But now I feel that fling coming to an end (again?). The big kicker for me this time are the jolting unnatural transitions between the game’s core modes of play. In no other tabletop game do the words “Okay, everyone, roll for initiative” make me cringe so deeply. The switchover from Talk-Time to Fight-Time is so drastic, sudden, and severe that it breaks me out of my imaginative reverie and reminds me that yes, I really am only here to grind mobs for XP.

Consider these transitions as if they were part of a Japanese video RPG. These games have three basic modes. In Exploration Mode you move Your Guy around a typically disproportionately-represented dungeon, town, or world map. Sometimes you interact with the scenery when exclamation points appear above Your Guy’s head. Sometimes you talk to other NPCs in the game setting, most of which just repeat the same lines of dialog every time you select the talk command.

Sometimes while in Exploration Mode, the screen will suddenly and violently shift into a miasma of geometrically-swirling trippy colors and patterns, and after a few seconds you will find yourself in Battle Mode. In Battle Mode, your characters all line up perfectly along one side of the screen, usually looping through idle-battle animations (the usual leg-bendy motions of which would probably just destroy the quads of any real human) while waiting for you to give them commands. Once the commands are given, they take turns first leaping into the fray to strike at an enemy and then leaping back perfectly to their initial starting position in the battle line-up. You continue to give commands, they continue to leap back and forth, and the positioning continues to remain unchanged.

The third mode is Cutscene Mode, in which all of the rules of the game are thrown right out and sometimes shat upon, all for the same of “compelling” story. Over the course of the game, Your Guy might be pelted with hundreds of thousands of bullets in Battle Mode sequences, but if they are hit by a single errant gunshot in Cutscene Mode, it usually means lights out for Your Guy. And on the opposite end of the spectrum, in Cutscene Mode Your Guy will frequently perform feats of skill and power that you can only dream of actually using in the other modes – feats that the actual game rules have no way to handle with fair application of mathematics.

Considering these three typical game modes, JRPGs and D&D 4E have a lot in common. In fact, I’d go so far as to state that 4th Edition has more in common with JRPGs than it ever did with MMORPGs, contrary to what many of its detractors continue to complain (whether this is good or bad is a matter of personal tastes). Exploration Mode is what is frequently called “Story Mode” or “Role-Play Mode” in the current gamut of tabletop games. In here you role-play a bit, seek out some narrative goals (which can frequently be missed by bad spot checks), talk to important people to gain clues, and maybe roll a Climb or Diplomacy check. But the moment there’s any kind of two-or-more-person conflict, the screens of imagination swirl and heavy metal music starts playing, breaking the immersion and throwing you into Battle Mode.

Battle Mode in JRPGS and Combat Encounters in D&D 4E are virtually identical: immutable rules, everyone waiting their turn to act, numerically-set battle order sequences (initiative), repetitive animations (a limited array of prescribed actions), static positioning (characters just standing face-to-face whacking at each other). Sure D&D gives you some nifty, colorful, and mechanically diverse options, but when you break them down they are just combinations of hit point damage and status effects – and most “big bads” have status resistances so goddamned high that they might as well be immune (like every boss in ever JRPG ever).

Cutscene Mode, then, equals the well-known Rule Zero. Personally, I despise Rule Zero, and I view its inclusion in a product as a sure sign of shoddy game design, but that’s a subject for another discussion. You should all know what Rule Zero I’m talking about: that one rule that’s in just about every game master’s section of just about every tabletop role-playing game in publication. It’s that rule telling the GM to break these rules whenever he really wants to. It’s that rule that invalidates all the other rules of the game. It can destroy character builds, obliterate well-crafted plans, and transform the dice we employ and cherish into a complete sham. It turns pages of rules like “you can’t do this action in this circumstance, ever” and “this rule is always true” and “2+2=4″ into mere suggestions, guesses, and poorly-tested options.

The Cut Scene/Rule Zero allows the GM to break the game, basically. It allows things like this to happen:

GM: “Sure, I know each bullet only does 2d6 damage, Bob, and you’ve got 371 hit points. But we’re out of combat right now, and this bad guy’s pointing a gun at you, so I need you to roleplay that you’re scared, okay?”

Cut Scene Mode tries to draw you out of the physics-ignoring rules of Battle Mode and reinforce the rules and dangers of Real Actual Life. But when the rules of the game’s primarily-advertised Battle Mode so drastically clash with the rules of Real Actual Life, Cut Scene Mode is often difficult to swallow. This is especially true for the kinds of players who like to manipulate and manage the rules of the game.

Like in JRPGs, the transitions between these modes in D&D 4E are so severe and obvious that they grate on me. Every time a GM tells me to Roll for Initiative, I shudder and snap out of the moment I was just in. Whenever combat pauses to allow the Big Bad his five-minute-long speech, the sickness grows inside me. When the GM narrates that the boss gets away despite us pumping his body with more bullets than exist in the state of Texas, just because he wants the should-be-dead villain to return later, I die a little inside.

It’s like there are multiple games being played here which don’t interact all that smoothly with each other. Wizards of the Coast did a good thing when they unified the core dice mechanic with 3rd Edition. There were a lot of disjointed math systems that clashed violently in the older editions. Smoothing those into a single mechanic and a single numerical goal horizon was a smart move. Good job with that.

Now would you guys please fix those hideous play-mode seams that you left behind?

Afterword

For more amusing readings on the clash between game play and role-play, check out this link.

Thankfully, one of the players knew the system very well. His presence was welcome, and I’m very grateful for all the assistance that he provided me with in figuring out how to play the game – and I’m pretty embarrassed to admit that I really did need a lot of assistance with it. I’ll say it now: I believe that D&D 4th Edition is not an easy game for brand new players. But even worse, I’ll risk stating that I don’t think it’s all that easy for experienced players of other tabletop systems, either. I’m pretty good at picking up and learning systems on the get-go, and this one gave me problems. At one point in the evening, I made a comment about how I sound like “the gaming girlfriend” of the session, because in truth that’s exactly how I felt. “What’s this mean?” and “What do I roll?” and “Now what do I add?” and “What should I do here?” were questions frequently issued from my lips. I was very confused by a lot of the terminology and the mathematical variables, and at the beginning of the game I felt a bit overwhelmed by the myriad of mechanical options available to me right from the start. Don’t get me wrong here, I love having lots of options in game mechanics, but this was a bit much for me to comfortably interpret right at the get-go.

So who is this game good for? C’mon, you know it’s coming: people who enjoy Massively Multiplayer Online RPGs, aka MMORPGS. It’s very obvious in just about every nook and cranny of the system, from the character “roles” to the “per encounter” abilities and the character ability development chart. In fact, it really wasn’t until I started imagining my character’s various abilities in “quick slots” on an invisible HUD that I actually started to really get the feel of the game’s proper flow. It takes a certain kind of mind to be able to enjoy video games like World of Warcraft and Everquest and the like. You have to be able to find enjoyment and comfort in repetition. You have to have a mind for the long-term planning of effective character builds. You have to be able to appreciate the frequent grind (kill monsters to get loot to get more powerful to kill bigger monsters, repeat) as a part of the gameplay experience. I can appreciate these things, but only in small doses. It’s why I’ve never been able to tolerate a MMORPG for more than a few weeks, and why I don’t think the D&D 4th Edition game system will have a long-lasting appeal for me. I can see enjoying it with the current gaming group just because they are all four some spot-on awesome guys, but in the long run, there isn’t any actual substance to it, just a lot of dice rolling and character-building.

To me, the whole focus on “builds” in video games and tabletop games like 3rd and 4th Edition D&D is thematically antagonistic to the focus of their predecessors. In 1st and 2nd edition AD&D, for example, you could play without worrying about “burning feats” and wasting character points and such, and generally just pick up and play. Likewise, in the video games that followed them, such as the fantastic Baldur’s Gate and Icewind Dale series, you could make a character and just start playing, and take that character wherever you wanted without worrying about making wasteful decisions. Supposedly, having the option to “build” a character gives the player more control over the character’s direction and development. Instead, however, I find that this extra level of “control” comes at the cost of the player being ultimately less able to actually enjoy their character at any point Right Now. With such a huge focus on builds, you are rarely (if ever) playing the character you want to play, instead playing the character who will be the character you want to play after she gains a handful of additional experience levels. The player is always thinking a level or three ahead, and never “Man, I’m great right now!” The only times they find their actual character to be awesome seem to be when they are, much later, regaling their friends with tales of those characters’ exploits. “Jam tomorrow, Jam yesterday, but never ever Jam today,” so to speak.

I’ve heard a few other gamers state how they feel that this focus on builds in the current crop of major tabletop RPGs is in large due to increasing influences from the mechanics being so popular in video RPGs of the current day. If this is the case, then what is next? There was a time when finding “secret information” on video games was rare and difficult, and the exclusive domain of expensive mail-ordered strategy guides and platform-specific insider magazine subscriptions. But today, with the prevalence of the internet in our world, you’d be hard-pressed to pick a popular game, even a brand-new one, and not be able to look online for one or more fan-made walk-throughs and secrets guides. Are our tabletop games going this direction, too? Will game companies start publishing hardbound supplements in the $20+ range that are nothing but “FAQs” to their previously-published adventures? WotC’s already tried that at least once before. Will upcoming GM advice books start suggesting that GMs print sealed cheat sheets for the players, so the poor fellas don’t have to worry about thinking to hard and wasting valuable killing-time trying to solve the more difficult puzzles on their own?

But back to the game. Once I started getting the hang of things, I got some ideas for the future (the campaign is supposed to be round-robin GMing, by the way). I half-jokingly voiced how I’d like to run a session without any combat at all, however, and a player commented how that would be the most boring D&D game to ever exist. This startled me. What about the “RP” part of the acronym? Sure, combat is fun, and I wasn’t even serious about that little joke. I admit to needing at least a tiny bit of action to spice my drama up. But if the real reason we’re here is to just kill ‘em all and take their stuff, then why the pretense of roleplaying? When it boils down to it, what does a character’s alignment and his complex, sordid past really have to do with the combat? Why are we even giving the characters names anymore? Do we just call them something unique like K1LLsT4bbEr187 so our teammates will have an icon to click on when targeting their spells? Or has roleplaying just been reduced to the “…and take their stuff” part of the equation?

I wondered at that point: why are we even playing a tabletop roleplaying game, then? There are plenty of minis combat games which handle Battle Mat Skirmishes far more effectively and dramatically: Warhammer, Warmachine, Heroclix, even D&D Minis all have superior minis combat rules. To me, a roleplaying game is not just about killing things and getting loot. Puzzles, dramatics, intrigue, plot and more, these are and always have been crucial parts of good roleplaying games. When I mentioned these other features of what I considered to be a “good game,” I believe the response was something along the lines of leaving those things for the “story games.” Wha-huh? I’ve only been playing “story games” for a year or so now, but I’ve been gaming since I was eight years old. Almost all of my earliest and fondest gaming memories involved great puzzles, dramatic debates with the rulers of kingdoms, kidnappings of princesses, ancient tomes of dark power, and many more elements of Fantasy Roleplaying that were outside of combat – and these were in super-combat-heavy games like Rifts, RoleMaster, and AD&D 1st Edition.

Today, it seems that all semblances of plot and dramatics have been officially relegated to the so-called “Story Games,” leaving more traditional big name games as little more than Combat Sims with some extra fiddly bits tacked-on. Even my favorite major system of them all, Savage Worlds, isn’t much more than a minis combat game. The only real difference is that it actually makes a valiant attempt at emphasizing the importance of story and non-combat play and how crucial they are to fantastic games. 4th Ed, not so much. If ever I do end up running a session or two of this campaign, I will include a little combat, for sure. But I will also do my damnedest to take it in a different direction, at least for a short run. I’d like to have NPCs that aren’t there just to be arrow cozies. I’d have encounters that could only be overcome by running away (and of course gaining experience). I’d have flashbacks, and cut scenes, and more.

Oh wait, that’s a story game. Silly me, what was I thinking?

- NPC
- is still astounded at how most gamers can easily accept “the dice say your character’s leg is severed,” but get outraged when I dare to suggest “the dice say the woman has changed your mind.”

On Video Games

Last night on a whim I pulled Bethany’s copy of Primal off the shelf and gave it a spin through the PS3. My soon-to-follow reaction: why the hell have I not heard of this game before? The gameplay is pretty fantastic, aside from a handful of control lags here and there, and I really love games with well-implemented buddy mechanics and associated puzzles (especially those of the non-ridiculous type). My favorite part? Getting to hear one of the last performances by the extremely talented, late and lamented Andreas Katsulas, as the game protagonist’s gargoyle companion Skree. Rest in Peace, G’Kar.

I’ll likely post a more in-depth review of it after I give it some more quality play time.

Also, Capcom has leaked that the controls for the new Resident Evil 5 game may actually include side-stepping and shoot-while-moving features. This, of course, excites me. The lack of such features is why I still can’t stand the gameplay of Resident Evil 4, and I’m sure that including them in the new game will ensure that Bethany and I will be playing it co-op for many, many hours.

On RPGs

Green Ronin has said “Hell naw” to the 4th Edition “Game System License.” Read about it here. This really excites me, perhaps more than it should. I admit that I get a perverse joy whenever I see a producer of such high-quality games say “no thanks, jerkstore” to Wizards of the Coast’s new crappostulous 4th Edition D&D game system and super-restrictive new game license:

We do not, however, feel that this license treats third party publishers as valued partners. Under its terms WotC could frivolously sue a signatory for supposed violations of the GSL, lose the actual court case, and still ruin the winning company because the license specifies that the signatory has to pay WotC’s legal fees. Also, the GSL can be changed at any time and WotC is not legally required to so much as inform its licensees.

Let me be clear in stating that I don’t think that the people in charge of WotC currently are just waiting to attack companies with frivolous lawsuits. Once you sign the GSL though, you open yourself up to that at any point in the future. Who knows when new people will take over the D&D brand and who can say what their vision will be? Who knows when the political winds at WotC will change again and things will get even more restrictive? We do not want to operate under such a cloud moving ahead so that’s why we won’t be signing the GSL.

Personally, I’m really badly hoping that Green Ronin decides to take their upcoming new Song of Ice and Fire RPG system and run like the wind with it. My Free RPG Day experience with it (I should AP report that soon, too) was fantastic, and I see a lot of promise with the game. Now, all I need to hear is news that both Privateer Press and Fantasy Flight Games will be making the same decision, and my geek shall indeed look big in this skirt.

Other Stuff

I have a feeling that a new edition of the Pizza Snob will be posted today or tomorrow.