The Bookshelf
  • If on a winter's night a traveler
    If on a winter's night a traveler
    by Italo Calvino
  • The Lies of Locke Lamora
    The Lies of Locke Lamora
    by Scott Lynch
Links
Behave
What Dumb Thing Am I Thinking Right Now?

The Bookshelf
  • The Art of Game Design: A book of lenses
    The Art of Game Design: A book of lenses
    by Jesse Schell
  • If on a winter's night a traveler
    If on a winter's night a traveler
    by Italo Calvino
  • Boneshaker (Sci Fi Essential Books)
    Boneshaker (Sci Fi Essential Books)
    by Cherie Priest

Entries in actual play (14)

Wednesday
10Feb2010

What I'm Playing: Feb '10

In the course of developing a tabletop RPG and transitioning from doing that to being part of the design team for an MMO, it's a fact of the matter and a job requirement that I play a lot of games. I'm not necessarily playing all of the next big things, however. I'm playing things that I find interesting. I'm playing things that have little bits I can learn from or assimilate, things that are object lessons in features I'm working on, or proofs of concept for high-minded ideas.

Doodle Bomb: A fun little physics game for the iPhone. I like the way they pair achievements with each level. I also like the DIY look of the game, which is sort of an object lesson that games (or their parts) are the creations of the people behind them.

Assassin's Creed 2: The only triple-A I'm playing right now, and this has a lot going for it. I like the sandbox of improving the villa, the improvements in gameplay from the first one, the customization options, the way the world lore is presented, and even (mostly) the control scheme. Oh, and that the memory-regression aspect now enhances the play rather than getting in its way.

Canabalt: Another nifty indie, this one with an implied world that I find really interesting (what the hell is going on? Oh, things are really bad.), and gameplay that's exciting and kinetic without being seizure-inducing.

EVE Online: Duh. The ultimate virtual world, even if saying so suggests a bias.

Button Men: A fun tabletop quickie converted to a compelling portable version I can play by myself. I said "play by myself," you pervs.

Final Fantasy Crystal Defenders: It's a spreadsheet with a Final Fantasy skin on it. Sold. A testament to the power of brand, with a nod to the old-school origins of the property.

Lady Blackbird: A coming session with an all-female player group is on the schedule. The rules-light construction and setting sold me on trying to convince my wife to give this a shot, so we'll see where it goes.

Savage Worlds: The engine here felt like the best match for a three-story arc set in a homebrew world that i've been putting together. It might also host my Thatcher-era zombiefest if I want to turn up the cinematics a notch higher than World of Darkness handles well.

Farmville: This has definitely been one that's more research than entertainment, and I'm about done spending time with it. I'd posit that this is a toy more than a game, but I really like the way it encourages people to interact with one another. It makes a clever use of the only resource a player has that really matters (time) by rewarding them with in-game benefits for helping out their friends, and that's a great way to foster return visits and community.

What are you playing? What have you learned from it, enjoyed, or thought, "that's a damn fine feature, and one that I'd like to put my own spin on"?

Thursday
04Feb2010

Presenting Information: Lore in Context

Tragically, you're still some kind of time-traveling sci-fi memory regression experiment instead of an actual historical agent provocateur.In Assassin's Creed 2, occasional information updates in your game lore library. You press a button that takes you out of play and into the info-dump screen...

...and it works.

This is one of the precise things I railed about Dragon Age doing, and yet it works in Assassin's Creed 2.

I'm not sure why. I've been thinking about it and the strongest reasoning I've been able to come up with is that it feels like part of what I should be doing. In AC2, I'm an assassin, so I'm supposed to be gathering information and compiling intelligence on my location, my allies, and my marks. In the context of AC2 gameplay, gathering information feels like something the character should be doing. In the context of Dragon Age, it feels like something the player might want to do.

Monday
07Dec2009

Not Drowning, Waving

I never get enough chances to game. Between work and daddy duty at night, I have precious little time to get together around the table with friends to roll dice, tell stories, and make memories. So it was with great enthusiasm that I anticipated Google Wave, the real-time communication platform that allowed remote collaboration for groups. It seemed like a great virtual game table that did what I needed it to: overcome geography and permit bite-sized portions of convenience gaming. I have about two hours on any given night that I can spend on entertainment. Until then, I'm chasing a little monster around the house, cooking, doing the dishes, or folding laundry. (Pretty domestic for a rock-star game designer, don't you know, but having a kid really changes your priorities.)

I don't know what they're playing, but that guy is way more animated than I am at my computer when gaming via Google Wave.Some of the gaming crew and I put together a Wave game, and let me tell you, you just can't overcome some of the realistic inhibitors to gaming. Schedule for one -- we've played perhaps three sessions in six weeks, owing largely to people's schedules and that two-hour time frame I'm available to run it.

Technically, Wave is a little unstable. That's understandable, given that it's a beta, but an exploding wave can derail a game's pacing. Especially once the wave comes to a certain size, it feels like things are a little more prone to collapsing. To be fair, it's pretty stable, it just stinks when the occasional glitches bring things to a halt.

As well, using a dice bot has its own troubles. These little gadgets are written and hosted externally, so using a third-party tool like dice bot can leave you stranded for a die roll or delayed uncomfortably. Sometimes a result just never happens, so users have to try again or use the honor system for a tabletop die roll at a player's desk. I can only imagine this becomes more frustrating when using a more technical widget like Fighty, or one in which the GM is using some sort of graphics program to update maps or artifacts on the fly.

The game I'm running is pretty narrative, and we're using 3.5 D&D for simplicity and ubiquity's sake. As it turns out, system hasn't been very intrusive. I'm reluctant to call Wave good for "system-agnostic" gaming, but with my preferred playstyle, it works well even with a ruleset designed to be fairly ruley. The game we're playing is an exploration campaign, which allows most non-combat rolls to determine what sort of information I reveal and how much. Most skill rolls translate really to Gather (Some Kind of) Information.

That's where it starts to come apart, actually. Pacing has been a problem. On the one hand, it's a narrative heavy game, and the players get to have as much exposition and conversation as they want. On the other hand, as GM, it's my job to move the action along, and I feel a bit guilty for hustling players into an encounter when they're obviously having fun with the table chat. But then, if all we get done for the night is a conversation with town elders at the alehouse, well that's not much exploration, now, is it? But I'm likewise certain that players don't want to spend any more time being typed at than I already do.

Tabletop gaming already has a sense of downtime between meaningful actions, and this remains present in Wave.That's the thing. The game I'm running is like narrative gameplay around a conventional tabletop, but it takes a lot longer to resolve the same sorts of encounters that would conclude in 15-30 minutes around the table. Two hours accomplishes some exposition and a single conflict resolution.

None of that makes me disappointed in Wave. Far from it. It remains a very powerful collaborative tool, but it feels like it works better in short, enthusiastic bursts. I think it'd be better to design a game in Wave than it is to play games via Wave.

I'm going to stick with the game for a while, hoping to iron out the pacing kinks and hopefully achieve a regular schedule. I just can't shake the feeling that this feels like Gaming Lite, and I want fare a little more substantial. Again, that's not a fault of the medium. I have high hopes for collaborative design projects using Wave, it just hasn't proven to be the gaming panacea I desired.

Interested in seeing how the sessions shaped up? I''ll add you to the waves if you send me your Wave account address. I don't want to make the waves entirely public, so I can keep out the spam and the unwelcome bots.

 

Wednesday
02Dec2009

Aion In Retrospect

Joshua Loomis put up a post recently about his mostly positive experience with Aion, which is an enjoyable read, especially on the level of the player relationships that form. My experiences weren't the same as his, so as a critical thinking exercise, I considered what I liked and disliked about the month I spent playing it.

Likes

I liked the look of Aion, and the pastels-and-neons palette was refreshing.

  • The art direction was a refreshing break from Grimdark Grayscale and His Kingdom of Brown. While the anime designs of the characters didn't do anything for me, I like that everything attempted to be vibrant instead of muddy and "realistic."
  • Kind of fun combat feedback. Satisfying sounds on whacking things, with occasional "extra hits" that did only one or two points of additional damage, but were exciting and empowering to hear. THREE HITS! Yeah! P-P-POW!
  • I liked building the combos in combat. Weirdly, this left me cold in Age of Conan, but worked for me here. I'm not sure why.
  • Loved the music. Loved the architecture of the city (but see below).
  • Taken in sum, the world is actually pretty small, but they do a good job of making it feel large.
  • Good use of cutscenes and engine movies to introduce world lore.
  • My wife played this a liked it. She's never played an MMO before. I don't think she liked it enough to actually buy a copy or pay a monthly subscription, but she whiled away some time on it. She especially liked character creation, and while doing that, she didn't use the advanced tools but rather cycled through the pre-sets until she found one she mostly liked. She did use the basic customization tools, though.

Dislikes

  • This feels like a place I'd want to explore -- especially in a skyship -- but the general experience followed the rails too much for true exploration.For me, the game immediately failed the "Why would I play this instead of WoW?" test. Its gameplay is wholly derivative of WoW clone, with nothing significant to distinguish it from its predecessor. I suspect Aion will start to lose subscriptions pretty significantly after the time included with the box expires and level off around 200,000 players in the western market.
  • The advancement mechanic is tied to the dated, tiresome, quest-grind and mob-killing model. Killing and looting doesn't really offer much I haven't seen before, so again, if that's the primary avenue of gameplay, why wouldn't I stick with WoW, where I can potentially play with 10 million other people?
  • They didn't have all of their promised features implemented. In particular, they were supposed to have a community-building help system in which the players who offered good feedback and got good peer reviews earned points that they could use to buy unique in-game items and improvements. This wasn't present at launch.
  • Being able to change your avatar after character creation didn't actually work, but they left the interface in there.
  • Massively Multiplayer Solo Game. I felt neither guided toward multiplayer content, nor especially enthusiastic about sharing the existing content with anyone else. Everything felt safe and contained, so even when I was conducting my illicit activity with the banished Asmodean -- the chrysalis point at which the Asmodeans earn their wings -- I didn't have a thrill of commerce with a subversive element. Everyone in the world is turned into a daeva by the same guy stuck in the crystal. This cast into sharp relief that none of the PVE content I ever completed in the game was ever going to have an effect on the world, and that everything would reset or respawn so the next solo player ambling by could have it, too.
  • Asmodeans have neck-back-mullets. Not sexy.

The world and creature design was interesting and felt exhilarating, but ultimately became repetitive.

  • The voice effects for invoking magic powers ("Ja-ha-fray! Cabrero!") didn't feel like an otherworldly language, and eventually, they just grated.
  • You can fly! Well, not here. Not here, either. Nope, not there. Here! Well, for a little while at least. Oops, you fell and died.
  • Okay, so for creatures who can fly, don't you think they'd have built their cities where they'd be able to fly? And have flying be a part of their architecture? Nope. The core cities of the daevas were built for two-dimensional navigation.
  • I felt punished for exploration. This is a deal-breaker for me. There were certain places I could glide, but once I got there, there was no way to get back. This was especially punishing if I flew into the water, because some water I could walk in, and other water was immediately damaging to me. Some regions were also mountainous, and once I flew or glided into those regions, I was trapped there.
  • The experience point death penalty felt retrograde and clumsy. There's no immediate or "right" solution to the death-penalty issue that's playstyle-agnostic, so I accept this as a design decision consciously made, it's just one that I didn't like.
  • Random success/ failure on gathering and crafting had no significance. Let me do it or don't. Watching a channeling bar while the game rolls invisible dice is no substitute for gameplay, and having the results affected by that invisible die roll I couldn't affect at all completely takes the player out of the endeavor.
  • I have some kind of cube… but I never see it visually represented as a cube, so why is it a cube? Oh, it's a backpack. Why didn't you just say "backpack?" And why can only the cat-things make my cube hold more stuff? What the hell is going on here?
  • Not enough content existed to give the player a broad base of activities. When you're level X, you go to the one area where you do stuff geared to level X. If you don't have much interest in that content, you have no option. Everything else is under you or above your capability.
  • The marketing was disingenuous. You can be whatever you want! So long as what you want is one of four classes. And those four classes are classes that exist in every other game. I felt lied to by the marketing, which isn't a surprise, but what's wrong with marketing actually talking about what the game is about? One day, somebody's going to sell and sustain a billion copies of a game by playing straight with their customers.
  • Character progression was unsteady. At some levels, I got a bunch of new powers, while at others, I got nothing, which made those levels feel extra-tedious.
  • As well, once I earned new powers, I had to buy them from a vendor as items and then double-click them to learn them. I guess this exists so I can sell recipes I find as dropped loot, but it felt like an extraneous layer of interface that offered nothing but frustration. I have Jump-Kick of the Space Devil… no, wait, I haven't clicked on it in my cubic backpack yet. Okay, now I have it.
Wednesday
28Oct2009

Revisiting the Origins of the Experience

I ran the pink box about two weeks ago, good ol' Moldvay basic. For those around the table who didn't have access to the plundered artifacts of my pernicious youth, Goblinoid Games' excellent Labyrinth Lord suited their character creation and reference needs perfectly. In fact, I'd say the two are almost identical, with the exception of a few spells and monsters and the prices of equipment.

How did it go? Fifty percent party kill.

You know what first-level characters don't look like? This.I had taken one of Christopher B's excellent one-page maps and thrown a few cursory details at it, taking several of the pink box's suggestions to heart: A variety of critters occupied this dungeon. That is, I didn't construct the thing laboriously with a careful plot and a monomonstrous tenant. This wasn't "the goblin cave," nor was it "lair of the lizard men." In my brief setting sketch, it was a mountain-bound dwarfhold that had recently been infested from below by all sorts of nefarious critters. It was a nice enough scenario, feeling enough like a story to lend the delve purpose more than just bashing away at whatever came the party's way.

Four players participated, using first-level characters. I would have liked more, but as busy as we are these days, someone always has a lunch meeting. The intrepid adventurers didn't bother with hirelings or retainers, either. To be honest, I think it skipped their minds. At least half of them weren't alive when these rules were first published, and the other half play current games or incarnations of D&D, so the fact that you all but need dragon fodder at low levels slipped their mind.

We played for only an hour, but it was certainly enough to see the rules in operation. I enforced encumbrance, the recommended time-elapse increments, and light source bookkeeping. The exploration didn't happen quite as I'd have liked it to, but I always have this problem during dungeon crawls: I draw a little more or a little less on the map than what the players would probably see in that time increment. In fact, this was a core divergence from the pink box as written -- we used minis to represent movement and location, and we used them with an assumed scale equal to that of 3.x and 4e D&D. As written, the basic rules assume a much more painterly experience, with the DM describing what the players see and the woestricken mapper interpreting the DM's narrative onto graph paper. I ran it the opposite, adding rooms and hallways as the party progressed. No harm, no foul, really, but it did feel more tactical than the quasi-fairy tale feel that I remember my old RPG sessions having when I was but a rusty scuppernong.

I don't know what a rusty scuppernong is, either.

This is what gaming art looked like in 1981, and I really wanted to recapture some of that nostalgia and wonder.Anyway, I also used the morale rules as written, and two rooms worth of goblins panicked and ran before any member of the party took a single point of damage. One goblin ran into a room that harbored a double-handful of skeletons -- and that's where two members of the party met their unfortunate ends. Of course, the party had no cleric and the magic-user had already used his solitary magic missile on a goblin earlier, so nine skeletons were bound to give them estimable trouble.

Some highlights of the experience:

  • In practice, the magic-user mirthfully waded into combat after using his sole offensive spell, which I was glad to see. It ended up killing him, of course, but the point is that he was participating.
  • The comparative simplicity of the combat rules made running the conflicts a breeze. Tactical movement was just a question which monster to which players stood adjacent -- movement had no impediments or circuitous routes concocted to avoid opportunity attacks. People just moved where they wanted and tossed dice, and it was fun.
  • In preparation, I liked reading all that vintage advice that showed the roots of the hobby, and evinced how the designers wanted the game to be played. Treasure, for example. The designers recommend that some monsters have no treasure, and that large troves of treasure exists in other places. Effectively what this does is encourage the PC party to choose their fights. They don't have to kill every monster in the joint, because treasure also gives experience, and because if they do fight every monster in the joint, one of those monsters will have a lucky attack and murder at least one of them. The morale rules help them almost as much as combat, ensuring that some of those monsters will run away and thus spare them precious hit points. It becomes much more of a resource management game than I'm used to thinking about, and the suggested narrative is actually more dramatic than the old gray pink box usually gets credit for, in that you're supposed to go into the lair and slay Grendel and his mother, not every goddamn rat in the cave and Grendel and his mother and the poor crazy Dane down the well. It's actually noteworthy how closely CRPGs emulate this, in retrospect.
  • Random treasure was fun. I can see it getting frustrating over the long-term if you somehow end up as "that guy" and always dice the least possible treasure rewards, but it was fun to laugh about in this short, controlled session.

Some lowlights:

  • Mapping and movement. My fault.
  • Not enough distinguished the PCs from one another. The magic-user was effectively a fighter after using his trick. The dwarf was a fighter. In fact, given the old-school way in which we rolled characters, the players were statistically most likely to roll fighters, because they might be unable to qualify for anything else.
  • The monsters felt too similar to one another. Obviously, this changes past first level, but the only things really distinguishing goblins from skeletons were a single hit point and no morale.
  • Playing purely randomly was fun, but didn't really scratch that campaign or "amateur thespian" itch. Again, this all occurred in a very short window, but I wanted to feel more like an actual story was taking place and not just a loose paragraph of justification tossed in at the opening of the action. Character progression, NPCs, meeting a "named" antagonist, etc., all would have contributed to this, but such a short session, while evocative of the overall gaming experience, didn't really have enough of a chance to blossom in my imagination as greatly as I would have enjoyed. This isn't a failing of the game, necessarily, but it does indicate that this isn't an endeavor to be casually undertaken. You have to invest in the fun and let the feeling flourish.