In Which The Warlock Summons a Supplemental Elemental...

People often wonder how I come up with such weird things for my games.  I'm known for something of a twisted imagination--just take a look my contributions on "Flying Polyps" in my work on The Mythos Dossiers for "The Laundry".  When I pitched the idea of "sentient f***ing cancer!" to my fellow writers, I could almost hear the jaws hitting the floor. 

But, I readily admit:  like any other writer or GM, I look for inspirational material all of the time.  So, you want to see where my ideas come from?  Here's a sample!

Serene Knowledge

• This site's fantastic, and full of creepy ideas suitable for any modern and even most fantasy style of games.  When I was running "Shadows of the Cold War" at Wittenberg, I pulled a good deal of the Cthulhian themes from this site.  The series at the end, "The Holders of X" can make for a fantastic campaign on its own.

The SCP Foundation

• Another great site for horror links, this one is essentially Warehouse 23 cranked up to 11!  While the information in these links ranges from the absurdly humorous to the outright terrifying, this site makes for great fodder for any modern game.  Running "The Laundry", "Delta Green", or "Dark Matter"?  You need to visit this site NOW.

Unused Lovecraft Story Hooks

• Want to really build up the fear?  Why not work with the ideas of the master himself?  These ideas come from a recently (as of 2011) discovered chapbook of Lovecraft's.  While some of the ideas he's obviously used, the vast majority are fresh and ripe for the picking.  The "one line" elements like "For has not Nature, too, her grotesques—the rent rock, the distorting lights of evening on lonely roads, the unveiled structure of man in the embryo, or the skeleton?" provide for great bits of inspiration on their own, even for a non-Lovecraftian game!

Seventh Sanctum

• One of the things that trip me up constantly is the search for the right name.  It's something I've always struggled with, whether writing or GMing.  However, Seventh Sanctum provides tons of names at the mere click of a mouse.  Not happy with the selections so far?  Click again...and again...and again.  Then, a few hours later, you might get back to writing! 

Creative Writing Prompts

• Working on writing daily or journal-style writing?  I use this site with my students for 2-3 times weekly writing assignments.  With 340-odd prompts, ranging throughout fiction and non-fiction, this'll keep you busy for a while.  For an added challenge, try writing all of them from a single perspective--maybe a character you've been working with or arounds a single, central theme.

In Which The Warlock Mulls Analysis Paralysis...

We have something of a running joke in amongst my gaming/social circle:  the "Karl-o-meter".  You see, my good friend ChaoticKarl tends to take his sweet time when we're playing board games.  Karl's a very mathematical fellow, and (despite my monniker for him) likes to use logic in his moves...which doesn't always work, once the highly unpredictable human element is factored in.  It reached a point once where we literally forced Karl to use an egg timer on his turns, automatically moving on if he hadn't moved before the timer ran out.

The thing that held Karl up so often usually was the sheer number of choices in a game.  Do I move move my piece here or there?  Do I build up this skill/tech-tree or another?  Do I hold my resources?  Do I trade?  Do I purchase now?  Do I use the power-up or save it for later? 

Opportunity cost is a funny thing.  It's so fundamentally critical to game theory and the formation of a good game, but the inclusion of additional opportunities seem to increase the complexity in an almost exponential manner.

Look at all the fiddly-bits! 
So many options!  So many choices!
So much...reading.  :(

It makes me wonder, similarly, about the amount of opportunities in role-playing games today.  The so-called "Old-School Renaissance" has been advocating a return to simpler rules-sets--no power cards, no fiddly-bits, no gimmicks or the like--as a return to "real" role-playing.  Simultaneously, though, we've seen the rise of high-complexity, high fiddly-bit games like 4e D&D and Warhammer Fantasy. 

In some ways, I can equate it to this:

When 4e just came out and your 2nd level Fighter, "The Mighty Jim-Bob," leveled up, he had approximately four options for his 3rd level encounter power.  After a few months, Martial Power came out, doubling those options.  After another month, a Dragon article raised your options to 10.  After four years of sourcebooks, articles, and fan-creations...well, you can imagine the choices!

More options can be good, but each decision--meaningful or not!--slows down gameplay and character creation on a massive scale.  The more options one has in front of them, the more likely that they'll consider each of those options, grinding the game to a halt.

Now, here's the weird thing.  The answer seems to be...less options!

You see, when you take away the power options, the feat choices, the skill points and the rest...you're left with pure imagination.  Now, that's a double-edged sword, since it relies on both player and GM to fill in the details each and every time which, needless to say, is an onerous task!

Minimalist, indeed!

Call of Cthulhu may, in fact, be a perfect example of this minimalist economy.  There are no rules for how many actions a character gets in a round, no power choices, no feats....simply a player saying "I do X" and a GM adjucating that action, occasionally using a handful of abstract stats or skills.  But, for all its wonderful storytelling capacity, a good Call of Cthulhu game hinges on its players buying into the mood and atmosphere created by the GM's narration.  Without a willingness to experiment in a "box-less environment," the game quickly becomes a matter of going through the motions or, more likely, simply falls apart.

As with all things, balance seems to be key.  As a designer, how does one find the balance between over-designing a system, making it overly complex, and under-designing that same system, resulting in vagueness and lack of structure?! 

How does one avoid the dreaded Kotov Syndrome?!

In Which The Warlock Extrapolates on the Epic...

So, in the words of comedian Dennis Miller, "I don't want to go off on a rant here, but..."

...Yeah.  It's time to whip out my weekly Two-Minutes' Hate for Mr. Monte Cook once more.

You see, Wizards of the Coast's latest editorial-flavored travesty has Mr. Cook expounding on the perceived perils of epic-level play.  And, as you can imagine by my opening, I don't exactly agree with Cook's ideas or the conclusions that he draws from them.

Cook's article starts off with a disagreement with what's been one of most common complaints about D&D for years:  the fact that games break down during high-level play.  Cook attributes this to the shifts between tiers of play--something that he admits that 4e dealt with well--but then shifts the blame for the problems back onto the player-base.  At the risk of being accused of reductio ad absurdum, that's like telling a rape victim that it was their fault for walking in a dark neighborhood or telling a burglary victim that they shouldn't have had that big tv in their front room...

Cook continues to antagonize the player base by claiming:"the people that say that the game breaks down at such-and-such level are self-defining themselves as people who don't care for high-level play..." (which he follows with the apologetic "...which is fine, of course").  The issue with this is that many people would enjoy high-level play if more support were included in game material and if the mechanical end of the game held up appropriately.  There simply aren't enough adventures, source material, or GMing advice for a GM to look at running a long-term epic level game.

One of the best games I've ever played--Callon's Dark Tower-themed 3.5e game--was an epic level game.  The game was epic in feel--my paladin had built a demiplane-sized cathedral to my god--as well as in statistics.  We were told to bring level 30 characters to the party, and were similarly equipped.  For Cook to brashly insinuate my own preferences regarding high-level play simply because there's I believe the game breaks down is not only fallacious, but also insulting as a would-be player (and purchaser!). 

Let me put some evidence on the table, before I continue.  The default 4e character sheet right now is a mere two pages.  However, that character sheet only includes the names of each of a characters' powers, and nothing more.  In order to actually play the game, that character sheet must also include power cards.  At level 1, those cards easily fit onto one page--a three page character sheet, while longer than most games, is still not unreasonable.  However, at level 21, those cards--necessities for play, mind you--can take up not one page, but 5 additional pages!  When running the "Day of Dagon" one-shot, characters averaged 9-page character sheets!  That's insane!  Mechanically speaking, that's a disaster.

Yes, I get that he's a Demon Lord.
Three pages of stat block is STILL too much!

This wasn't simply relegated to PCs, nor was it unique to 4e!  The entire reason that I switched away from 3e/3.5e in the first place was my issue with GMing the game at upper levels.  In the final issue of Dungeon, Demogorgon served as the culminating boss of a year-long adventure path.  Demogorgon's stat block?  Three full pages of size 8 text!  Absurd!  That's a huge issue which no one can ignore.

To say that there's not a problem with this--to say that there's not an issue with a game that requires 10 pages of details for every player to keep up on--is outright erroneous!  There's such a thing as too many options and, at high level in 4e, these options bordered the insane.  Let's do some math here:  as a 30th level character has at minimum 4 encounter powers, 2 at-will powers, 4 daily powers, and 7 utility powers.  That's two full pages of power-cards right there.  Add in a smattering of magic items, as well a minimum of 18 feats, and one easily has a character that's simply too complex to play as a one-shot character.  That was the biggest issue we ran into, and was one that still has no solution.

Complexity is a funny thing.  While everyone loves to see their "numbers" increase, while everyone loves to get their hands on an awesome magic item, there simply has to be moderation.  Yes, feats are great.  They've been replicated over and over in games since 3e.  But when you have 18 of them?  That's simply too much.  Yes, magic items are great.  But when you're "expected" to have certain items at each level, each of which brings their own powers and quirks to the table, it's too much to deal with.

While I'd say that Savage Worlds has done well with keeping high-level play in balance with that of low-level play, even this game isn't immune.  High-level NPCs often have feats listed, but no further information, which makes their options almost moot--either the GM must slow down the game to look up necessary information or it must be ignored.  Even a GM with a great memory has more than enough to do without worrying about such issues!

As it stands now, I don't think I'd want to run an 'epic-level' game in any sense, despite for the fact that I love plane-hopping, interdimensional adventures.  The sheer lack of support for such a game, as well as the problematic at-the-table issues prevent me from actively pursuing this.

What's frustrating more, though?  The fact that the man in charge of the newest incarnation...seems to be utterly oblivious to these problems.  And that?  That's inexcusable.

In Which The Warlock Comments on Comments and Consensus...

I've been lucky enough to have some great comments on my blog posts thusfar, coming from both my gamer-friends throughout the Miami Valley as well as gamers all over the globe.  But, my audience is still fairly small--no big deal, really:  I enjoy blogging for its own sake, and a small audience allows me to personally reply to any comments that I procure.

But, sometimes that little comment box isn't enough and, lo and behold, DigitalKat has dropped a bomb on me that really needs its own entry.  In response to my last entry on the exploits of my Friday night group's exploits in the Weird West, she mentioned:

My only observation would be that, having taken all the shooty fun skills, is that not the game they wanted to be playing, and not the gang rivalry one? Granted, throwing them a curveball every now and again keeps them on their toes, but when you make a party full of courtiers and throw them in a battlezone, or a party full of a warriors and put them in a palace, are you running the game you want to play, or the game they wanted?

Truth be told, this is a subject of some contention throughout gaming!  DigitalKat, in fact, tackled this subject herself in an earlier entry, but found herself in the same predicament I find myself in now. 

GMing a game, as I'm sure that many would agree, is a method of storytelling that's far outside the norm.  While writing a novel or filming a movie allows for a significant amount of directorial/authorial control, the amount of control held by a GM is...well, limited, at best.  The other players' actions, the improvisational nature of the game, and even sheer luck itself create for dictates that simply do not exist in other media.

The posse's ride...in Davy Jones' Locker!

Case in point:  in our last session of Deadlands: The Flood, our posse's escape route--one of Big Ears Tam's ironclads--was blown up, after the posse were discovered in Warlord Kwan's island citadel.  I had anticipated (and done most of my weekly prep assuming...) that the posse would try to sneak into the docks and steal a ship to get back to Shan Fan.  My posse, however, decided to row around the mesa, trying to find a place to hole up for the night while the search blew over.  While the PlatinumChick's shamaness warned the group against "natural hazards" of doing so, the group was insistent, searching the sea-caves for a spot to bed down. 

Thinking quickly, I checked the encounter table for the Great Maze and flipped a card--Black Joker!  A mighty Maze Dragon!  Immediately, I started dealing out cards, but the PlatinumChick had other ideas...she hoped to distract the Maze Dragon into attacking Kwan's citadel!  But, while her plans succeeded at first, the dice had their say:  Snake Eyes! 

The story being told in our game could not have been told with any single element--player, GM, or chance--but rather, emerges as a strange amalgamation of consensus.  While every person at the table may not necessarily advocate a given choice, the understood social contract of the table leads to consent for these story elements to take place.  While the PlatinumChick might not have been happy to roll snake eyes--and was certainly less happy with what I ruled about that fateful roll--she was willing to let the story continue.

There's a difference between "unanimity" and "consensus".  While everyone would surely love to game with people that share their personal interests in what they want out of a game, people are simply too different for that to be entirely feasible.  Achieving a "unanimous" decision on what type of game to run is just...not something one should expect.  But, there are going to be similarities and trends between what players like!  Making sure that everyone enjoys the game and has the ability to contribute equally provides consensus. 

Relying on those trends and those common elements provide a start for story-building.  Our group decided to play Deadlands because of a common interest in the setting.  I certainly have players more interested in role-play, while others are more interested in the setting, and still others in the mechanics.  All are fine, but we achieve balance between all three by enabling collective storytelling.  Plus, we find new interests, new combinations, and new likes and dislikes each time we play.

Constructivist Educational Theory:
The Zone of Proximal Development!

In the constructivist theory teaching, there's a term for this concept:  the Zone of Proximal Development.  When a child learns, there's a "sweet spot"--an area lying in between what a student is capable of performing on their own and material outside of their comfort zone.  In this zone--the aforementioned ZPD--the student requires additional reinforcement, guidance, and practice to achieve the stated goals of the curriculum.  A teacher in the constructivist philosophy does their best to push the boundaries of the ZPD each day, providing reinforcement and support as necessary to expand the student's "comfort zone".

In gaming, we do much the same.  While each of us certainly have our own preferences, we push outside to include other elements, introducing elements to the story that not only make them enjoyable to that player, but also introducing others to elements that they may not have considered or thought interesting previously.

That's the advantage that gamemastery has over other forms of storytelling--by providing collaborative elements through GM, through players, and through pure chance--gamemastery allows us to challenge our own wants, interests, desires, and even our own perceptions of plot, characterization, genre, and story.  That's heady stuff, right there!  And, that's worth doing...

In Which The Warlock Pushes Player Possibilities...

As I mentioned a few posts ago, my players are somewhat up to their eyeballs in plot hooks in our Friday night Deadlands game.  But, as my players are slowly finding out, it seems that those plot hooks really seem to be playing into their weaknesses.

You see, in amongst the major plot points of The Flood, there are two major background events:  an attempted invasion of California from Mexico--which I've hinted at and foreshadowed, but not really pushed as a major point--and a coming conflict between the rival Chinese triads around Shan Fan.  After becoming involved with Big Ears Tam so early on in the campaign, my players have become well and truly embroiled in the conflict, particularly ChaoticFrederick's scrapper, Mary-Ellen Hardigan, who's best known as Tam's "delicate little lotus blossom".

The results of the PCs'
actions on Dragon Breath Mesa.

However, when Tam asked Mary-Ellen and the group to investigate a potential alliance between Kang, the ruthless railroad baron of Iron Dragon Railways, and Warlord Kwan of Kwan Province.  Unfortunately for our posse, a few botched stealth rolls totally eliminated any chance of escaping unscathed.  While the party was able to escape the citadel with the information they needed--mainly due to the Byzantine decorum of the Chinese mob--their ride home out of the maze exploded before their very eyes!  And worse, the explosion awoke a nearby Maze Dragon on an adjacent mesa!  Eep!

While the posse managed to drive off the dragon--not before Chris II's hexslinger, Angus Cole, picked up a few more scars to go with his already-marred face--the real danger was returning to Big Ears Tam with the news that the mission had been compromised...

...something Tam already knew, after his ironclad failed to return...and after Kwan's ancestral daisho went missing.

Needless to say, Tam was infuriated.  While FridayNightWill was astute enough to hide the stolen daisho, Tam not-so-subtly indicated that the insult required vengeance...

...they done messed up good!

And this leaves our players in a bit of a bind.  You see, the majority of my players have focused on only a small set of skills.  Fighting, Shooting, Notice, etc. are all common, but nearly every party member in the posse seems to have some kind of social faux-pas.  And few, if any, have invested in the social skills--Persuasion, Intimidate, Streetwise, and the like. 

So, my party has found themselves in a bit of a predicament.  How do you settle the highly-delicate social balance between Chinese warlords, when you can't really talk your way out of a paper bag?

This portion really pushes the challenge level up on two fronts:  as characters, but also as players.  You see, as characters, the posse simply isn't equipped for the situation.  Their funds are running low--primiarly because they've had to keep their steam wagon fueled up and ready to go--and they simply don't have the social acumen to run "in the big leagues". 

As players, however, the challenge intensifies.  Players have to invest more bennies and the like into succeeding at tasks that a more-socially apt character might find easy.  But, just as they do this, the players have to find ways to adapt the situation to one more suitable to their own, whether through a convoluted plan or through some other means.  Needless to say, that's hard! 

So, going into next week's session, my posse is faced with some tough choices to make.  They're slowly coming up with a plan, involving implicating the enigmatic Ramirez in the theft of the daisho and peeling apart the alliance between Kang and Kwan, based on the actions of so-called "Emperor" Norton.  Time will only tell if they can succeed...and if they can get back to what really matters:  taking down Reverend Grimme!

In Which The Warlock Has a Love-Hate Relationship...

It's been a while since I've done one of these, but I figured that it's about high time that I return to the RPG Blog Carnival.  This month's topic, hosted over at Nevermet Press, is "Things to Love, Things to Hate"--essentially, what do you (as a GM or as a player) look for in an RPG, an adventure, a system, etc.

So, take a gander at my personal perks and gripes when looking at games:

Perks:

• I love a game system that attempts to echo the genre being played. 
• My favorite part about Deadlands is the fact that the cards-based initiative, the use of poker-chips, and the dueling/gambling mechanics push the idea of the Wild West, "gamblin' man" action.  Similarly, with WEGS, the use of poker chips enforces the idea of an adventurer "gambling with their fate".  ICONS uses the FATE mechanics to emphasize in-character actions and Determination points to encourage over-the-top action and power stunting.  All of these mechanics are built to better emulate the genre of game being played, and do so admirably, filling holes that a generic system simply can't do.
• I love a game that facilitates ease (and speed) of play.
• While I can give or take "fiddly-bits," I run far too many convention games to rely on them regularly.  Maps, dungeon tiles, miniatures and the like take up far too much room for my taste, and often slow down the pace of a game.  This takes away from investigation and fast-paced action, as people fiddle with movement rules or cover mechanics. 
• I love an adventure with awesome set-piece locations.



The Warlock's favorite adventure!

• My favorite adventure of all time is the wacky, fun-house dungeon crawl known as "White Plume Mountain".  It's not a particularly well-written adventure, but my goodness, the locations!  A fight above a boiling mud pit, with swinging platforms suspended by chains from the ceiling?!  A semi-permeable bubble of water?!  An enchanted-freaking-water-slide?!  Sheer unadulterated awesome!  Without locations like this, the adventure would be nothing more than a fetch quest, but these put it way over the top.
• I love an adventure with multiple, conditional endings.
• One of the things I was happiest about when writing "Westbound on the San Juan Express" was the multiple scenarios that could unfold.  Depending on whom the posse supports, the PCs could end up in any of 6 potential end-game scenarios, none of which resulted in a TPK or any sort of "loss".  That's a rarity to find, but it makes for sheer, unadulterated awesome! 
• I love it my players have too many PCs they want to play.
• You know how I know when I've picked the right game to run?  When my Friday night group starts planning out characters over and over again, and have trouble deciding what they actually want to play.  Too much inspiration is never a bad thing!

Gripes:

• I hate when a game tries to do too much. 
• This was my biggest issue while reading through Lost Colony, the Deadlands sequel game.  While the system mechanics for Deadlands worked for the base game and for Hell on Earth, Lost Colony seemed to drop much of the horror of its predecessors in favor of introducing sci-fi colonial action.  Already a packed setting, it just did...well, too much.  Lack of support certainly didn't help it, but Lost Colony definitely felt like a game stretched too thin.
• I hate it when a game tries to reinvent the wheel...and gets run over by said wheel.
• Wild Talents was my biggest offender here.  I picked it up at Half Price Books, while doing research for Cold Steel Wardens.  The "width vs. height" mechanic used in the game was particularly innovative...but the game (and the NPCs within it) became so wrapped up in numerics and modifiers that the core game--a dystopian superheroes game--became utterly lost in a sea of numbers.  That's anti-fun in a nutshell.
• I hate it when an adventure stacks the deck.
• Ever have this happen to you in an adventure:  your heroes are fighting bandits in their own lair, which is full of nasty traps--caltrops, deadfalls, etc., none of which ever seem to affect them, even when you deliberately try to turn the tables?  That's a sure sign of poor adventure writing and inflexible gamemastery.  While occasionally such things make sense--fire elementals being immune to environmental hazards in a lava realm, for example--but under normal circumstances, there's no excuse for this poor design.
• I hate it when adventures "settle".



Warning!  King in Yellow ahead!

• There's a fine line between providing an adventure "suitable" to a genre's idiom and becoming utterly predictable.  Start hearing word about a strange play and a "yellow sign"?  Yeah, it's Hastur again.  While there might be investigation and conflict, it's simply a matter of going through the motions.  The drama, the challenge...it's gone.  Why bother?
•    I hate it when players don't give me anything to work with...then complain about it.
• GMing is hard work.  It's a lot of prep, and it's a lot of writing.  If I'm asking you, as a player, for a background, that means that I need your help in contributing to the world and to have an active investment in it.  It means that I want to engage you as both a player and a character.  And, when you reject that?  Yeah...that sends a pretty strong message that you don't really care about playing.

How about you guys?  Other thoughts?  Am I off-base?

In Which The Warlock Mulls Some Problem Players...

This past weekend, I was lucky enough to throw down some ICONS for the WittKids, as part of their Friday Night one-shot series.  In the midst of working on a ton of writing for Cubicle 7 on another book for The Laundry, I managed to cobble together a new adventure.  In true Silver Age fashion, I decided to give our heroes a great Nazi-punchin' time!

Ek Balaam--the lost city of Dr. Arrington's desire!

The premise?  Famed University of Miami anthropologist Dr. Anthony Arrington has gone missing, seeking out a series of undiscovered Olmec ruins in the jungles of the Yucatan.  But, as the heroes arrive at his dig site, they find it being trashed by men in SS uniforms! 

I wanted to make this adventure really over the top, including some great challenges for the PCs.  One of the ways I did so was through vehicles--the Nazis arrived on scene in the first chapter of the adventure riding on bulldozers, crashing through the underbrush and directly into two of the PCs!  I won't spoil the adventure, as I may be running it at FOPCon this time around since their theme is superheroes, but it ended with a fantastic airboat crash in the middle of a huge swamp.  Epic stuff!

However, the game wasn't without a few nitpicks.  While I had planned on using my pre-built supers group--The Huntsmen--I ended up with 8 players at the table:  two more players than I had Huntsmen!  Not wanting to turn anyone away, The Journeyman GM and the PlatinumChick rolled up random PCs, and we rolled with 8 players at the table.

Therein lay my biggest problems. 

You see, friends and neighbors, I ended up with two players in amongst those 8 that just Did.  Not.  Get.  It.  And, while it didn't "ruin" the game by any stretch, it did make GMing fairly difficult, as I tried to keep the rest of the group on track.

ICONS--a four-color system...
...but with grim 'n gritty players?

ICONS, as you may know, is a game very much styled after the four-color action of the Silver Age of Comics.  As such, certain things hold true:  real heroes don't use guns, heroes don't kill, and villains monologue before the battle is joined.  Player one, however--let's call him Bill--just did not get this idea.  Despite the fact that he could fling sonic energy from his fingertips, he continually wanted to loot Nazi assault rifles and pass them out to the party as sidearms.  As I was narrating through Doktor Schumann's monologue, Bill continually interrupted with what he wanted to do, often talking over other players to do so.  Twice, I had to stop halfway through the narration and ask him to stop....which he actively resented, complaining loudly to the rest of the group. 

As a GM, I felt I had an obligation to act, so as I mentioned, I asked him to stop--he had been talking over one of the players at the far end of the table, who literally was raising her hand, trying to get my attention.  It wasn't fair to her--or to the rest of the table, for that matter--for him to take up the limelight.  Further, his actions were actively obstructing the advancement of the plot! 

Unfortunately, that wasn't the only issue.  Again, as you may know, ICONS is a free-form, narrative system which uses a riff on the FATE mechanics to focus on character development and over-the-top stunts.  But, a second player--let's call him Jim Bob--took some issue with this idea.  I've gamed with Jim Bob before, and his leanings definitely skew towards more tactical games.  Jim Bob complained loudly about the fact that we weren't using a battle mat for combat, instead relying on imagination and GM description.  Eventually, I relented, scratching a brief map on the room's white-board, but even that wasn't enough for him.  He wanted precise detail in a game that not only doesn't focus on it, but doesn't even have true "ranges" or the like.  He wanted something from the game that I simply couldn't give.

Jim Bob also just didn't get the idea of his character's Aspects and Qualities.  He decided to play the Huntsmens' stealth and infiltration expert, yet began the game roaming about Playa del Carmen wearing an oversized sombrero, even trying to sneak around with it on!  He claimed that the "Sarcastic Joker" on his character sheet prompted him to do this, but actively ignored every other Aspect or Quality on the sheet in doing so.  Similarly, where others attempted to use their Aspects and Qualities to refine their actions--primarily through the use of Determination, by power stunting or using determined effort--Jim Bob really didn't do so. 

I'm not posting this to rag on the WittKids by any stretch of the imagination.  While I was frustrated at the time, it seemed that most everyone at the table--these two included--had a good time with the game.  However, I raise these issues as a question:  if these two were at your table, how would you adjust your GMing for the circumstance?  I'm hesitant to say "deal with them", simply because they're people--they shouldn't just be "dealt with". 

How do you, as a GM, alter the situation to better accomodate (or censure) actions detrimental to the game?

In Which The Warlock Leaves Some Plot Hooks Unattended...

Well, friends and neighbors, it's appearing more and more that our The Flood campaign will be racing towards its conclusion by the time that spring rolls around.  Our posse has but 4 glyphs to find in order to bring about the climactic end to this Deadlands excursion.  But, that doesn't mean we're close to being done.

The object of Jayne Cobb's desire...

You see, my Friday night group's been slowly sinking deeper and deeper into a heap of trouble.  Their continual dealings with Big Ears Tam in Shan Fan--specifically his "delicate little lotus blossom," the cybernetic scrapper Mary Ellen Hardigan--have earned them the enmity of pretty much everyone in Kwan Province, the employees of Iron Dragon, and quite a few others.  And, now that the group has agreed to take on a spy mission for Tam, Emperor Norton and Warlord Kwan might just have their revenge for the loss of the Abysmal!

But, that's not all.  After FridayNightWill's possession in Jehosephat Cemetary, the spirit in his head has begun communicating with him in most interesting ways.  With a great roll to scope out the goings-on in Kwan's castle, Jayne Cobb got a great glimpse of Kwan's ancestral daisho...which, after Cobb's vision fuzzed out and the spirit took control, glowed with an intense arcane aura.  Needless to say, his eyes nearly bugged out of his head!

The mysterious Ramirez, perhaps?

And that's not all our good buddy Will saw.  Rather, they caught a glimpse of a truly enigmatic figure.  You see, back when the posse first managed to meet Big Ears Tam, the group ended up being embroiled in a huge underground 'kumite'--a martial arts tournament held by a ruthless dojo.  Mary Ellen, of course, represented Tam.  However, the rest of the group spent quite a bit of time roaming about the stadium, placing bets and scoping out the fighters.  One of them, particularly, stood out...a fencer known on the stadium-sheets as Ramirez.  Ramirez had won several rounds, advancing to the quarter-finals....only to utterly disappear.

Naturally, the mystery man Ramirez made another appearance at Kwan's little soiree, much to everyone's shock.

Yet the mysteries keep piling up.  Who are the Children of Hasteli?  Where's that final glyph, which the party can't seem to find?  Why is there a Hechler & Koch MP5 in Master Antiquarian Wu's shop?  And, what's the deal with Eddie, the totally-unharmed man that the party found in Rock Island Prison?

Needless to say, there's a lot still to come! 

In Which The Warlock Has Too Much Plated...

Sorry, but it's a short entry this time, fellow gamers.

I've been staring at a computer screen all weekend, working on a pretty large segment on an upcoming book for The Laundry:  tentatively titled "Cultists Under the Bed". 

Because of this, I'll save the bigger details on what's been going on in The Flood, as well as what else I've been working on for the mid-week entry.  For now, you'll just have to be sated with my upcoming convention schedule for 2012!

In Which The Warlock Mulls a Manifesto...

Once again, my compadre at The JourneymanGM has stumbled upon something of particular interest.  This time, it's a Reddit page, entitled "My Gamemaster Manifesto".  Essentially, each manifesto is a series of pledges or promises each makes to their players, as part of the game's fundamental social contract.

A fair amount of these elements are very similar to one another, or are the sort of things that simply go without saying for me.  In other cases, the statements are simply impossible to guarantee, making a guarantee less than worthless.  Saying "I will provide a story with a beginning, a middle, and an end" or "I pledge to create a game that is fun for both myself and all players at the table".

So, given those caveats, here's my own list...with a few items that deviate a bit from the norm.

1.  I pledge to challenge you as a player and as a character while at the game-table. 
When I run a game, I intend to challenge the interests, the desires, the strengths and the weaknesses of your character, but also those of you as a player.  Whether that means taking advantage of character flaws on your character sheet or pushing your own tendencies as a player, I will not be complacent in challenging you during the course of the game.

2.  I will help you play the character you want to play.
Your character is your purview and, barring certain occasions befitting the plot, you are the final arbiter of what goes on your character sheet.  If I am running a game, it's because I feel that I have a degree of system-mastery over that game.  Further, your character is a primary player in the grander plot.  If you are having difficulty with either portion, I will offer unbiased, honest feedback on how to approach your character.  However, the final decision as to any character changes belongs to you as a player.

3.  I will make the game as interesting and accessible to all members of the table as possible.
Fun is subjective.  I can't make you have fun.  What I can do is make the game accessible and active, which makes it more likely that you will have fun.  What we do at the table may not be to your taste.  If that's the case, you're welcome to bow out.  However, I intend to make our shared storyline interesting to you and accessible to someone not necessarily a fan of the given genre conventions.

4.  I pledge to be true to the given genre.
If I'm running a horror game, you should expect cults, creeping monstrosities, and ancient terrors.  If I'm running a steampunk game, you should expect airships and mad science.  This is true for both my own creations and for those brought to the table by others.  I will be vigilant in maintaining a truth-in-genre for all of my games.

5.  I will bring something new to the table each session.
I will not be complacent as a GameMaster, and will challenge myself with each session that we have.  I will not rely on 'old tricks' or previously-used techniques simply because they worked once, but rather will refine and hone my technique with each game, each plotline, and each session that we share.  Gaming evolves, and so shall I.

6.  I will call attention to the positive and the negative.
When you (as both a character and as a player) do something cool, you will receive the attention and adulation deserved.  You deserve the opportunity to shine.  If the inverse is true, I will speak up, so that the offending behavior/tactic/what-have-you is not repeated.  I will not be content to sit back or be passive-agressive in my dealings with you, simply to have another player at the table.

7.  I will be open to feedback and will be easily accessible.
Gamemastery is a form of writing--a specialized and shared form of writing, but writing nevertheless.  Writing cannot take place without revision.  I will listen openly and share honestly about my design and development process and take thoughtful feedback under deep consideration. 

Thoughts?  Additions?  Subtractions?  What do you think?

In Which The Warlock Contemplates Some Criticism...

A few posts ago, you might remember my review of Dragon Age: Origins, which I finished over the holiday break (after only a year of having it sit on my shelf!).  Well, what you didn't see is my Facebook feed, which absolutely lit up with anti-recommendations when I mentioned my eagerness to pick up the sequel, Dragon Age II. Apparently, many of my acquaintances and the like were only the tip of the iceberg.  In fact, the negative reviews for DA2 seemed to outstrip the positive ones by far!

Call it stubbornness.  Call it a determination to go my own way.  Call it raw curiosity.  I bought DA2 anyway. 

And, you know what?  I greatly prefer Dragon Age II to its predecessor, as it made significant improvements in nearly every aspect of both game, characterization and story.

But, before I begin my diatribe, let me just put this here:  SPOILERS AHEAD!  BEWARE!

My biggest problem with the original Dragon Age was its generic storyline.  From the very start, your character was the last of the Grey Wardens, attempting to unite the sterotypically fractions factions of elves, mages, and dwarves against a tyrannical usurper and an incoming totally-not-orcs horde.  the story could have been easily written by a 12-year-old Dragonlance fan, with only a few stand-out questlines where the story shines.



Varric, telling his story to the Inquisitor...

Dragon Age II rectifies this beautifully by tightening up the narrative structure.  While the idea of the epic, world-spanning quest in DA: O is good in theory, in reality it's just unwieldy.  The narrative of DA2 is told through the words of Varric Tethras, one of your characters' companions.  However, the vast majority of the action in DA2 takes place in Kirkwall, a city in the Free Marches, to which your family has just migrated from fallen Lothering--a locale from the first game.  Destitute and looking for work, your main character finds themselves making a name for themselves by attempting to become a partner in an expedition to a dwarven ruin. 

However, following various twists and turns, the main character finds themselves in the midst of a city rife with its own problems.  A delegation of the militant Qunari have taken up residence in the city, gangs roam the night, and the Circle of Magi have been butting heads with their Templar and Chantry overseers.  Hawke (the main character) and their band of motley adventurers quickly find themselves in over their heads, confronted with a coming conflict that none seem to be able to prevent...but more on that later.

One of the biggest improvements DA2 made came in graphics, particularly backgrounds.  Often, the backgrounds in DA: O were fuzzy or undefined, and they definitely showed their age, as a game from nearly 5 years ago.  But, worst of all, they felt stock and generic. 

The Wounded Coast--one of the most gorgeous areas
in Dragon Age II!

In DA2, however, the backgrounds and setting is used to its utmost.  Each district of Kirkwall has its own feel and theme, from the posh gardens surrounding the Chantry Courtyard in Hightown to the dingy, unkempt slums in Darktown.  Each area has its own design and attitude, which makes the city feel like a living, active place.  It becomes easy to tell where you are as you navigate through the city by night or day, simply by landmarks and background elements.  The view out over the sea when in the Wounded Coast area simply has no parallel--it's a beautiful, visually stunning area, which made my jaw drop for the first time since reaching the Arreat Summit in Diablo II.

Similarly, combat is much improved in DA2.  While the traditional classes of warrior-rogue-mage return, the classes are able to interact through "cross-class combos" that provide additional damage or benefits.  For example, if a mage casts Winter's Blast, the target may become frozen, which allows a warrior to deal higher damage.  Similarly, if that warrior uses a Shield Bash, the target is knocked off-balance, allowing a rogue to take advantage.  With the party AI greatly enhanced--coupled with 20-odd customizable tactics slots available for each party member--it's easy to take advantage of these ability combinations. 

While the game suffers slightly with combats that perhaps run too long, and the "wave" mechanic of dropping additional baddies into a scrum grows a little tiresome, I didn't find myself bored with combat as I did in DA: O.  Previously, I simply mowed everything down while my party mopped up behind me.  In DA2, I felt active and involved, choosing high-priority targets and hunting them down, alternating control of my character with those in my party:  Varric (a surface-dwelling "legitimate businessman"), Isabela (a ship-less lusty swashbuckler), and Merrill (my love-interest, an apostate elven mage).  I always felt like I had something to do, or some new strategy to try.  Plus, the game removed much of the "equipment-juggling" that tends to overcomplicate and clutter many party-based role-playing games, which was a much needed design choice.

My favorite portion of this game, however, comes in one simple piece of understanding, which many critics and even fans seem to have overlooked:  the story of Dragon Age II is a tragedy, not a heroic epic. 

Under the framing narrative of Varric telling the story of "The Champion of Kirkwall" to a Chantry interrogator, Varric's tone throughout the cut scenes is one of loss, wistfulness, and memories of "better times".  And, why shouldn't he feel this way?  Nearly everything that Hawke and his companions build up over the course of the 7 years together in Kirkwall comes crashing down, as their own actions spiral out of control.

The result of all Hawke's works...up in flames...

Case in point:  Varric himself.  Hawke, Varric and the rest are betrayed by Varric's brother at the end of Act I.  When Varric's brother resurfaces, he has gone insane, and Varric is forced to kill his own brother out of mercy.  But that's not all!  Merrill's pursuit of elven history costs her teacher's life, if not the lives of her entire clan.  The mine that Hawke invests in--giving hundreds of migrant Fereldans employment--is burned to the ground and destroyed.  Hawke's own mother is drawn in, then killed by a serial killer who escaped Hawke's investigation in years prior.  Anders, a mage companion, spouts rhetoric not heard outside of Malcolm X or Magneto, decrying the templar oppression from his Darktown clinic, all the while he plans a terrorist attack to start "the coming war". 

Hawke's story is one of loss, over and over again.  It's the story of the rise and fall of power in amongst a maelstrom of rival factions.  Throughout the game, I found my dialogue choices again and again trying to unite rival factions, even as they took up arms against one another.  However, I swiftly found a group of moderates--a group of nobles looking for someone to put on an empty throne, following the death of Viscount Dumar.  In a last-ditch effort, my Hawke threw her name in as a potential replacement...only to find that Anders' actions had brought about the very war that Hawke was about to prevent.

This!  This is tragedy!  This is drama!  This is the sort of storytelling that can elevate video games to that oft-mused category of "art". 

Yes, there are flaws.  As I mentioned, the continual waves in combat grow tiresome at times.  The various dungeon locales are repeated--albeit with some minor changes--fairly often.  And, it would have been nice to have more interaction with two of the major players--the head of the templars and the head of the magi circle--before Act III.  But with varied and interesting combat, spectacular visuals, and a story that breathes and revels in pathos, there's no comparison:  Dragon Age II far outstrips its predecessor.

In Which The Warlock Presents His Nefarious Plot...

Apologies for the slightly late entry, but I wanted to hold off until I actually sent off the e-mail to FridayNightWill with the fate of his gunslinger!

Take a gander!

As you drift in and out of consciousness, the shamaness' magic streams over you and through your mind. Images flash into your mind.

All you can hear, though, is the screaming: the wailing and gnashing of spectral teeth, ephemeral fingernails against a stone slab. Screaming, crying, begging, all you can remember is wanting to be free again.

You remember vividly who put you here. You remember the years spent in Rock Island Prison, facing torment after torment, at the hands of Grimme and his men. But you would not renounce your faith...you would not give in. That's when the butchers came, and flayed you alive. That's when they put you here...in this stone tomb.

You remember nothing from your life before. Your memories are hazy, and only come in fragments. You remember a great crowd, speaking before them and leading them across a vast waste. But aside from that? Simply faces in the mist...not even your own name.

 

 

Okay, that's the flavor text. Here's the meat.

 

 

Something (or someONE!) is living in your head now. A spirit from the graveyard is in your head, with its own motivations, ideas and desires. Above all else is vengeance, coupled with the mystery of who you really are...

 

 

Sometimes the mind acts on its own. When it does, it has a power you've never felt, coursing from some unseen source. Unfortunately, sometimes it wants control...and it knows how to get it.

 

 

Occasionally, I'll ask for an opposed Spirit test. You want to win these. Otherwise, you may find yourself in some dire straits!

 

 

Good luck!

In Which The Warlock Finds a New Way to Challenge a Player...

Now that our holiday festivities are over, we've finally gotten back in the swing of things with our weekly games out here.  "The Flood" has really started to heat up, as our posse have managed to track down a displaced group of Hopi and Apache Indians, calling themselves the "Necessity Alliance".  Believing that these natives could hold the key to stopping Reverend Grimme's reign of terror, the posse agreed to help find the shaman Sees-Far-Ahead, tracking him--in a rather grisly way:  the severed finger of the shamaness Born-in-a-Bowl--to the Jehosephat Valley overlooking the City of Lost Angels.

An image of Jehosephat Valley...in Jerusalem.
Still, not a nice place to be!

Jehosephat Valley, in the public's eye, is the "potters' field" for Lost Angels--those not of the faithful are buried here in tasteful, if austere, accomodations.

In reality, Jehosephat Valley is deadland.  As in:  Terror Level 6, "Bad Things Live Here" deadland.  In reality, it's where the bones from all of the victims of Grimme's Sunday-afternoon 'feasts' get discarded. 

After sneaking into the cemetary, the posse ran afoul of the Jehosephat minister...who swiftly recognized two of the group as wanted fugitives from Lost Angels, and leapt into action.  Fleeing the guards, deeper and deeper into the cemetary, as the sun refused to rise...the group saw it:  the living, charnel bone-piles discarded by Grimme's feasts.

Now, this is where FridayNightWill got himself into trouble.  You see, Born-in-a-Bowl's finger, still twitching and writhing, had freed itself from its box and began bounding along the path, deep into the charnel wastes....leading Will right into the path of some vicious bone fiends.

Separated from the group--the rest were fending off a legion of Guardian Angels--Will fell beneath the blows of the bone fiends, falling unconsious...

...and that's when it came to me.  You see, the bone fiends aren't the only denizens of the Jehosephat Valley graveyard.  Rather, there are quite a few errant spirits roaming the boneyard, and despite the fact that the PlatinumChick's shamaness managed to get Will back on his feet, there are going to be consequences for this one...but that will have to wait for our next session!

In Which The Warlock Totally Called It...

A few posts ago, you may recall The Journeyman GM and I making some predictions as per the potential of an upcoming edition of Dungeons and Dragons.

Well, lo and behold:  it looks like we were right.  In the latest "Legends and Lore" column, Mike Mearls officially outed the current development of a new edition of D&D.

As you can imagine, I'm not particularly surprised.  When Monte Cook came back on board and the 4e release schedule slowed to a crawl--much as it had at the end of 3.5e's run--it was fairly easy to tell that something was amiss over in Seattle.  When word started creeping in by other industry insiders, such as Margaret Weis, it's hard to deny that something isn't going on.

Honestly, I'm sort of looking forward to a new edition.  While I love many things about 4e--the rise of the non-caster character, archetypes such as the warlord getting their due, and the entire ritual system--I almost can't bring myself to play the game anymore.  The reliance on minis-based combat, the similar-feeling powers, and the labyrinthine character sheets (particularly in Paragon tier and beyond) just got to be too much.  When a character sheet hits 8 pages, there's simply too much to go through!

My biggest worry, however, is summed up best here:  in an article for the New York Times by Ethan Gilsdorf.

When 4e came out, the gamer market fractioned.  For over a year, Paizo's Pathfinder has either matched or outsold D&D, as disgruntled fans sought their fix elsewhere.  I've been a devoted D&D player since 7th grade, and I haven't touched the game since this past Origins.  Before that?  Almost six months prior.  Other games--which tend to have a longer shelf life, simpler rules, and faster play around the table--have attracted my attention.  I don't see that changing, to be honest.

It's been stated over and over in the few days since the new edition's announcement that the hope is for a "reunification" of the fractured gamer community.  I can only hope that this is going to be the case...

In Which The Warlock Ends an Age...

As I've mentioned a few times over the past few entries, I finally managed to play through Dragon Age: Origins--the BioWare-developed fantasy opus, billed as a spiritual successor to my beloved Baldur's Gate series, which I still have installed on my laptop.

I've been hesitant to write a review for DA: O, though, because my feelings towards the game have been more than a little conflicted.  While there's been a lot to love in the game, I can't help but feel that certain changes could have really put this game up over the top.

Building my Dwarf Warrior

One of the best things about DA: O comes from its titular origins--depending on your choice of race (Elf, Human, or Dwarf) and class (Warrior, Mage, or Rogue), your character's quest against the Darkspawn began with an opening interlude, centering on your character's family.  Deciding to play the "dwarfiest dwarf ever", I settled on the Dwarven Noble opening, in which I was the second son of King Endrin Aeducan, and was swiftly embroiled in the byzantine turmoil of dwarven ascension politics.  Finding myself on the receiving end of a brutal backstabbing, I was exiled to the labyrinthine Deep Roads and fought my way to an encampment of Gray Wardens, whom I ended up joining.

Playing as a Warrior, I swiftly gravitated towards two-handed weapon talents...and promptly cleaved my way through the game.  Even without a shield, my main character was a juggernaut of destruction, simply hacking through most enemies.  The "darkspawn"--a not-quite-orc, not-quite-undead horde that swept across the continent of Ferelden--simply posed little challenge. Even my basic "auto-attacks" dealt upwards of 100 damage per swing, felling enemies with a single slash.  Often, combat simply meant switching between targets as I faced one, then another, then another...occasionally whipping out a multi-target slash when surrounded, or a high damage ability when facing a major foe.

Even "red" enemies, with increased hit points and special abilities, were little more than meat sacks ready for me to hack through.  While the game itself was artfully developed, the enemies grew...well, boring.  Some true weirdness in a dwarven tomb was a welcome change, fighting against the hideous "Broodmother", but monsters like that proved to be the exception, rather than the rule.  Similarly, the trip through a corrupted mage tower was suitably icky, but that section was marred by a lengthy (and mandatory) puzzle section, which frustrated me much more than it entertained.

Morrigan and Leliana:
Two of my lovely companions in DA: O

The strength of a BioWare game, however, comes from its character writing.  And, truly, the developers did not disappoint on this front.  In amongst my numerous NPC options, I gravitated towards the sarcastic (though somewhat naive) warrior Alistair, the cynical mage Morrigan, and a "recovering" bard/assassin named Leliana, with whom I began a fledgling romance.  I found myself constantly talking with my NPCs, hoping for new dialogue options or a new sub-plot.  Since playing on the "Ultimate" edition, my game came pre-loaded with an additional option to play with--the golem Shale, whose barbed commentary was utterly hilarious.  While I would have liked to see a few more NPC-specific side-quests, the sheer depth that DA: O has in terms of followers make it worth listening to every cut-scene and dialogue.

Honestly, would you trust someone
who looked like this? 

Unfortunately the plot itself didn't quite hold up to the high standard set by character development.  A bog-standard fantasy plot, you find yourself betrayed at the outset of the game by a moustache-twirlingly evil advisor to the king, as he bids for control of the throne.  Surviving a vicious darkspawn attack, you find yourself assembling a cadre of allies--mages, elves, dwarves, and humans--to help dethrone the usurper and stave off the darkspawn invasion.  Naturally, each of these factions has their own problems, which it's up to you to solve, if you want their aid in the coming coup and war.  While this plot is structurally sound and full of great NPCs--including the elven warden Zathrian, who made me want to cleave my PS3 with a broadsword out of sheer rage--it's nothing particularly new or innovative. 

The brooding Jon Irenicus,
voiced beautifully by David Warner.

I think it's the lack of a solid villain that keeps DA: O from really achieving greatness.  In Baldur's Gate II, we were treated to the simultaneously sympathetic and aggravating Jon Irenicus, whose dialogue absolutely stole the show in every cut scene he was present in.  Irenicus was voiced by the spectacular David Warner, who may be best known for voicing Ra's Al-Ghul in Batman: The Animated Series, lending Irenicus a cultured menace perfect for villainy.  Dragon Age: Origins simply doesn't have a villain of that calibre.  While Teyrn Logain--the aforementioned usurper--is meant to fulfill the villainous role, he simply doesn't have enough screen time to develop properly.  It's hinted that Loghain feared a foreign invasion and lost faith in the current king, leading him to try for the throne, but Loghain simply lacks the development to feel fleshed-out.

Despite my nitpicks, I really enjoyed my time through Dragon Age: Origins.  Immediately after completing the main campaign, I found myself playing through "Witch Hunt"--a downloadable "epilogue" based around the fate of Morrigan, my sardonic mage companion.  I'm already planning to make it through the expansion pack "Awakening" over an upcoming holiday weekend, as well as picking up Dragon Age II.  While reviews of DAII are mixed, its smaller-scale plot and more dynamic gameplay may be more up my alley.  We shall see, I suppose!

In Which The Warlock Ushers in a New Year...

Ahoy, fellow gamers!  Sorry on the delay, but I was doing my best to enjoy my holiday and recover to the best of my ability.  Both the PlatinumChick and I have been fighting through upper respiratory infections since around the 20th, which we're only now starting to get over.  However, we did manage to have a geek-tastic holiday, which is what matters!

Always the enthusiastic Savage Worlds player, the PlatinumChick got me a copy of the SW "Action and Adventure" decks for Christmas.  I'd been eyeing these up for a while, ever since The JourneymanGM started using the cards in his "Heart of Darkness" trilogy.  They'll definitely make for a great addition as my players finish out "The Flood".

I also managed to finally fight my way through the remainder of BioWare's Dragon Age: Origins, in anticipation to start the sequel.  While I'd love to spill the beans on my opinions here, I'm going to hold off until this weekend, to better accumulate my thoughts.

However, I do have something special for you!  Following last year's culinary experimentation, I felt that I needed to one-up myself at this year's New Year's Eve party.  As such, I decided to go whole hog...or rather, whole bird, so to speak:  a bacon-wrapped Turducken roll!  I'd originally intended to wrap a full turducken, but with only 15 or so party-goers this year (compared to the nearly 30 last year), it was simply more prudent to use the roll.

So, take a look, and make sure not to drool on your keyboard! 

The fully wrapped roll, pre-cooking...

That same roll, fresh out of the roaster!

A victorious PlatinumWarlock!

The many delicious layers...laid bare for all to see...

In Which The Warlock Wishes Well!

Happy holidays, fellow gamers!

Just stopping into remind you that I'll be taking the next week or so off, enjoying my holiday break (and hopefully recovering from this respiratory infection while I'm at it!). 

But, before I go, some exciting news:  I've been pegged to work on a second book in The Laundry series for Cubicle 7!  I'll have more information on this one for you, as I'm allowed to divulge more details.

Cheers!

In Which The Warlock Drools All Over the Keyboard...

This past Saturday was one of the more relaxing we've had in a while, as the holiday season has been rolling on.  The PlatinumChick and I, along with ChaoticFrederick and GeoMike, headed off to Columbus to see the WildLights exhibit at the Columbus Zoo and Aquarium.  Also joining us was the PlatinumChick's good friend WoWSonya, who we don't see nearly often enough.

That made for a great afternoon, but the bigger treat came for me that night.  You see, friends and neighbors, WoWSonya's husband Sean had recently received a beta key for Diablo III!  Oh, man!  The envy, it must have been streaming off of me when I first heard the news.

Luckily for me, Sean is of the generous sort, and once we returned from dinner, he logged me onto his Battle.net account and let me have at it!  I'm pretty sure that you could see my grin from orbit, as I slid into his computer chair and started my quest. So, as you might expect, here are my observations on a single playthrough of the Diablo III beta!

 I wanted to be able to jump into the action as soon as possible, without having to worry about fragility or spells, so I knew the Barbarian would be a great fit.  I typically played a Paladin in Diablo II, and tend to favor melee classes in most computer games, and I wasn't about to change here.

First up, the gameplay feels like I'm sliding back onto a comfortable couch.  The feel of the game immediately brings back memories of Diablo II, with primary skills attached to left and right mouse buttons, and other skills linked to hotkeys.  But, while the gameplay felt familiar, it simultaneously felt more...advanced?  That's not the right word, but it's close.  It was incredibly easy for me to pick up, though I did move around my hotkeys, setting my non-mouse skills and potions onto the home keys, for easy motion.

The mighty Barbarians of Mount Arreat

In Diablo II, characters typically advanced one or two skills--my Paladins typically favored an offensive aura like Holy Shock or Holy Freeze, coupled with Zeal--a low mana cost skill that delivered up to five incredibly fast melee hits with a slight damage buff on each.  In DIII, however, you have an entire range of skills at your disposal, which you can swap any time you return to town.  While I enjoyed trying out all of the offensive skills--I didn't care much about buffs or defensive skills--I quickly found a combination that worked well for me:  Cleave (a multi-hit swing that generated the Barbarian's resource:  Fury), Hammer of the Ancients (a close-range, massive-damage Fury-spender), and Weapon Throw (a long-range toss of a barbed axe, dealing tons of damage and "snaring" the target).  I did, however, trade out Hammer of the Ancients for Ground Stomp, which dealt sizable damage and stunned all enemies near my barbarous avatar.

Since none of these skills were reliant on skill points or the like, they always worked at their full capacity.  Really, there's very little number-crunching necessary in Diablo III.  Even the four primary stats are simply representatives of how much damage, critical chance, health and the like your character has.  While some have decried this as a lack of customization, it really serves to get you back into the action faster--there's no need to stop the zombie-smashing!  And, really--by the time I finished the beta, I was level 10 and had about 12 skills to choose from, which made for plenty of choices already.  And with the rune system still on deck?  Yeah, choice won't be a commodity here.

Hammer of the Ancients smashes a Cultist
in the Diablo III Beta!

One thing that struck me, however, is how beautiful this game looks.  Details are everywhere, and nearly everything can be targetted and destroyed.  I was in awe of the blood spatter as I smashed a zombie into the ground with Hammer of the Ancients, then followed up with a Cleave that sent the zombie flying back, with its head neatly severed and spinning on the ground.  After acquiring the services of the blacksmith, Haedrig, I picked up an enchanted two handed sword.  At first glance, the detail was quality, with a sharp-looking wavy blade and a squared-off hilt, but when I zoomed in, I found that not only did the hilt have a uniquely-designed pommel, but also an etching of an eye on the lower portion of the blade!  Gorgeous!

The visceral nature of combat, though, may be the best part.  Watching zombies ragdall as I Cleaved through them, hacking my way through barrels and watching the rings scatter across the floor, stomping the ground and seeing baddies stagger backwards...this is the visceral, full-bodied feel of a game that's never going to be tiresome. 

Whenever it manages to come out, Diablo III is going to be a massive blast.  Can't wait!

In Which The Warlock Mulls Choice and Consequence...

With the holiday season in full swing and preparations already being made for the impending ChrismaHannuKwanzaRamadanaFest, retailers have been eager to get the newest releases of video games on the shelves, ready for all of us eager consumers to gobble up in amongst our holiday feasting. 

Probably the most notable release this season has been The Elder Scrolls V:  Skyrim, a pseudo-Nordic role-playing game that's gotten rave reviews and has already won "Game of the Year" from Spike TV's Video Game Awards.  Its fans--including a certain TripleCritting DigitalKat--are rabid and voracious, and the game has already spawned its own series of memes, particularly regarding a number of guards having taken arrows to the knee.  Further, Skyrim is produced by Bethesda, who has put out quality work in the past and is revered amongst computer and video game developers.

And yet...I find I just can't get interested in this game.  And, finally, I figured out why.

In my (massively limited) spare time, I've been fighting my way through BioWare's Dragon Age: Origins.  My parents bought me the Ultimate Edition--which contains all of the major downloadable content--last year, and I'm still only about halfway through the game.  While the plot is fairly simplistic, revolving around the acquisition of allies against a usurper-king, Dragon Age's storytelling is strong, and the choices that you make have a lasting effect on the game itself. 

Is it worth killing him, to get rid of the demon in his body?

For example, I just completed a quest in which a duke's son became possessed by a demon.  Unable to exorcise the demon myself, I was forced to choose whether to:  a) kill the child, and the demon along with it, b) exorcise the demon, using the blood of the child's mother as a focus (thereby killing the mother, but saving the son), or c) risk traveling to a nearby mage tower to recruit help.  I opted for the third option, cashing in a favor from the mages, but at the expense of their help in a later battle.   

Every choice I made during that series of interactions had drastic repercussions on the remainder of the plot.  Had I chosen to kill the child (or the mother, for that matter), the people of the town would have likely refused to aid me, which was the point of traveling there in the first place!  But, my dwarf wanted to do the "right" thing, trying to save both, even if it meant losing the chance for help later.

While Dragon Age nominally gives you freedom in choosing the order of quests or locations, the game is fundamentally linear.  You travel to one place, solve problems there, then move on to another place.  Occasionally, you'll revisit locations to complete sidequests or the like, but by and large, the story elements are neatly contained, and provide finite, completable goals with lasting consequences.

While my experience with Skyrim has been limited, such hasn't been the case.  The world around you may be graphically gorgeous, massive in scope, and as open as a 'sandbox' gets, there's simply no feeling of impact.  The choices and actions within the game are like so much screaming into the wind--there's no sense of repercussions.  You can massacre an entire town, rob every NPC blind, or fill your house with the heads of your fallen enemies...and no one seems to care.  At all.  There are simply no repercussions for your character's actions, which leads to...well, me not caring.  If my actions aren't going to have a real impact, then what's the point?

I'm finding the same issue between the original Batman: Arkham Asylum and its sequel, Arkham City.  While Arkham Asylum allowed you to revisit areas, the plot proved to be a masterpiece due to its linearity.  You always knew exactly what you needed to do next, because one objective led directly to the next.  While this might seem simplistic, the unity of theme and effect made for a game experience that was without peer.  However, in Arkham City, the plot becomes much less linear, as the designers sacrificed unity of effect for the sprawling, open-world feel of a full city.  While this makes for a much more freeform game, the game's tight focus is dropped for the sprawling feel, leading to a less unified experience.

This has been my issue, similarly, with so-called "sandbox" roleplaying experiences.  Lacking a centralized plot or storyline, I often find that the PCs have little to do aside from what are typically seen as "side missions".  The "submissives"--to use the terminology from my prior entry--find themselves in the uncomfortable position of being dominant, while the GM's role is reduced to rules-arbiter and world-builder, rather than author-director.

I'm not saying that Skyrim, Arkham City or that sandbox games are bad--they simply show a trend that I, personally, don't really care for:  the fact that many gamers are willing to sacrifice quality storytelling for a perceived freedom.