Archive for the ‘Brainstorms’ Category

Lil’ John RPG

Wednesday, August 11th, 2010

Player A says something to Player B. Player B responds with one of these three words:

OKAAAAY!

“I accept your proposition and would like to respond.”

YEEAAAH!

“I agree with what you’re saying. Please continue.”

WWWHAT?

“Please, explain what you mean in more detail.”

…or Player B may disagree with Player A and issue a challenge by asking:

“ARE YOU FUCKIN’ WITH ME?”

Player A responds with either “Yeah!” or “What?” If Player A responds with “What?” then Player B may offer a rebuttal. If Player A responds with “Yeah!” then Player B commands:

“STOP FUCKIN’ WITH ME!”

…in which Player A responds with either “Okay!” or “What?”

And so on.

Toy Story 3

Wednesday, June 23rd, 2010

Imagining a kids adventure game where they play toys (natch). Each toy has access to a list of stock phrases.

There’s a snake in my boot!
To infinity and beyond!
Hi, I’m Ken!

Each phrase tells you something about the character. Buzz Lightyear is bold and brave, Woody is prone to getting into trouble. Ken is effusively friendly.

They’re kind of like beliefs for the toys. You’re not limited to these phrases but there’s an incentive to use them during the game (not unlike the Dying Earth RPG). These phrases are determined by the toys’ players.

Bullpen

Tuesday, May 25th, 2010

A pre-game activity for 3-5 players.

Bullpen is a game you play before you play the game to help suss out character ideas. It’s especially suited to creating superhero characters.

Each player needs a laptop computer and three six-sided dice. Open a word processing program and create a new document. Name the document “bullpen_yourname.” Create a heading containing your name, followed by the names of the other players. Save the document. If you have access to Google Wave you can share a document.

For example, I create the document “bullpen_jared” and list player’s names:

Jared
Luke
Thor
Drozdal

The first player is the first person to set up their laptop and this document.

On the first player’s turn, he should reveal a fact about his character’s history using the first person and write it down on the first line of the document. The other players should also write down this fact under the first player’s name.

Jared
I was created by a scientist to protect mankind against an alien threat.

The first player may then roll a six-sided die or pass.

If he rolls the die and it turns up 6, he may introduce another fact about his character’s history or pass. If he didn’t pass, he rolls again.

If he ever rolls a 1, then that fact is up for debate – the next player may change one part of the first player’s fact. His turn ends and play proceeds to the next player’s turn.

If the first player passed or didn’t roll a 6, the second player now reveals a fact about his own character and the game continues.

If a player incorporates another player’s fact, then he gets to roll an additional die (max. of three dice). If any of these turn up 6, he may reveal another fact. If all the dice turn up 1, his fact is up for debate and his turn ends.

When writing down historical facts about your character, you can insert facts anywhere in the document under your name. This helps in establishing and maintaining the chronology when writing down a fact that occurred before something you already wrote.

At the end of the last player’s turn, that player gets to ask the first player one question:

Who? What? Where? When? Why? How?

This question should pertain to a fact already established by the first player. The first player must then answer this question by revealing another fact about his character (usually writing it beneath the previous fact).

The game continues until each character has 12 facts in his history. If a player finishes early, he gets to continue to ask questions and debate facts but not add any more of his own.

Fuck you and your box text

Monday, March 15th, 2010

Your box text might be incredibly well written and interesting to read on the page but it’s not at all important when you’re playing a game and it’s time to relay that information to the players.

It doesn’t matter.

Investigation is not about taking in every detail and trying to make sense of it. It’s about finding answers to your questions.

There’s a thread on story-cunts and predictably, the host of usual suspects just doesn’t get it. Jesse sees the problem, because he’s an astute guy. From him, re: Gumshoe (which I dislike immensely, so full disclosure there):

“You come into the library, ornate tapestries hang from the wall depicting scenes from the life of Henry the V. Each row of books is headed by an ornately carved statue. The floor itself appears to be made of marble and is inscribed with odd occult runes. The large domed ceiling sports an incredibly detailed map of the stars.”

In most of these kinds of games and in this example, the GM waits for one of the players to pick the right thing to inquire about, then gives him the relevant information. This is ass-backwards.

What should happen is that the players investigate the scene not by finding an answer but by asking a question:

“What are we doing here?”

Look at a police procedural. It’s not a clue by clue scavenger hunt, with bloody footprints leading the way to the next mini-scenario like a trail of breadcrumbs. It’s people searching for the answer to a question and then using that to determine their course of action. The players decide where the story goes based on the evidence. The best part of this is that they won’t ever be wrong. Even if they don’t go to the next obvious place to find the next piece of the puzzle, wherever they go/whatever they do will give them something related to their first inquiry.

Standard investigation game: the players are searching a room for *a* clue. Any clue. The GM gives them a description and the players try and figure out the obvious breadcrumb trail. Sometimes it’s with a search roll or something relevant to the item/location/person being examined (like botany or archeology or library science). If successful, the GM elaborates on the item/person in question, giving them more information that wasn’t originally included in the description. The roll is either binary (yes they find it, no they don’t) or it’s scaled (varying amounts of information tied to the character’s proficiency or die roll or both).

My investigation game: the players ask a specific question and the GM gives them the thing that answers that question. Proficiency determines how much the answer helps to build their case. Example: the players enter a murder scene. What’s the question? Well, in general it’s “Who dunnit?” but that’s too broad. They can begin with a theory or start totally cold. What they need to do is to build a case to support their theory. “How the victim die?” Well that’s known… someone else did the legwork and they just talk to the guy (an easy task because the medical examiner is on their side. “Blunt trauma to the head.” he says, perusing the victim’s crushed skull). The players decide they’re going to go to scene of the crime and ask the next logical question: “What is the murder weapon?” The GM doesn’t give them any more than minimal details about the location until they ask this question and make the appropriate die roll. The players roll well and the GM gives them the murder weapon (a heavy stone paperweight) and a clue about that clue (it has spots of dried blood on it).

Everything is a clue until it’s determined to be irrelevant, nothing is a clue until it’s put into context.

The players can know that yes, this is the murder weapon. The paperweight fits the profile (heavy, hand-held, bludgeoning trauma, available to the victim’s killer). The dried blood is another link in the evidence chain. If they rolled even better you could have more solid evidence (hair fibers stuck to the stone, and/or the paperweight is not on the desk where it should be but is underneath the desk). “Knowing” it was the paperweight doesn’t matter until the case is built. The more facts are known, the more solid the evidence, the more solid the case.

Less is more: too much information is not helpful. Investigation is about discerning what’s important in a sea of noise. Don’t contribute to the noise.

So what if they roll poorly? You can still give them the clue but it’s shaky evidence (“Well, it MIGHT have been this stone paperweight…”) and then the players need to continue exploring that angle (lab tests? fingerprint dusting? smashing gelatin heads and comparing the result to the wound on the victim?). Or you use the lack of evidence as ANOTHER CLUE.

There is an empty space on the desk that catches your eye. Everything is a little dusty but for one roundish spot. The breeze blows in through a window, scattering papers piled on the desk.

This of course leads to a follow up question: “Where is the murder weapon?” Answering this clue will give them the murder weapon but also lead to more questions they can ask, all leading up to the most interesting mysteries:”Who?” and “Why?”

So that’s how I’d do it.

The full bucket

Thursday, March 11th, 2010

Ideas fall like rain in Florida; they are sporadic, inevitable, unpredictable and torrential.

My brain is a bucket. Ideas overfill the brain bucket, spilling out over the sides. My energy, time and desire is a tiny ladle with holes in it. The challenge is to empty that bucket with that meager implement. Whatever I can scoop out fills another bucket: the project. When that bucket is full, the project is done.

That said, I’ve been busy. Rain falls into the brain bucket and I’m feverishly scooping out as quick as I can.

I have two card games I’m working on (“Don’t Burn the Toast!” and “Jungle Ball”), as well as a few more ideas I have yet to start (working title: “License to Kill”). Work continues on FreeMarket but right about now it’s all editing and production… the niggling finish work we have to get done for the summer release.

Speaking of FreeMarket, check the project-donut.com site or the Facebook group for some info on a contest we’re running!

The schedule for GenCon is done and it’s… ambitious. Luke and I will be super busy, in addition to manning our respective booths (and speaking of Manning, HEY MANNING! WELCOME!).

I also have a couple RPGs of my own I’m exploring, not to mention some media licenses that Sorensen/Crane is hoping to develop.

Busy busy busy. I need a bigger ladle.

The Uncomfortable Chair

Friday, February 26th, 2010

Designing an RPG (and I’m talking tabletop, not computer) is like designing an uncomfortable chair. And right after you finish building this uncomfortable chair, you have to convince someone to sit in it. And not just that, you need to teach that person to get other people to sit in the chair as well.

If you do it right, everyone gets something out of the experience. It’s worth the bruising.

If you don’t do it right, nobody will sit in the chair for long, if at all.

The game’s player, if he’s conscious of his own decision making, is going to at some point ask himself, “Is this worth the pain?” If yes, he will keep on keeping on. If not, he’s going to call it quits.

Now, the game’s designer can make the chair less-painful but he can never make it comfortable. I think the best RPG designers are experts in not making less-painful chairs but are adept at distracting the person sitting in that chair from realizing how awkward and painful it is.

Now how’s that for a tortured metaphor?

The Chamber

Friday, February 26th, 2010

Just created a new game experiment and played it over IM with four unsuspecting friends.

It needs context and I need to suss out the details re: the buttons and their functions but here’s how it works:

I pinged four friends who were online with the message: “You there?” and once they all replied, I sent them this message:

You are standing in a square chamber with three other people. They are strangers.

On each wall of the room there is a button.

If you press BUTTON 1, you will earn 5 points.

If you press BUTTON 2, you will earn 3 points.

If you press BUTTON 3, nobody earns any points.

If you press BUTTON 4, the game ends.

If you pass, you earn 1 point.

If two or more people press the same button, that button will not function.

What do you do?

When they chose, I repeated their choice (ie: “You picked button 3″) and made a note to myself what they chose. When all four had made a choice, I announced what happened. In the first round, nothing happened. Two people wanted to end the game, the other two opted to prevent anyone from scoring points. We played two more rounds, each time I altered the functions of the buttons.

Round 2

The buttons have changed.

If you press BUTTON 1, you will earn 3 points.

If you press BUTTON 2, you will earn 3 points.

If you press BUTTON 3, everyone gains 1 point.

If you press BUTTON 4, the game ends.

If you pass, you earn 1 point.

If two or more people press the same button, that button will not function.

What do you do?

Round 3

The buttons have changed.

If you press BUTTON 1, you will earn 10 points.

If you press BUTTON 2, the highest score will lose 2 points.

If you press BUTTON 3, everyone loses 1 point.

If you press BUTTON 4, the game ends.

If you pass, you earn 1 point.

If two or more people press the same button, that button will not function.

What do you do?

At the end (which was prompted by one player pressing button 4, which always ends the game), I announced the final scores. I noticed nobody ever passed their turn to score the 1 point and most often people chose to try and end the game or screw the other players.

You should try this out with your own four random friends and see what happens.

Superheroes and superzeroes

Monday, February 22nd, 2010

Had a dream last night.

I remember wearing a red leather jacket and a mask. I was called either Skunk or the The Skunk and I was some kind of low-tier street vigilante type. I was quick and strong and tough in that generic superhero way but my abilities didn’t really approach superhuman levels.

I was in a warehouse/scientific lab controlled by the Mob. After pilfering a plastic bag filled with white powder (NOT drugs, something to do with the ingredients for a stink spray gun I was working on?), I tried to escape but was intercepted by goons. One of the hilarious bits was when I avoided the goons and while running through the lab’s machine shop, rummaging through all the tools strewn about to get a serviceable weapon. I think I ended up with a big-ass screwdriver and a bolt-cutter but not before I cut myself grabbing a butcher knife that was on a workbench.

I don’t remember much after the subsequent fight scene, save for the ubiquitous hot female villain in the leather outfit who showed up at the end. And scene.

* * * * *

Woke up pondering a character creation system where two players had to collab (Lee & Kirby style) on a superhero character. One does the backstory and the other designs the character’s look.

* * * * *

Which brings me to a current idea. You write your character’s personality traits down in secret and you get experience points at the end of the game if the other players can guess what those traits are. Was thinking about that long review of Phantom Menace and how interviewees could easily describe Han Solo and C-3P0 but were stumped when trying to sum up Qui-Gon Jinn as a character.

* * * * *

I have a cold.

Kirby’s Law of Superhero RPGs

Thursday, February 18th, 2010

The moment you start talking about power levels, you’ve already lost.

Proteans (aka goats, nubs, prots)

Monday, February 8th, 2010

Polymorphous, atavistic hybrids, bioengineered by an unknown, alien intelligence. The creatures were designed to be used as ground troops and for manual labor. Their cellular structure is highly malleable, influenced by the ecological system where they are introduced. Proteans are born inside corms, life-support pods that house their bodies during interstellar travel. While inside the corm the protean is not yet fully formed and exists in a state of suspension where cellular decay is halted.

Early experiments revealed that the nascent protean’s body is amoeboid in shape, possessing a rudimentary humanoid shape but without much in the way of features or definition. When dropped onto a planet’s surface, the corm feeds environmental data into the protean via a conductive fluid that surrounds the creature. We do not yet understand how this data is transmitted nor how it is absorbed by the protean. The end result is that the corm programs the creatures DNA and this determines the creature’s ultimate form. Because of size constraints, the proteans are birthed at a roughly humanoid size but may grow larger as they age.

Development of the newborn protean into an adult occurs at a highly accelerated pace. Protean embyros are globules of organic matter kept in cryogenic suspension. Once thawed, the globule may be manipulated to induce mitosis, allowing for an exponential increase in the supply of protean DNA. Once thawed, the embryonic globule must be housed in a corm or it will be rendered nonviable. The most curious trait of the protean is that it may be returned to its corm and “decompiled” back into a prenatal state. This process takes up to a year to complete and effectively kills the creature inside.

The terrestrial form of the protean on Earth is called a “goat”: a bipedal humanoid, approximately two meters tall with slight variances. They possess honeycombed bone structures and dense muscles, making them strong and agile. Protean goats are named as such due to the short horns that grow from their foreheads. A smaller pair of nubs grows from the creature’s lower jaw and erupts from its chin. Goats are red-green color blind and light sensitive, causing many to adopt tinted goggles to protect their eyes from UV rays. Hearing is slightly better than a human’s but their sense of smell and taste is muted.  Goats aspirate through their mouths and a fluted, nostril-like orifice. They have a large lung capacity and are at home in low oxygen, high altitude environments. They display discomfort in humid or polluted conditions and wear respirator masks to assist in breathing. Their skin tones are pale and body hair is fine and sparse. The most unusual features are their long arms, allowing them to ambulate using their hoof-like hands and feet. Goat hands are not especially dextrous, their most obvious handicap. Each hand is comprised of an opposable thumb-like appendage, a finger approximating a human index finger, and a horned “hoof” that can be walked or used as a blunt tool but not for fine manipulation. Goats curl their thumb and forefinger up and use the hoof-hand for locomotion. Using this method, they have a loping, quadrupedal gait and can move rapidly, albeit ungainly.