“I love it when a plan comes together.”
Vincent has a new forum. While I wasn’t looking, he’s started thinking a lot about immersion. This is awesome stuff.
Category: Gaming
Required reading: Breakdown of RPG Players. There are a lot of theories about what people want out of gaming, and then there’s actual market research. I could rant about this more, but I already have.
Preamble and rant done. Okay.
It’s easy to reward Storytellers; you give them more narrative control. Primetime Adventures is a great example of this kind of mechanic; when someone does cool stuff, they get chips which can be cashed in for more control. Nice little positive feedback mechanism there. You narrate well, and in exchange you get more narrative control: you’re rewarded for doing well at something you like by getting more chances to do well.
Same goes for Power Gamers. Or for Gamists, if you will. You kill things, you get more powerful. That’s about as direct a link as you get.
I will ignore Thinkers for now. Maybe later.
How do you give that kind of reward to someone who likes immersive play? You’re looking for some kind of tangible way to make their desired style of play better, or easier, or some such. But there’s very little obstruction to immersive play to start with, given a sympathetic group.
I guess you could start out with a less immersive structure. Say… something where everyone shares a common pool of characters, and control of a specific character varies from scene to scene, like the NPCs in The Shab-al-Hiri Roach, but more so. And as you accomplish goals, you get more and more control of a specific character, presumably one of your choice.
I’m not sure what an immersive success looks like, given that it’s a completely subjective thing. It’s hard to tell whether or not someone’s being immersive unless you’re that person. You could be complex and hinge the mechanic on character choices that are clearly not in the character’s best interests, but sometimes immersive decisions are in the character’s best interests.
But maybe you don’t need immersive successes; maybe more traditional game successes could have that sort of reward? No reason why not.
Similarly, perhaps you could keep the one-player/one-character rule, but hold back control of the character from the player until they “earned” it. This might work well in conjunction with a dystopian world — something where the State owns your life until you’re rebel enough to take it back.
I kind of like that. I should look at Game Chef before it’s too late, which it almost is. But…
MEMORY
DRUG
PALACE
CURRENCY
Yeah, I could work with that.
Any other thoughts? If you’re immersive, what do you want in terms of mechanical rewards?
You knew a career criminal by the name of Nolan. First name unknown; she never used it, not even with her close friends, which not all of you are. She used to work for the Outfit, running a club in Central City, but that was five or six years ago before she ran into trouble with one of their middle manager types. For the last while, she’s been an independent, doing jobs here and there.
Right now, you’re in Iota City, a small time city a ways west of the Tri Cities, which are a distance west from Central City. A couple of you live there, and a couple of you are pausing there for a while. Nolan died there, a week ago, in the back room of the Thinker’s place. She was shot. It happens, in this business.
There was going to be a job. The Thinker planned it, as per usual. It wasn’t working for the Outfit, but it was something the Outfit was very interested in, maybe because of Nolan; she was going to use part of her part of the proceeds to pay them off, and now they’re expecting it. So it needs to be done even with her dead; and besides, there’s still enough money in it to make both you and them happy.
So there’s still going to be a job. It’s a four-person thing. The Thinker doesn’t usually come on these, but he’s going to have to this time. It’s a risky thing. That’s why nobody bigger has done it. It’s a lucrative thing. Everyone has to start somewhere, and for some of you, this is your start.
If it works out, you’ll have what they call magic money. Money enough, and time.
I’m mildly addicted to Hard Case Crime books. (Parenthetical trivia: Charles Ardai, the editor and founder of Hard Case Crime, is married to Naomi Novik, who writes the Temeraire series. Fantasy Napoleonic dragons vs. noir thrillers. Small world.)
Anyway, mildly addicted. The new books are in the style of the old books, and the old books are a fun read. Slick, completely stuck in the preconceptions and prejudice of their day, but fun. Tough guys slouch around dealing with rotten people in seedy situations, and there’s a bad idea for every gin mill and a gin mill for every chapter. There’s something charming about a milieu in which the world isn’t measured by the time it takes for an email to get to you — I suspect that one of the key dividing lines of modern fiction is the point at which cell phones became so common that you had to assume them. It’s a fundamental change in the difficulty of interactions.
The view of organized crime is a really interesting difference between these books and modern mysteries slash thrillers. Blame the trinity of Puzo, Coppola, and Scorsese, I suppose. All these old books have an organized crime that’s almost completely a corporate matter. The Organization (or Outfit, or Family, but not Mafia) has lawyers. It wears three-piece suits and does business in a fairly chilly, austere kind of a way.
In Point Blank, the money quote goes like this: “Let me tell you something about corporations, Walker. This is a corporation, I’m an officer of a corporation, and we deal in millions, we never see cash. I’ve got about eleven dollars in my pocket.” That’s the size of it. You see hints of Sicilian heritage here and there, but they get shoved into the background a lot. Sometimes you don’t really see organized crime as much as you see a big businessman whose pursuits lead him across the legal limit now and again.
I figure this reflects the corporate mindset of the fifties. It wasn’t till 1969 that Puzo blew it apart with The Godfather, and Coppola and Scorsese nailed the coffin shut, or some such suitably violent metaphor. This is about a ten year lag from the point at which the Mafia as we think of it today first really hit the American consciousness, but that sounds about right for pop culture.
This primary realization, along with a week or two spent swimming in 50s-60s noir, was the clue that unlocked Edge of Midnight for me. You want to pull back a notch and go for that chilly, corporate feel or the world doesn’t quite make sense. At least, not for me.
This leads to my one-shot idea, which is an Edge of Midnight game set in the aftermath of one of those failed jobs you got all the time. I think I’d want to kill off the protagonist, or rather, the person who’d be the protagonist in the book. I could do worse than lift Max Allan Collins’ first Nolan novel, with a dead Nolan; that leaves us with the older guy who plans jobs, his eager but wet behind the ears nephew, his nephew’s friend the driver… I’d have to rework the girlfriend, who is in no way a playable character, but I’ll think of something.
This is a holiday gift for Brant, who is long-suffering.
“You can’t trust the Ordo when it comes to the occult,” she said. “That’s not a proverb, but it should be. Here’s another one: ‘You’re smarter than the Ordo thinks you are.’ Put the two of those together and you have the sort of scenario that leads, inexorably, to something like the current state of Walt Disney World.”
She paused, looking up at her audience. “Sabado would tell it differently. Of course. But if you’re worth his investment, you’ll know that already.
“Very well. Here is why Walt Disney World is a separate fiefdom, not part of Orlando, and here is why I am Prince of Walt Disney World, and here is why Sabado is Prince of Orlando. Pay attention. The quiz on stories such as these always continues for the rest of your life.
“The then Prince of Orlando, Hegelsen, found the Wyrm’s Nest that lies beneath Cinderella’s Castle in 1961. I see by your expression that you do not know what a Wyrm’s Nest is. Ask around, children; for the purposes of this tale you need only know that it is a desirable source of power. More so to the Ordo. It became a matter of some urgency for him to extend his control over this portion of land, thusly.
“At the time, this was merely undeveloped farmland. Prince Hegelsen speculated that the Wyrm’s Nest was the source of the legends of the Fountain of Youth. I find this too convenient, but I was a publicist, not a magician. Or scientist. Perhaps he was right. In any case, he immediately began to scheme to extend his official influence over the Nest.
“Walt Disney, according to the official biographies, had begun to consider a Florida resort in 1960. Perhaps a year earlier; I never recall precisely. This was certainly a matter of coincidence, as I was present in many of the early discussions about a Disney Florida theme park. Yes, at the time I was alive and in Mr. Disney’s employ.
“By 1962, Hegelsen was aware of Mr. Disney’s intentions. This lever provided a convenient means for him to claim dominion over the land on which Walt Disney World would be built; accordingly, he took measures to ensure that Mr. Disney would select this area. It was not inordinately difficult, for all the official reasons. His part was mostly arranging for local city officials to grant the concessions Mr. Disney requested. They were quite considerable.
“Now, no secret lasts. In 1965, certain other influential vampires in the Orlando area became aware of Prince Hegelsen’s intentions regarding the Nest. At that time, I am told, Orlando was the most significant vampiric city in Florida. It has, perhaps, declined since then. But at that time, it was clear that should Prince Hegelsen succeed in pressing his new claim, his personal power would appreciate greatly, and there would be no feasible opposition to his regime until such a time as he happened to enter Torpor. This was considered unacceptable.
“Also by 1965, I had entered into my current condition. This was at Prince Hegelsen’s bidding, in order to gain insight into Mr. Disney’s plans. It was arranged by a certain Mr. Sabado, who had an eye both for his own future and for appropriate balances of power.
“I will confess, since it costs me nothing to do so, that I suspect Mr. Sabado was not as entirely an independent agent as he claimed to me. My suspicion is that Mr. Sabado and Prince Hegelsen had previously arranged to position the former of the pair as a peacemaker and compromise candidate for the throne if Prince Hegelsen’s bid for the Nest was unsuccessful. Whether or not that was the intent, that was precisely what occurred.
“I had been charmed by Mr. Sabado’s intellect and keen perceptions. He spent a great deal of time in 1966 and 1967 introducing me to vampiric society, going so far as to install me as the new Mistress of Elysium in Orlando by Christmas Eve of 1967. He carefully depicted me, in a manner quite Pygmalionesque, as an apolitical master of image. His efforts were successful.
“In 1969, with Mr. Sabado’s tacit assistance, Prince Hegelsen was murdered. You might not wish to discuss that matter in detail with Sheriff Steel. Mr. Sabado’s reward for his assistance was the Princeship of Orlando; he also arranged to have me installed as Prince of Walt Disney World. This was not seen as a reward for him on the part of his co-conspirators. However, he gained an ally on his border, whether or not they realized it.
“And no, I do not intend to speak of them. Mr. Parker could tell you more; I doubt that he will.
“Prince Sabado’s other reward, of course, is that Orlando remained in Ordo Dracul hands. He has no hope of attaining the Nest, albeit he would dearly like to do so. He also has a city much weakened from what it was in his predecessor’s heyday. I think that in the end, Prince Hegelsen would have been better off had he eschewed occult ambition… but then he would not have been a true member of the Ordo, would he have? It is almost Grecian.
“I must speak to other attendees now. Your reactions to my tale have been gratifying; I thank you. I trust you will enjoy the remainder of the evening.”
Secrets work like this, right now. This is subject to change.
Possession of a Secret grants arcane power. The more people who hold a Secret, the less power it grants. If we were playing a D20 game, then you could have up to +20 in your Secret skill if you were the only one who knew a Secret. If two people knew the Secret, the maximum would be +15. Ten people? +10. And so on.
A Secret must be significant.
Secrets are defined by five elements: the secret; that which the Secret’s holder can control; that to which the Secret’s holder is vulnerable; that which the Secret’s holder can perceive; and that to which the Secret’s holder is blind. This is most often drawn as a compass rose. In the South, the element of control is at the north; the element of vulnerability is at the south; the element of vision is at the east; and the element of blindness is at the west. The North is precisely reversed. In the South, they say that Northern occultists are fools, because surely the element of vision should be positioned ahead of the Secret’s holder. In the North, they say that Southern occultists are idiots, because how can the element of control not be positioned beneath the Secret’s holder?
The Aratain Church’s Secret, which is held by all ordained Church members, is that the Church’s founder was the son of a courtesan. Aratainians thus control virtues; they have the ability to, in very small degree, inflame them and encourage them. In theory they might also dampen them. The ability is limited, since tens of thousands hold that Secret. Likewise, Aratainians are slightly vulnerable to those who exchange sex for money. The vulnerability is again limited, but nonetheless it is the practice for the cathedrals of the faith to employ non-believers as a line of defense.
Aratainians perceive money. At a touch, an Aratainian faithful can discern a small degree of the emotional content pertaining to a given piece of currency: if it was most recently part of a violent transaction, for example, the Aratainian touching it might feel some measure of that anger. Aratainians are blind to bedrooms. Their perceptions are slightly obscured in bedrooms; no bedroom, no matter how well lit, will ever seem completely clear to them.
The Mayor of Vain’s Rest holds a Secret which will not be revealed. He is the only holder of this Secret. He has control over the undead; he can call them up, or dismiss them, as he sees fit. This is balanced by his vulnerability to those of Geoffery Vain’s lineage. It is no wonder that he allows a representative of the Banegard to recruit in his town. His perceptions extend out over the entirety of Vain’s Rest, but he is nearly blind once he leaves the gates.
The Drunken Magistrate is one of many taverns in Vain’s Rest. There is nothing unusual about it. There’s a common room where people drink and eat, and perhaps six bedrooms up above. One can sleep in the common room, too, but one’d best count on being woken up early. The stable is not particularly good, and there is no dedicated stable boy. There’s a musician or two most nights.
Ba Juerun owns the place; his daughter Nuru waits tables, and his wife Audu cooks. His son, Chanc, does whatever needs doing.
Every neighborhood tavern has regulars, and one would expect a subgroup of those regulars to become the unofficial arbiters of the tavern: those looked to in a bar fight, for example. You (yes, you) are the people who use the Drunken Magistrate as a place of business, a place to pass judgment, and a home away from home.
The Banegard was founded by Jacob Sloth, some two generations after the Maiden Broke. His purpose was to provide a bulwark against evil in the world, one not dependent on the politics of Oratain or the religious strictures of any church. His departure from the Army of the West was not entirely amicable, but since he was perhaps the best general of the age and since he brought much of his support staff with him, Oratain chose not to obstruct his passage.
Banegard Tower was shaped as an educational institution as much as it was as a fortress. Marcus Greary, Jacob Sloth’s academician, designed the Tower as a source of knowledge. He believed that by giving freely to the nations and states of the North, Sloth’s new army would gain the gifts of manpower and support in return. As such, he spared no expense in hiring academicians and military experts, and opened the Military School at no cost other than five years of post-education service or the equivalent.
The cost to Sloth’s personal fortune was immense for several years. However, after the youthful Banegard defeated a significant force of otherkin at Travin’s Gulch, mere hours from the borders of Main Gauvin, Queen Pomfray of Oratain made peace between her reign and Jacob Sloth. From then on, despite occasional grumbles from some noble families, Banegard Tower has been a fixture of the North and well-regarded for its efforts both public and private to maintain the safety of the entire region.
Currently, Banegard Tower is a recognized ally of every significant entity in the North excepting the Warlock Cities. While the Cities are not, of course, overrun by inimical forces, many assume that their safety is due to dark pacts; the Banegard might well otherwise be necessary. The Tower is governed by Arren Sloth, a direct descendant of Jacob. Jacob’s line has remained strong.
Vain’s Rest is located at the border between the North and the South; it’s a border delineated by nature, not by man. To the north, green hills and white mountains rise to the horizon, and farmers trade stories of children stolen by the southern barbarians. To the south, the desert rolls in dunes as far as the eye can see, and the cultured gentlemen of the jeweled cities discuss the ways in which the northern barbarians can be cozened.
Vain’s Rest is a city of exiles. The Broken Maiden lies too close, and if nothing else cemented Vain’s Rest as a place where few live by choice, that would. But even before the Maiden Broke, Geoffery Vain’s last resting place was a dangerous town full of those who respect no borders, not even those laid down by the gods. It is where you come to do business with the other realm that cannot be conducted by embassy or official means. It is a place where law does not stretch, just as Vain intended centuries ago.
There are several powers and perhaps Powers in Vain’s Rest. The office of Mayor has been passed from competent man to competent man for some time, and until the Mayoral Secret is lost, that seems likely to continue. The Vainites know Geoffery Vain’s resting place, which may or may not hold power, but their temporal power alone is significant in any case. There are other cults and religions, more by the year. A recruiting officer for the Banegard lives in the center of town, and does not interfere with anyone often. There are always rumors of Kingsmen and perhaps Calanian envoys, but that’s true of almost every town in the world.
Ten thousand people. Regrettably, too many of them are exceptional for comfort.
- Vain’s Rest
- Vainites
- Geoffery Vain
- Drunken Magistrate
- Broken Maiden
- Untamed Lands
- The Untamed
- The North
- Order of Hermetics
- Banegard Tower
- Oratain
- Kingsmen
- The South
- Trader’s League
- The Yuanya Emirate
- The Camel Tribes
- Free City of Calain