Monday, 10 September 2012

Movement Rates?


Movement rate in B/X (LL, LotFP, ACK) are: 120(40)/90(30)/60(20)/30(10).  Under the S&W (as well as C&T) rules, movement rates are identical except in a “Combat round”.  In an “indoor” situation rates are 12/9/6/3 FEET while “outdoor” 12/9/6/3 YARDS.

Question: In S&W, Outdoor rates in feet are 36/27/18/9, much closer to B/X et al.  Why the discrepancy for indoor movement?  I would imagine this makes a very substantial difference for indoor combat?

Tuesday, 4 September 2012

The Rythlondar Riddle

In re-reading the Ryth Chronicle (Here), I was reminded of the 'Weir Riddle'.  In an expedition to the Weir in October 2775, a party discovered the "lesser treasure of Felsicon" behind a secret door on the second level (Ryth Chronicle, Number III, October 1976, p. 6).  Behind the door, in a small room, were four ornate chests.   The party learned that only the "proper" one could be opened on pain of a curse.  To determine the chest to open, the party needed to solve a riddle: "What do a patient assassin and a sleeping glutton have in common"?

Answers?  





Sunday, 2 September 2012

Top Secret and the Evolution of Role-playing


 Part I: “Can you afford to know”?

In the aftershocks of the OD&D ‘big bang’, a wave of new games emerged that surely find much of their DNA in the LBBs (et al).  Indeed, from TSR alone, the Olduvai Gorge of RPGs, games such as Gamma World, Boot Hill and Top Secret followed the path blazed by the ‘original’.  Of course, acknowledging similarities also prompts us to consider differences.

I suggest that as early as Top Secret’s 1980 publication not only had TSR produced a new system but also proposed, consciously or otherwise, a differing style of play.  While acknowledging a profound debt to D&D (see Top Secret, Forward, p.4), author Merle Rasmussen readily pointed out there was something different about his game claiming that players embarked on “exciting missions” that, when “interconnected” in a series was “called a campaign” (Top Secret, p.4) Clearly, Rasmussen was up to something.

I propose that Top Secret and its support materials constitute one example of the ways in which some first wave games (OS games?) evolved from the ‘building block’ of OD&D, to offer not just an alternate systems but styles as well.  By considering two specific themes: level appropriateness and the ‘story-line’ as a style of play, this article looks to acknowledge and celebrate the range, innovation and diversity of the first wave gaming.      

A Game to Fit the Characters

Cryptic hints that something was different notwithstanding, Top Secret represented only a first tentative evolutionary step.  In fact, the rulebook contained almost no insight on how to ‘run’ a campaign (Top Secret, 1980, pp. 4, 48) at all.  The only possible hint was that Rasmussen (and TSR) compared Top Secret action “to the excitement of the spy thrillers at the movies or on TV” (Top Secret, Forward).  In the broadest sense, Top Secret characters (and players?) were part of a larger quest (story-line?) to “rid the world of…offensive characters, to set right the wrongs, to bring honor to the organization, and to improve yourself” (Top Secret, p.3).  Perhaps, such notions suggest a meta-plot in the sandbox?

If, however vague and tentative, Top Secret imagined the possibility of ‘serialization’, characters needed, at times, to be protected from players.  Of course, this does not suggest Top Secret was neither deadly nor unforgiving.  As we shall see, it was both.  Yet from the outset, Rasmussen appeared sensitive to a need for lack of level appropriateness as a survival mechanism.  For example, the rulebook makes two claims: “Since new characters are, by game mechanics, relatively weak and inexperienced, the Admin should plan to present smaller risks and correspondingly smaller rewards at the beginning of the campaign, and increase the risks and rewards as the player characters become more powerful and experienced” (Top Secret, 1980, p.4) and “risk must be carefully balanced with reward, and the situations designed must not be so deadly that no one will want to play the game!” (Top Secret, p. 4).  For Rasmussen, clearly some form of appropriateness was required, not only to make the game playable but also fun enough to play at all. Yet, the rulebook offered no concrete advice on how to create, manage or run a game of Top Secret (p. 39 notwithstanding), let alone how to make it ‘appropriate’ or even ‘fun’.  To find out how to do such a thing, would-be Admins needed to look elsewhere.  The evolutionary path then, while beginning in the primordial soup of the rulebook, quickly ‘jumped’ to the next link, support materials.  Indeed, by examining Top Secret’s “Administrator Files” (‘modules’), we begin to see some of the ways in which TSR gaming developed.  

Next...Part II: Your mission, should you choose to accept it…

Friday, 31 August 2012

OSR and Worlds of Possibility


One of the best (and clearest) statements on the principles, practice, limitations and possibilities of “sandbox” is found in Stars Without Number.  Here we find something of a manifesto that seems to encapsulate the very core of what OD&D, its offspring (thanks Erik) and derivatives do well.  In effect, OD&D (OSR fantasy) and sandbox seem destined for each other.

But let me digress.  Regardless of my thoughts on OSR, if as David Macauley argues “Broadly defined, the OSR is an online community centred on amateur publishing that has taken advantage of the OGL and SRD to produce TSR D&D compatible gaming materials”, then nothing I have to say about either ‘offspring’ or other systems seems worthwhile.  But if, as David also suggests (I think?) that the “OSR was all about getting old school games into the mainstream and getting people playing them” then there may be some virtue in considering other older games, even if the system was different and the corporate logo the same.  Maybe?

Having enjoyed JimLotFP 2008 posting “Is this how D&D is supposed to be played?” (http://lotfp.blogspot.ca/2008/05/is-this-how-d-is-supposed-to-be-played.html), I’ve begun re-reading some of the early non-D&D TSR material with the question broadened to: Is this how these OS RPGs are supposed to be played? 

So far, I’m struck by the ways in which such notions such as D&D as template, Sandbox/Storyline and “game balance” (in the Matthew Fitch “Primer sense”) germinated and evolved.  Based on the reading of early TSR non-D&D line, namely Top Secret and Gangbusters, I will explore the ways in which these notions changed over time.    

Thursday, 30 August 2012

Skinning Cats: The OSR Mold


In an interesting posting, serial (and I mean that in good way) blogger Erik Tenkar discussed what he perceived as a connection between complexity in rules and mortality in play. Key to his argument were two questions: “Does Pathfinder not mesh well with old school dungeon crawls? Is the risk of character death in a rule system that encourages players to plan out their skills and feats in advance too great for the "Oh Shit! Run!" style of play?”

At one level I fully agree.  After all, who wants to spend a session making a character that ends up finding out how a bottomless pit trap works…the hard way. 

Having never played Pathfinder, I can’t speak to the rules, character generation or modules.  Yet I do recall that there were OSR era games that did have some very substantial generation hoops.  Early-ish RPGs such as Traveller, Rolemaster, James Bond 007, Palladium Fantasy come to mind.  I would imagine for such games, "Oh Shit! Run!" style of play” might have been less than satisfactory?  Perhaps the answer might lay in reading old non-D&D modules?

Indeed, OSR as "Oh Shit! Run!" may in fact, be more specific to D&D or even perhaps the D&D dungeon crawl? Perhaps "Oh Shit! Run!" might have largely been a notion found mostly in fantasy (D&D?) games?  I wonder if the same phenomenon was experienced at game table favouring other systems?  In my experience, other early games such as Top Secret, Gangbusters and Boot Hill, while not ‘first generation’, rarely followed such a tempo (and play principles).  Indeed, there was ‘running’ but many of the virtues (fun and frustration) found in D&D was simply not part of the equation.  Seen in this way, is "Oh Shit! Run!" more suggestive of OSR-D&D rather than OSR?  Surely OSR can also mean: “Other systems…remember”?



Tuesday, 28 August 2012

The Burden of History


In my ‘Golden Age’ (early 1980s), a rumour circulated through the pre-pubescent gaming community: somewhere in the city, a professor ran a [insert preferred variation of rumoured game here] RPG campaign.  In the particular version I heard, it was Runequest.  This game, we supposed, must be truly magical but even more importantly, accurate. 

In retrospect, part of the imagined supremacy of the game resulted from our belief that surely such an esteemed academic could create an authoritative world.  Who better, in fact, could make the imagined real, mastering ‘subject’ as well as style and substance?

In a few days, I’m back in the office, back to lectures, grading and looking for a parking spot.  I will have to split time again, between my one love, teaching, and my other, research and writing.  I’m a historian.  I’m also a professor but I’m not THAT professor.    

Given my day job, I’m regularly asked by players whose interest and knowledge of RPGs extends beyond the ‘golden chains’ of D&D, if I will create a historical RPG campaign.  As I did in 1981, they must imagine that as a historian, my world will be authentic, imaginative, perhaps even inspired.  Indeed to some degree, I do enjoy historical settings.  At OSRcon 2012, I volunteered to offer ‘Boot Hill’ in a session that proved more ‘historical’ than ‘cinemagraphic’.  I also prefer keeping Cthulhu in the 1920s and appreciate the role of class and ethnicity in any good Gangbusters game.  But, here’s the terrible secret: Real history is boring at best and downright nightmarish at worst.  In most cases and places, one’s existence, Hobbes quipped, proved decidedly “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.”    

In my (gaming) experience, this is often countered by focusing solely on exciting people doing exciting things.  Not a bad idea in theory but in practice, this tended to boil down to killing things.  Here is where I appreciate a proxy, be it orc, alien or Red Skull.  Perhaps it’s what I teach that scares me away from ‘historical’ gaming.  At some level, I fear trivializing suffering.  Frankly, history is real, not a game.

In the end, the enduring unpopularity of historical RPGs free on some kind of genre mash-up (weird wars, history-horror et al) remains a gaming norm.  While I do appreciate some effort at historicism, I prefer to leave my job at the office and not at the game table.  And If I’m looking for “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short”, there’s always Tomb of Horrors isn’t there?

Monday, 27 August 2012

Google +/Google :S

In response to OSR blogger John Bell's posting today "I'm on Google Plus" (http://retiredadventurer.blogspot.ca/), commentor JasonZavoda (sic) wrote: "I'm on google+ as well but I have no idea how it works."  Bravo, JZ.  Thank you for writing exactly what I've been thinking.  

I fear that I am experiencing 'Emperor's New Clothes' Symdrome.  Like JB and JV, I feel Google Plus is something I should be "on" and suspect something really fun is going on and I'm missing it.  I've managed to 'friend' people but have no idea what this does, means or how it impacts my life at all.

Can anyone please tell me a) what the &%$# is it?  b) why and how should I use it? c) what am I missing?  d) in what ways will it change my perceptions of reality itself? 

Please...