I’ve had three good theoretical ideas in my life as a game designer, all of which I’ve put into practice.
Premise. I was swinging this hammer in the 90′s when I realized that Vampire was a terrible game that lied to its players (as Ken Hite said: “Don’t lie to your customers.”). The idea that good games had an “aboutness” that informed both design decisions and play decisions. Ron co-opted the term to cover Lajos Egri’s theories about narratives but the basic concept remains the same. Game and stories have premises. A premise in a story informs the narrative while a premise in a game informs the design. RPGs need both: a design premise (what is the GAME about) and a narrative premise (what is the STORY about). Games are not stories, but you can tell a story within the context of a game… this is what makes RPGs unique. The player tells the story, not the game designer.
The other were the Beeeg Horseshoe Theory and of course, the Three Questions. But I don’t want to talk about those right now.
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curgoth |
What was the lie of Vampire’s premise? That it was about vampires struggling to remain human (instead of how awesome it is to be a vampire superhero)? Or something else?
Jared Sorensen |
That’s pretty much it. “A game of personal horror” became a game about superpowers, political intrigue and LAW rockets.
stormykins |
I had mentioned to Luke before about how rules for headshots make combats a race to the headshot. It was specifically in regard to CP2020, and a houserule we had for it, but Vamp had similar issues.
mythusmage |
I ask myself this, “What do you do in this game?” Not the official reason, not the designer’s reason, what do you do in a game. Vampire became a game of neat powers, D&D became a game of neat powers and gnarly bling. Neat powers — and gnarly bling — are the car chases of RPGs, and demonstrate the same lack of imagination and energy as car chases in movies.
A big part of the problem is the thinking that says RPGs are skirmish games, and that as skirmish games absolutely require a contrived balance that would never occur in real life. That RPGs are guidelines to creating worlds in which imaginary people live has become anathema, to be shunned as avidly as the proposition that North America has a native great ape.
So the answer to the question becomes, “To kill people and take their stuff.” As true for Vampire or any other game as it ever was for D&D.
Which is a pity, for another path, a path that presents RPGs as exercises in adventure and world building may well have broadened the audience and given the industry a stronger base to work with. By restricting itself to a core of death crazed, bling addicted fans RPGs have restricted themselves to a ghetto ever on the verge of failure and extinction.
Then again, I am convinced Patty (the Patterson-Gimlin Film) is a sasquatch, so take the above as you will.