Customized Complexity

Posted by Sage LaTorra on Nov 9, 2011 in Games, Indies & More | 0 comments

Each week I do an Indies & More post where I take a look at Monte Cook’s Legends and Lore column for the week and share some thoughts on how other games and designers tackle the same issues. I’m not arguing with Monte or speaking for some larger design movement, these are just my thoughts on the same topic coming from a different gaming background. Since Monte’s writing for Wizards of the Coast he can’t talk about how other games deal with these issues, that’s why I write this column. This week Monte’s topic was customized complexity.

Let’s get this out of the way: I totally love the idea of subsystems that address the needs of certain groups for detail in certain areas but don’t require everyone to use them. There’s lots of challenges around it, but it’s a sweet sweet idea.

It’s similar to what Burning Wheel does, actually. Burning Wheel is organized into the hub, which is the core stuff you need to play, and then various subsystems (the spokes) that cover everything from magic to fighting to debate in more detail. It’s pretty easy to ignore one or more systems as needed, removing some complexity. The difference from what Monte suggests is that Burning Wheel characters always have all the stats you need to use any of the subsystems. If you’re not using the subsystem you either ignore the stat or treat it as a straightforward roll against a difficulty, as described in the hub.

The idea that I can make my character, then plug in extra bits for certain parts of the game is a really compelling one. BW hits you with complexity up front so you’re ready for all those optional systems. That creates a barrier to entry that it would be cool to get away from.

Of course this got me thinking about what the core of a character in various systems is. Monte suggests that the core of a D&D character is “ability scores, race, class, hit points, armor class/defenses, and gear.” How about other games? (Of course these are my own impressions, I can’t speak for the designers.)

A Burning Wheel character is primarily their Beliefs. You could swap out the rest of the game with a single coin flip and Beliefs would carry a lot of weight.

An Apocalypse World character is their place in the world (which is partially defined by the player). The stats, moves, and Hx all exist to reinforce that.

A Dust Devils character is their history, the baggage they bring with them.

A Fiasco character is their connections to other characters.

A Blowback character is their friends.

A Shadow of Yesterday character is their Keys, the ways they grow and advance.

A Primetime Adventures character is the issue they’re struggling with.

A Smallville character is their place in a relationship map.

The reason I bring these up is first because it’s an interesting thought exercise, but also because these basic character cores all speak more to me than ability scores, race, class, hit points, armor class/defenses, and gear. I don’t know if that’s true of others, but if you tell me your character’s ability scores, race, class, hit points, armor class/defenses, and gear my eyes glaze over. If you tell me about why they adventure, who they’re related to, or how they’ll grow, I get excited.

This isn’t to say that D&D characters aren’t exciting. It’s just that many of the exciting bits come in later, or aren’t written down. This is one area that I feel other game have done better: getting you to actually write down the interesting parts of your character as well.

The one point where I disagree with Monte is on mechanical backing for certain types of customization. Monte says ” You don’t want to just declare that your character used to be the cook from the king’s court, you wanted the skill bonus to back up that claim,” but I don’t think a skill bonus is always what you want.

Chronica Feudalis has an interesting answer to this, one that I think covers the example of wanting to be a cook in the king’s court better. They’re called Backgrounds and what you state in your background is something that you’re assumed to be very good at. So good at, in fact, that during play we don’t bother playing it out. It may happen, but you’re assumed to have succeeded at it and it happens off-stage.

This handles the “mechanical” part of this kind of request very well. If your background is “King’s cook” we’re not going to spend lots of game time detailing your cooking. Instead, whenever you cook great meals for important people, cooking won’t be an issue at all. It’s a great way for the players to state what they’re not interested in and also a wonderful guide to the GM. If the GM wants to challenge the players while they host a visiting noble now he knows it won’t be a matter of cooking, which might point out other ways to challenge the players. Maybe cooking isn’t a problem, but providing enough ingredients is.

But that’s only really half of what “King’s cook” should mean. It’s also something for the GM to use to present adventures and the world around them. The fact that it’s “King’s cook” and not “Master chef” is important! The point is not just to say “I’m good at this” but to establish a fact that the player and GM can use to create a more interesting game. That kind of agreement doesn’t need a mechanical backing, the important part is that both the player and the GM accept it and use it.

The idea of being able to customize the complexity of my game and my character sounds wonderful, even if it is a daunting design challenge to make all those systems useful, available, and interlocking. I just hope that the core of the characters is an interesting one.