages, collateral damage, future events. X can be either an action on the part of the PC, or an event in the gameworld outside of him. It's the protagonist's player who says yea or nay.
These three play off of the fourth player, the classic 'player' of that character, the Will really if I'm gonna use names like Fate (it's a heavily theological game). He gets the classic level of control - character's actions, intentions, voice - plus the responses listed above to the other three's bailiwicks.
My gut says this would be really cool in actual play. Someone whose sole job (with respect to this PC) is to monitor for, steer toward, and ultimately initiate conflicts which cross the moral lines of Premise? Rockin'. Someone whose sole job is to do the taffy-pull of tension and uncertainty? Cool. And then the devil on your shoulder.
I'm gonna stop there for now, talk about this tonight in person with my usual gang. But screw the old way Fates were handled; split 'em between Fate and Justice in the above, and you're covered and then some.
<< Home