I’ve enjoyed
dabbling with the Old School Renaissance (OSR). It’s nice to
indulge my nostalgic tendencies and revel in some of the innovations
people are sharing based on the old “core” fantasy roleplaying
game rule sets: Erik “Tenkar” Stiene’s Swords & Wizardry Light, James Spahn’s The Hero’s Journey, Scott Malthouse’s Romance of the Perilous Land, among others in
the back of my mind. Yet the OSR itself caters to gamers with at
least some experience with any earlier flavor of Dungeons &
Dragons and roleplaying games, whether someone played once in
high school or has been playing regularly for years. It’s not
exactly a clear entry point for newcomers to the roleplaying game
hobby. Since OSR titles are primarily available through online
venues, they’re not visible in hobby, game, or book stores –
unlike the current edition of D&D – and none of the OSR
games have really, to my estimation, catered to complete
beginners.... Until now. Nathan J. Hill’s The Basic Hack, an
iteration of David Black’s The Black Hack, incorporates a
few elements and a distillation of the OSR gaming experience I feel
can offer an entry point for new gamers, either in the hands of an
experienced gamemaster or even on their own.
Tuesday, January 31, 2017
Tuesday, January 17, 2017
Evaluating Player Choice
Every game
offers players different choices. Some, particularly kids games like
Candyland and Snakes and Ladders, offer no choices amid their
extremely structured play experiences (and one might argue whether
they’re tecnically “games”). Others like roleplaying games
revel in the concept that “anything can be attempted” by
providing an environment with seemingly infinite choices. Analyzing
the degree of player choice in individual games can help us evaluate
their suitability for different audiences or even our own gaming
interest.
While contemplating the issue of player choice I’m reminded of two graphics in Damon Knight’s Creating Short Fiction, my handy go-to reference when I need inspiration in that field. In the section on “Using Constraints” Knight provides two illustrations to demonstrate how restricting story elements can limit characters. One looks like a well in which the character crouches beneath a stone cave-in, the other look like the symbol of chaos with a character and question mark in the middle. This also represents the restraints of player choice in games. In the former the character/player has few or no choices, hence limiting the story/game experience; in the latter the character/player has infinite choices with little guidance where to proceed. In most instances games should avoid offering no or too few choices. In some cases, particularly roleplaying games, players enjoy having too many choices; they’re often narrowed by in-game situations or character race or class limitations. New players might prefer games with a handful of choices each turn. Experienced gamers might prefer having numerous options open. This may explain the renewed popularity of Euro-style board games and the esoteric reputation roleplaying games retain among the general, non-gaming public. The more choices available to players the more daunting games seem to newcomers; yet that wealth of choice also attracts game enthusiasts to more complex game experiences like wargames and roleplaying games.
While contemplating the issue of player choice I’m reminded of two graphics in Damon Knight’s Creating Short Fiction, my handy go-to reference when I need inspiration in that field. In the section on “Using Constraints” Knight provides two illustrations to demonstrate how restricting story elements can limit characters. One looks like a well in which the character crouches beneath a stone cave-in, the other look like the symbol of chaos with a character and question mark in the middle. This also represents the restraints of player choice in games. In the former the character/player has few or no choices, hence limiting the story/game experience; in the latter the character/player has infinite choices with little guidance where to proceed. In most instances games should avoid offering no or too few choices. In some cases, particularly roleplaying games, players enjoy having too many choices; they’re often narrowed by in-game situations or character race or class limitations. New players might prefer games with a handful of choices each turn. Experienced gamers might prefer having numerous options open. This may explain the renewed popularity of Euro-style board games and the esoteric reputation roleplaying games retain among the general, non-gaming public. The more choices available to players the more daunting games seem to newcomers; yet that wealth of choice also attracts game enthusiasts to more complex game experiences like wargames and roleplaying games.
Tuesday, January 10, 2017
The Role Game Cons Play
I’m no pollster, nor am I a statistician; but I’d love to run
a survey across the spectrum of the adventure gaming hobby to see how
often gamers attend conventions of any size. What percentage never
attend a convention each year? What percentage gets to a premiere
event like GenCon? How important are conventions to the average
gamer? My own involvement with gaming conventions (or media
conventions with gaming tracks) has varied as I’ve grown and
changed as a gamer. They offer opportunities to game with others,
hang out with members of the gaming community, discover new games,
and shop with vendors; but how important is the convention experience
to the average gamer?
Many hobbies sponsor conventions to promote their pursuits,
showcase vendors, and provide a forum for participants to share their
enthusiasm. Given adventure gaming’s social nature it makes sense
that conventions have played a key role in both promoting the hobby
but helping it evolve. Reading Jon Peterson’s Playing at the World one sees how early conventions like the GenCon shows in
Lake Geneva (established in 1968) and the Origins Game Fair (started
in 1975) brought together enthusiast-designers such as Gary Gygax,
Dave Arneson, Rob Kuntz, and Jeff Perrin (to name a scant few) to
share ideas and forge partnerships in developing new games...not to
mention gamers eager for play experiences and new product. Reading
the game magazines of the time (primarily Dragon Magazine) one
sees a host of ads for game conventions and reports of activities
there, giving average gamers the impression attending such cons was a
much a part of the hobby as creating characters, devising scenarios,
and running adventures. The magazine and other publications also ran
listings for smaller, regional conventions that might prove more
accessible to enthusiasts.
Running Valley of the Ape at Barrage. |
Tuesday, January 3, 2017
Persistence & Professionalism
Several factors
came together last week to remind me of two important elements from
my own game-writing experience: persistence and professionalism. I’m
puttering around tidying up parts of my office (along with other bits
in the house long-neglected in my fight against the Lords of Chaos
and their glaciers of clutter); I stumbled upon some letters and
materials from my earliest game submissions in my high school days,
embarrassing tidbits from a time when I didn’t quite know what I
was doing. My brother-in-law’s family got me Stephen King’s On
Writing for Christmas, in which I’m finding some inspiration
and re-affirmation. It’s all reminding me how much persistence and
professionalism have played a role in my growth as a writer.
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