I just downloaded Dogs in the Vineyard a few days ago, and I’ve been reading through it since then. I must say, I’m intrigued. It’s got an interesting premise and some very cool, very simple mechanics for conflict resolution. One big thing that it’s done for me, though, is it’s got me thinking a lot about what I call “The Mechanics Continuum”.

Now, what the krunk do I mean by that? As I see it, the Continuum is a sort of catch-all concept for mechanics design philosophy, with two opposite poles. On one end, you’ve got the rules-heavy systems; these systems are designed by people who really dig game mechanics in general, and believe that a good game should be inherently balanced, and should have rules systems to handle just about every conceivable situation. On the other end, there are the rules-light systems; these systems are designed by people who feel that story is more important than rules, and believe that, while balance might be important, individual GMs and players are completely capable of dealing with game balance and handling situations that fall outside of the normal rules. These are the extremes; most games fall somewhere in the middle. By way of example, Dogs in the Vineyard falls more to the rules-light end of the continuum, while something like the d20 System or Rifts would probably lean more toward the rules-heavy end. For the record: I don’t think that either end is necessarily better than the other. I really like Dogs, and I’m also a big fan of the d20 System. I like the crunchy bits, but I also like the broad strokes of games that leave it up to the GM and the players.

I guess that means that I’m probably right in the middle of the continuum somewhere, and that’s the perspective I’m coming from when I write the rules for Gamecraft 2.0. It’s pretty rules-light in comparison to d20, but it’s a bit crunchier than Dogs. I use a lot of broad strokes and give the players and the GM a lot of freedom (as well as responsibility), but I do try to cover as many situations as I feasibly can within the core system.

I distinctly remember Monte Cook talking about how Arcana Unearthed was geared toward experienced GMs, and deliberately left certain things vague in order to allow the GMs to fill that stuff in for themselves. I’m a big fan of this methodology, and I am using a similar methodology in Gamecraft 2.0. The difference is that I’m not just trying to empower the GM; I’m also trying to empower the players.

What do I mean by that? In general, I like RPGs and rules systems that give the players a lot of power over the direction that the story takes. I like rules that allow players to affect the story in meaningful ways. I don’t mean to say that the players’ actions aren’t meaningful; I think that they are, perhaps, the most meaningful things that happen in the game. However, I like allowing the players to affect how the world reacts to their presence. I like allowing them to step in and do my job for a couple of minutes, once in a while. Serenity’s Plot Points are a good example of a mechanic that does this.

I’m building Gamecraft 2.0 from the ground up with that in mind. The combat and damage system allows players a lot of control over how damage affects them, provided they can provide justification. And this, really, is another thing I like: I like the players coming up with new ideas, and justifying them to me, trying to get me to allow them. I like it because it encourages more of that behavior, since I usually allow these ideas when I like the justification behind them. And I like it because it encourages roleplaying by giving a tangible reward for a good bit of roleplay.

As I create Gamecraft 2.0, I’m going to write little snippets like that that show you what I’m thinking while I do it. I like sharing my point of view on these types of things, and I also encourage feedback.

From The House of the Harping Monkey:

Yes, good roleplaying should be its own reward . . . in a perfect world. However, you have to ask yourself which is more important: being upset that the world isn’t perfect, or using in-game tools to aspire to something that might one day approach perfection (or, at least, good roleplaying for its own sake).

Let’s take Serenity’s plot points as an example. These points are handed out to players for doing things in-character, especially roleplaying their flaws. In turn, merely having plot points encourages more good roleplaying, because you can spend them to affect the story in significant ways. I like to think of this as a Very Good Mechanic, because it creates a sort of roleplaying feedback loop that gradually improves everyone’s ability to roleplay. And, if you really don’t like the idea of mechanically rewarding a player for good roleplaying, you can treat them as training wheels: use them a lot at first, as a roleplaying catalyst, then gradually fade them out. However, I much prefer the idea of keeping this mechanic in the game, and using it in leu of pure experience points (especially since Serenity allows you to cash some of your plot points in for expereince at the end of the session).

I think the need to have good roleplaying be its own reward comes down to a fundamental difference in the experience and viewpoint of the GM and the players. Each player plays and is responsible for a single character. On some level, a player is aware that he is responsible for everyone else having fun in addition to himself (if he’s a really good player, he’s very aware of that and takes it into consideration often), but mostly he’s trying to have as much fun as he can playing. Getting a reward for doing something that makes the game more fun for everyone makes the game more fun for the individual player, and thus encourages the former behavior.

The GM, by contrast, has to be aware that he is responsible for everyone at the table having a good time; thus, you’re going to tend to see the GM doing more in-character roleplay, regardless of the consequences to that character, without expectation of tangible reward. The GM, in addition, has that luxury. If a favorite character dies, it’s dissappointing, but the GM can create a new one to take its place, and has a bunch more already anyway. If a PC’s favorite character dies (or is even handicapped temporarily by roleplaying a flaw particularly well), it might make the game overall more fun, and it might add to everyone’s experience, but it’s probably going to slightly decrease that player’s enjoyment on some level. We, as GMs, have to remember that good roleplaying often involves some sort of sacrifice to the alter of shared experience, a point that is far more poignant to players than to GMs.

Once again, something I posted over on Treasure Tables bore repetition here. I’ll probably be doing this sort of thing from time to time.

Always, always remember that, as the GM, you are within your rights to cheat like crazy. In fact, it is absolutely your responsibility to cheat, provided that you’re doing so in order to make a better game for everyone. If the PCs are fighting a particularly difficult (or merely resilient) monster, and you either fear a TPK or a stalemate, adjust the monster’s difficulty on the fly. You can simply lower its hit points, or you can give it a great weakness, and hint at that weakness to your players (“Make an Intelligence check. Ok, you notice that, though the creature is covered in hard, chitinous armor, there seems to be a plate missing on its right side, under its arm.”). That way, the players can bypass the monster through some clever maneuvering, rather than simply beating on it forever.

As for the puzzle that just won’t stop: I think you should come up with a solution beforehand, but you shouldn’t be afraid to throw it out the window if the PCs come up with something better. A puzzle in an RPG should be challenging and satisfying, not a frustrating roadblock that disrupts the flow of play.

There is, of course, another solution: let the players cheat. Kind of. In my upcoming Iron Heroes/Eberron campaign, I plan on giving the PCs access to Story Tokens, so that they can exhert more control over the world around them. Remember that roleplaying is a collaborative storytelling art. This isn’t about you telling a story to your players, it’s about the entire group telling the story. You, as the GM, get to guide the story and have to come up with a lot of the plot points, but that doesn’t mean that the PCs can’t help you out with that.

I recently replied to a thread on Treasure Tables’ Forum, and thought that it would make a pretty good post for my own site. So, here is my reply, modified for clarity since there’s no real context.

When I start a campaign, I usually dedicate the entire first session to character generation, before I start really making notes on the adventure, itself. I usually have a general idea of things that I want to happen, but I don’t really start coming up with the good ideas until the characters are made. The reason I do things this way is that I like to build the story around those specific characters. I like to add in places where different characters get a chance to shine, and it also allows me to build a logical framework for why the PCs are together and why they’d be going on this particular adventure. This is actually a lot easier with just one player, since you only have that character to consider when you’re coming up with ideas for your adventure, but it can be a lot more satisfying with a group. Occasionally I’ll also work with individual players to create personal goals that their characters are trying to complete, and I give some sort of incentive (money, XP, bragging rights, whatever) for completion.

As for random encounters: I don’t use them. I used to, but I found that it slowed the game down unnecessarily and many of the encounters didn’t make sense. That doesn’t mean that seemingly random things don’t happen; bandits still waylay the party in transit, and they still have to fight goblins just outside of town occasionally. However, I draw a distinction between a ‘random encounter’ and a ‘wilderness encounter’ or ‘side encounter’. The former implies no planning, and no purpose. The other two terms are how I describe encounters that may or may not have something to do with the main story arc, but are still planned encounters that serve a purpose other than to give the PCs something to beat on. If your player likes story more than combat, you may want to use this approach. The thing to remember is: never include a combat for the sake of having a combat, unless the PC initiates it. If you include an encounter, make sure that it contributes to the game overall, rather than just to the PCs’ experience total. Also, I find that a random encounter is usually largely forgettable, while a planned side encounter can be made memorable in a number of ways. To make including these encounters easier for you as the GM, you can try writing up a few encounters before each session (two or three should do it), and use them whenever you think they’re necessary. A good encounter can be dropped in just about anywhere, with little modification, and if you wind up not using one then you have an extra encounter for the next session.

Finally, travel. As I said above, I do sometimes include wilderness encounters for PCs to deal with en route; this adds a sense of verisimilitude to the game, and lets the PCs know that the wilderness is a dangerous place. However, sometimes (oftentimes, actually) it’s perfectly acceptable to simply say, “You travel for six days, and finally reach the City of Splendors without incident.” Not every journey needs to include danger and excitement; sometimes you want to get to the good stuff faster, right?

This is a mechanic that borrows heavily from Serenity: The Roleplaying Game, by Jaimie Chambers and Margaret Weis. I re-tooled it for the d20 System, specifically for a varient that I’m working on right now. I’ve edited the below entry to make it more generic and less specific to my varient. Disclaimer: this mechanic will afford the PCs more power than the core d20 System does. You may have to adjust your encounters accordingly.
Story Tokens
Story tokens are a mechanic to allow players greater control over the game world, and their characters’ destiny. Each character starts the game with 3 story tokens, and gains additional tokens during play. Story tokens may be spent in a variety of ways. Note that only player characters have access to story tokens.
Gaining Story Tokens
The GM may award a player story tokens for the completion of a goal, for role-playing particularly well, or for performing a dramatic and important action. There are no specific guidelines restricting story token awards; however, a player may never have more tokens than 10 + her character level.
Spending Story Tokens
Story tokens may be spent at any time, for a variety of purposes. Spending story tokens is never an action, but often accompanies an action. A player may spend story tokens on behalf of another player, but may not give story tokens to another player. Story tokens may be spent in the following ways:
Fudge the Dice: A single story token may be spent in order to gain a +3 bonus to a single die roll. You may spend up to 4 story tokens at a time in this manner, for a maximum bonus of +12. You may also spend 8 story tokens in order to automatically and instantaneously take 20 on a single roll, regardless of whether or not you would normally be able to take 20 on that roll. Taking 20 in this manner does not use any extra time.
Cheat Death: You may spend 2 story tokens in order to automatically stabilize when your hit points have been brought down to negative numbers. You may also spend 6 story tokens any time you would take enough damage or suffer an effect that would cause your death; doing so negates the damage or effect completely.
Swap Tokens: You may, at any time, trade in story tokens for tokens of any other type, on a one-for-one basis. (This particular use of story tokens is designed for games that use other types of tokens, such as Monte Cook’s Iron Heroes.)
Call in a Favor: Story tokens may be spent in order to call in favors from NPCs in the world. Note that you must be able to justify this expenditure; that is, you must be able to explain why that NPC owes you a favor of that magnitude.

• 4 tokens buy you a minor favor, such as the loan of a small amount of money, a free piece of relatively inexpensive equipment, or a bit of useful information.
• 6 tokens buy you a moderate favor, such as a guard looking the other way when you’re caught in the act, the loan of a large sum of money, or a small sum of money, no strings attached.
• 8 tokens buy you a major favor, such as a pardon from the local magistrate, a free horse, or the loan of a huge sum of money.
• If you are calling in a favor from an NPC with moderate power or influence, such as a local governor or lord, a moderately powerful fence or crime boss, or a minor warlord, add 2 tokens to the cost of the favor.
• If you are calling in a favor from an NPC with a high degree of power or influence, such as the king of a nation, the high priest of a major religion, or the commander of a very large army, add 4 tokens to the cost of the favor.

Stroke of Luck: This is perhaps the most potent, and potentially useful, application of story tokens. Players may spend tokens in order to alter the game world in some ways; however, any alterations must be approved by the GM, and must be justified by the player. For example, a PC could spend tokens in order to say that a friend of his lives nearby when the party is in need of a place to rest and recuperate, but saying that his friend is actually the king of the land would be a bit of a stretch. This use of story tokens also requires a fair amount of GM adjucation; the cost of this ability can range from a single story token when the thief suddenly realizes that, yes, she does have an extra set of lock picks in her backpack to replace the ones that just broke, all the way up to 30+ tokens for extremely significant changes to the game world, such as a PC realizing that he is, in fact, the legitimate heir to the throne of the recently deceased king.
Break the Rules: If a PC wants to do something that isn’t normally allowed by the rules—such as running up a wall or opening a locked chest with a swift kick, she may spend story tokens in order to effectively make the action legal, just this once. Depending on just how outrageous the action is this could cost anywhere from 1 story token to 30+. The GM, however, has the final word.

I have three things I’d like to post about today.

*Underworld: Evolution*
Yes, I saw it yesterday. To sum it up: crap, but not in a bad way. I went into the first _Underworld_ movie with very low expectations, and came away pleasantly surprised. It wasn’t great art, but it was a fun and enjoyable movie, and I’m glad I saw it. I went into _Underworld: Evolution_ once again with low expectations (it is, after all, a sequel to a movie that I didn’t like enough to buy on DVD), and once again I was pleasantly surprised. I’m sensing a pattern here. At any rate, _Evolution_ isn’t as good as the first one; the first movie focused a little more on plot and character development, where as this movie focuses more on action and over-the-top gore. It’s still an enjoyable movie, provided you’re not expecting too much.

*Settlers of Catan*
I played this board game for the first time last night, and I really enjoyed it. For those who are unfamiliar with it, _Settlers of Catan_ revolves around building roads, settlements, and cities on a randomly-generated board, as well as gathering and trading resources. Settlements and cities are worth victory points, as are some other things, and the first one to ten victory points wins. It’s fun, easy to learn, and requires a fair amount of thought and strategy.

*More Playtesting*
I got to playtest my own card game last night with a group of three other people (I’m thinking of maxing the number of players out at four), and it was very productive. They enjoyed the game, so I think I’m on the right track, but there are a number of things I’d like to change now. I also have to find a way to decrease the length of time it takes to play a game with four people; it takes about half an hour with two, but about an hour and a half with four, which may be too long for some.

Well, I finally got a prototype for my card game printed up, and my wife and I played last night for the first time. It’s amazing what even one session of playtesting will turn up; there are a number of rules conflicts that have come to light, and we both found ways of making the gameplay more fun. I’ll be playtesting it again today (hopefully with two other people, so I can see how the dynamic changes in a three-player game).

I just got done reading The Game Inventor’s Guidebook, by Brian Tinsman. I highly recommend this book to anyone looking to get a game published; it’s got a lot of very useful information in it. In addition to being useful as a source of advice, it’s also a very entertaining read; Tinsman has a sort of dry wit that’s very appealing. While I was reading the book, I found that it stimulated my imagination, got me thinking. Anyway, as I was reading, I was also designing a game (at first in my head, then putting it down on paper), and I plan on using the advice in the _Guidebook_ to get it published.

Something that I probably haven’t mentioned on this site before is that I have kind of a soft-spot for card-based games. I like _Magic: The Gathering_ a lot, and I also got pretty obsessed with _Age of Mythology: The Boardgame_ for a while, as it has a very appealing card-based mechanic for performing actions (you can ready my review here). At any rate, I’m designing a card game. Something that always strikes me when I get into a creative mode like this is how a game evolves as you write it. When I started, I had a certain idea of how the gameplay would work, and that idea changed on a daily basis. I’ve finally got it in a semi-stable state, and I can’t wait to print up a prototype and start playtesting it, mainly because I want to see how else it’s going to change as a result of no longer being developed in a vacuum. In any case, you may hear more about my game in future posts.