Yesterday, I had a chance to catch up with game designer Paul Stefko of Pittsburgh. Like many of us, Paul got his start in game design in grade school—but unlike those among us who have kept our designs to spiral-bound notebooks, Paul has found ways to commercialize his talent! His latest endeavor is "Full Moon: An RPG of Life on the Lunar Frontier," a FATE-based RPG which started from a simple inspiration: "Deadwood on the moon."
I just wanted to give another quick plug to Fred Hicks' Kickstarter for Dinocalypse: a novel set in the Spirit of the Century universe. It's not often you have the chance to get seven ebooks for $10, and support an awesome project (and a great company) as well. I've backed it, and you've got three days left to join in!
It's been a couple weeks since we first set foot in this original campaign world I'm building, so hopefully I haven't lost anyone along the way. If you're just hearing about this new realm for the first time today, you can catch up by checking out the previous posts in this series:
I imagine that I'm not unusual among gamers in that my first exposure to roleplaying games featured binary conflict. By this, I mean that everything was measured in terms of success or failure--a "win" or "lose" option for each tension point that helped determine how the story moved forward.
Certainly, these games included room for improvisation--sometimes the decision between "win" (kill the orc) or "lose" (be killed by the orc) could be rejected, and replaced with the surprising "reason with the orc" or "run from the orc." Furthermore, the "win" option was often a series of options--stab the orc, shoot the orc with a magic missile, enchant the orc, etc.
However, if the "win" option represented dozens of very dark-hued shades of gray, the "lose" option was a devastatingly blank white. Your attack misses, you don't pick the lock, you accidentally scry on yourself instead of your foe, etc. In many of these binary success games I've played, the core mechanic comes down to "If the player wins the roll, she describes how she succeeds; if the player loses the roll, the GM describes how she fails."
Lately, Team Intwischa has been playing Houses of the Blooded, which turns this on its head. Following are observations of adjusting to a radically different play style, and advice on "how to fail" -and how failure can make a more interesting story.
Most of Intwischa's best traffic is sent to us by other gaming blogs, and several bloggers have been kind enough to provide commentary or links to one of our articles (and, by extension, grant us a traffic bump). With that in mind, I'd like to share with you some articles that I bookmarked from the previous week, as well as some reflections I have on the posts.
Last week, I introduced my Generated Game idea. Using a selection of our idea generators, I came up with a set of random details to use as the basis for a game. Today, I'm going to take the foundation provided by the generators, and elaborate upon them.
We gamers are an interesting bunch, prone to eccentric quirks, foibles, and... well, weirdness. As such, we're also prone to some odd superstitions that a non-gamer wouldn't experience. Now loyal readers may remember some past posts about using superstitions in-game to build up an interesting character, but I'm betting you also know of some odd superstitions held by fellow players too. What better day to discuss some of those peculiar behaviors than on Friday the 13th? Hockey mask not included.
Imagine a hole so dark that it consumes light--but not in space. Blue holes, unlike their space-time cousins, are really "just" holes--sinkholes, to be precise. I've always been fascinated by sinkholes, and sinkholes have apparently been around far, far longer than I've been fascinated by them. Once upon a time, much of the earth's water was frozen in glaciers and the sea level was some 300-400 feet lower. Some sinkholes occurred in this time in what were then "costal regions," and when the glaciers melted, they filled in.
The modern results of this are holes--some of them possessing a roundness so near-perfect circles as to be eerie--that are full of oxygen-deprived water (and thus, even more eerily, nearly absent of life). These range from depths of 40 feet to almost 700 feet. When these occur in the ocean (as seen in the picture), their preternatural-seeming color comes from the sun reflecting off the white sands at their bases (the white sand comes from the erosion of the carbonate walls of the sinkhole). As Wikipedia puts it, "blue is the most enduring part of the [light] spectrum," so while the red, yellow, and green light fails to penetrate the depths, the blue light is reflected from the sands.
Here are some ideas for using blue holes in your games.
It's been a couple weeks since we first set foot in this original campaign world I'm building, so hopefully I haven't lost anyone along the way. If you're just hearing about this new realm for the first time today, you can catch up by checking out the first two posts in this series:
If you've been following my lead through the woods, then you know that we've found our way here by asking some very specific questions. Hopefully our answers will shine a light into the darkness of this primeval place.
Most of Intwischa's best traffic is sent to us by other gaming blogs, and several bloggers have been kind enough to provide commentary or links to one of our articles (and, by extension, grant us a traffic bump). With that in mind, I'd like to share with you some articles that I bookmarked from the previous week, as well as some reflections I have on the posts.
Somehow I managed time this week to follow links from both fellow Intwischa contributors, related posts to those contributors, and articles that linked from those related posts. I even got to game one night, using our tried & true Virtual Gamer setup. All in all, I'm feeling pretty inspired thanks to all of these fellow members of the role playing community. In the following links, you can read about GM angst, D&D art, and improv adventure tips. Happy reading!
