Magic and Science

One of the things that makes talking about science and magic and how they interact is that people often mean different things when they say "science." For the most part, they're talking about 3 different things which I will call Science, Technology, and Physics. The words may not be technically accurate, but they'll do for discussion purposes.

Science: By Science, I am not referring to our bulk of scientific knowledge (that's covered in the other two areas), but instead the scientific method. The method of poking and prodding at some phenomena or other in order to learn more about the universe we live in.

Technology: Technology is specifically the plethora of devices that we create utilizing scientific principles. From the electric can opener to the Large Hadron Collider, this is what I'm talking about.

Physics: By Physics, I'm referring to the physical laws of the universe and how we perceive the physical world to work.

For the most part, I believe that magic should respond to Science. Even if it doesn't bow to the same physical laws, it does follow some rules. Especially if we are trying to encapsulate it in game rules. If magic doesn't make sense, or is overly capricious, no player would ever use it.

Magic does not have a special relationship with Technology, anymore than it does Science. Some designers and novelists like to invoke the idea that magic and technology are not compatible, having one or the other start to fizzle out in the presence of the other. Usually magic frying technology, but I have seen instances of magic fading in the presence of technology. But I don't see a strong need to reinforce this. One of the fun parts of a gonzo setting is taking all the varying bits and seeing how they fit together.

Magic and Physics are where things get tricky. Especially when finicky players try to incorporate their knowledge (or at least strong opinions) about Physics in order to get some extra effect out of a spell. Ultimately, I want to design the magic rules for BTR so that they will stand up to that kind of scrutiny, while at the same time allowing for the Roger Rabbit Effect ("Do you mean to tell me that you could have slipped out of that cuff at any time?" "Not at any time! Only when it was funny!").

The Spock Effect

Sean "Dr. Kromm" Punch coined the term "The Spock Effect" while discussing the psionics rules for GURPS. Specifically, his reasoning for the significant revisions to those rules for the 4th edition of GURPS.

The Spock Effect, bluntly put, is when a character or character type has significant abilities or powers that are supposed to be balanced by behavior restrictions or other elements of characterization. While it works fine in a story, it tends to be a real pain in a game. Because all the upsides are things that show up on a character sheet as things that a player can use (and expects to be able to use) while the downsides of the character type generally don't show up on a character sheet at all. (While GURPS actually gives points back for taking a mental or social disadvantage, none were required to use psionics in previous editions. So the balancing elements that they were relying on didn't really exist.)

The standard fantasy paladin is actually a good example of this. Lots of cool powers predicated on the character maintaining a particular alignment. And we've all heard the stories of the player of the murderous and otherwise evil paladin, who wanted all of the power but none of the responsibilities of being a paladin.

A couple of the major character types in Rifts also grant awesome power with some fairly minor or avoidable costs. Juicers are a pretty good example of this. Incredible physical abilities balanced by a fairly limited lifespan. I wonder if anyone has ever actually had a Juicer character end up dying of natural causes. Between GMs that might not keep strict calendars, campaigns that don't last that long, or all of the other things that are trying to kill you on Rifts Earth, I can easily see this 5 year limit as no big deal.

Dragons are another example of this sort of not-really-limited power. As near as I can tease out, the primary restrictions on dragon characters are that they are supposed to be really young and therefore played with a touch of naivete, and also the fact that the Coalition is anti-magic and even in human form a dragon would set off all sorts of magic detectors.

Here's what I'm looking for from the peanut gallery: Are these "soft" downsides actually useful in your campaign? Any horror stories of characters ignoring the restrictions and running roughshod over your campaigns? Have you strengthened any of these restrictions to give them more weight (I read somewhere about a GM who required Juicer characters to have to continually replenish their drug supplies)? Or you ignore them entirely with no ill effect on your game at all?

The Role of the GM

For the majority of my gaming career, I've been a GM. I'm sure a number of you have been in the same situation. Everybody wants to game, but no one wants to GM. So one guy gets stuck doing it. And that guy has usually been me.

It doesn't help matters that I like a lot of different games. So even if one or two other people I know are willing to run D&D or some other game, if I have a new game I want to try out, I'm the one who has to run it.

And with all those games, I've read a lot of GM advice. A lot of it is the same, so you are forgiven if you skip over the GM section in the games that you buy. But I find it continually useful. At very least, it gives me a broader perspective on the various jobs that a GM is called upon to do. Tips for running different genres, writing adventures vs. building a sandbox, and so on.

One of the other things I find useful is that, especially with the more indie-style systems, the designer takes the time to talk about what they want you to get out of their game. Not always explicitly, but it's there.*

Then I contrast this with how the Rifts line supports its GMs. The Rifts Main Book dedicates less than 8 pages to the Game Masters Section. Most of it is a compact bestiary with quick-roll monster tables and simple pre-generated opponents.

The Rifts Game Master Guide fills most of its pages with a comprehensive index of rules. Races, classes and equipment from every Rifts book available at the time of publication. A useful thing, to be sure. With the astonishing breadth of the setting, having all of that stuff in one place can be darn handy.

If there's a theme here, it's that these materials presume that you already know how to run a game. So they skip past the old "How to GM" stuff and go straight into providing things to help a GM turn their ideas into action. And I do want to reaffirm that there's nothing wrong with that.

My big question here is: How much support does a Rifts GM need? Do they get it? Is there some bit of GMing advice that you wish was in one of the books, but isn't? Was there something you wish you had been told when you first started running a Palladium game? Would a "How to GM" section of the book have been useful, either to show you how to run a game (as a beginner) or to tell you how to make the Palladium system sing (as a more experienced GM)?

One of the things that I strongly believe in as a GM is The Power of No.  Even if something is in the book, even if the designers claim that it's balanced. If it's something that I don't want in my campaign, I will not include it.

*I know there's a camp out there that says "Who cares what the designer wants me to get out of their game? Once it hits my table, it becomes my game to do with as I please." I'm not going to stop them from having fun playing games their way. But as a designer and a guy who believes that System Matters, I'm only going to speak for myself on this one.

RAW/IMC

When talking about most RPGs via the internet, players generally focus on the RAW or Rules As Written. Since every game table is different, focusing on the one thing all players share, the rulebooks, makes a lot of sense.

The Palladium system is a bit different. Because nobody truly plays with the Rules As Written. In some cases, it's because the mechanics are broken, poorly explained, or both. In other cases, the rules and setting don't mesh as neatly as they should. And then there are the times when the books are oddly silent on certain subjects.

What you get instead is a lot of IMC, or In My Campaign. For those times when the books don't have an answer, individual GMs and players step up to the challenge. Sometimes it's simple tweaks or filling in minor details. Other times, entirely new races, occupations, or even subsystems emerge at the table.

I've been wrestling with this mostly as I try to understand the economy of Rifts Earth. You see, the prices in every Rifts book I own are given in credits. So my assumption is that this is a standard currency throughout the setting. But every time I get into a discussion with Rifts players on the topic, they tell me how silly that assumption is.

And they're right. It's a silly assumption. A balkanized world like Rifts Earth would not have such a unified economy that a single currency would be accepted everywhere. But nowhere in the RAW (at least what I've seen) is this contradicted. So individual GMs have stepped up and devised their own currencies and conversions.

Gold and other precious metals work rather well as "universal currency" in fantasy games. Unlike paper (or electronic) money, gold is valuable in itself. It doesn't matter whose face is stamped on the coin, as long as it's gold. Without that intrinsic value, the only thing that gives paper money worth is the face printed on it. And that only goes as far as people trust that face.

The other issue I find is that there are very few mundane prices. I know Rifts is about having awesome adventures and dialing everything up to ELEVEN!, but giving me an idea of what it means to be a normal person in this setting is valuable. For one thing, it helps me be aware of exactly how awesome I am. When I have a million credits, is that equivalent to having a million dollars or a million yen?

It also opens up other campaign options. Rather than assuming that the PCs are a party of wandering adventurers, let's say I want to do a stationary campaign. The party is a band of locals who protect a small town from the predations of the Coalition and/or the Xiticix, or maybe it's near a nexus and Rifts spill out trouble like a bar at closing time. Or maybe my game is "D-Bee Hospital" and the party is made up of Cyber-Docs and Body Fixers who treat anyone who comes through their doors.

Suddenly, the PCs aren't foraging to survive, but are drawing steady paychecks for their labor. They have bills to pay. A GM who wants to run that sort of campaign doesn't have a lot to go on. Now Rifts GMs are notoriously industrious (and mad props for that!), but it would be nice if the game were better able to support them.

The big question is: How did things get to be this way? A few things jump out at me.

Excessive familiarity with the material. If you've been playing a game for a long time, there comes a point where you know the rulebook by heart. If you've been publishing and writing for the same system for a long time, your eyes glaze over as the rules pass before your eyes. You become less critical of critical portions of the rulebook because it's all stuff you've seen a million times already. So stuff slips by.

Gamer elitism. RPGs, especially in the old-school era, had a reputation for being obtusely written. Gamers took special pride in being able to decode the rulebooks. (One letter to Dragon magazine during the development of 2e D&D urged the designers to retain THAC0 and descending AC to ensure that only smart people would be able to play it.) If some of that decoding required filling in some blanks, so be it.

And none of this is to say that Palladium games are unplayable. Many people do play them and have fun doing so.

I think a big chunk of the reason that there will never be a proper Rifts 2e is that the community surrounding the game is as balkanized as Rifts Earth. Everyone is basically playing their own version of the game. And they've been doing it their way for so long that they don't want a serious revision telling them that they're doing it wrong. (Because they're not.) Those who do want a serious revision are similarly stymied as they try and decide which revisions to make. So many players want their tweaks and revisions to become canon that it can be difficult to choose.

Comments are open.

Game Imbalance Is More Fun!

I've been doing some thinking on the role of game balance in old school play. That's when I realized that part of the point of old school gaming was game imbalance.

I've written before about the old school ideal of immersion and how it's facilitated by the lack of rules. The other thing that facilitates immersion is game imbalance. Specifically, power imbalance between the PCs and the opposition. In old-school D&D, a first level character was a nobody, little better than his 0-level brethren. With single-digit hit points, magic users wielding 1 spell per day, and a bonus to hit only if you're lucky, that first level party can't count on the numbers to save them. They need immersion to give themselves every tactical advantage if they wanted to survive to second level.

KS tries to sell Rifts and other Palladium games as "thinking man's games", and that's true to a degree. I can readily imagine some early 90's Palladium gamers who's GM just bought Rifts. Up to that point, it was a fantasy campaign, or maybe Heroes Unlimited. They've got a few levels and are killing orcs/beating up thugs with alacrity. Then they find themselves on Rifts Earth. Suddenly, their SDC-level abilities don't matter for much. That super-tough guy with the scads of SDC and armor and stuff? 1 or 2 hit points on the MDC scale. 3 if he's lucky.

Suddenly, those characters who thought they were top dogs have been knocked down a notch. Time to start thinking. Time for immersion. Time for roleplay.

All well and dandy until the surviving party members (and the native characters that wound up replacing the dead ones) get their hands on MDC gear. Once they level the playing field, now the GM has to up the ante yet again. It's kind of telling that the first Rifts Worldbook details creatures that are functionally immune to MD.

So what does this mean for BTR? Does this mean that I'm throwing out all notions of game balance? No. Balance between characters is one of my priorities. The ability for every character type to be awesome and relevant is very important to me. But one thing I am definitely not including is a method of encounter balance. And I can definitely see putting some advice in the GM section advocating putting the players out of their element in order to keep them on their toes.

Something Old, Something New

Okay, now that I've laid out some of the major differences between old school and new school gaming the question becomes: What am I designing for: Old school or new school?

The simple answer is: New school, while keeping respect for the old school. One of the big criticisms that has been leveled at Palladium is that they are no longer competitive. Not just in terms of the rate that new material is produced, but also in their ability to keep up with the rest of the gaming industry. Say what you like about "forsaking the old in favor of the new and shiny" or "keeping up with the Joneses of gaming", it is costing Palladium customers, and it's that customer that I'm trying to catch with BTR.

The new school "web" approach also helps us avoid one of those old-school traps: The spot rule. I talked about this briefly last month, when I mentioned "rulings that become rules." Along with the inconsistency I mentioned last month, these rules tend to turn up scattered throughout the various books whenever the designer thinks they should apply. There's a spot rule for muscle atrophy under the Glitter Boy OCC in order to justify forcing the pilot out of the Glitter Boy every now and again. The entire set of Crazy Hero tables from Heroes Unlimited (a game I found surprisingly limited) were reproduced as part of the Crazy OCC.

The old school concept of "fair play" makes it very difficult to talk about game balance. Because real life is not fair, the claim goes, there should be no expectation that the game world will be fair either. I would like to point out at this time that real life is also not fun or optional. Since most people have a choice regarding what they do in their free time, they will tend to focus on things that are fun.

And I'm not going to say that randomly rolled stats aren't fun. I think some of the most fun I've had has been playing a Paladin with randomly rolled and not terribly great stats. Although D&D these days lets you place stat rolls where you like, a Paladin character has a lot of bases to cover and something had to give. I wound up putting my low rolls in Strength and Intelligence. That character was a blast to play and it's a shame that the campaign fell apart when it did.

What I will say is that there's a big difference between rolling an 8 or an 18 for PS and playing an SDC or MDC scale character. Especially since the latter is a player choice. The reason that Glitter Boys and Juicers are so popular that they wind up getting new variants and books devoted to them (as opposed to Vagabonds or Rogue Scholars) is because those classes are powerful enough that players are going to pick them over most others.

The other case that people try to make against game balance is that it attempts to make everyone the same. And that's just not true. Game balance thrives on difference. Even D&D4, the most rigorously balanced game to call itself an RPG, was built around a party composed of characters with different specialties (Striker, Controller, Leader, Defender).

A useful definition of game balance is: A game is balanced when every character has an equal and fair chance to participate in the game's primary activity. But in order for that to be useful, we have to discover the game's primary activity. In a game of Vampire: The Requiem, the primary activity is sucking blood and making moral choices.  In D&D, through all of its editions, it is fairly easy to pick out the game's primary activity: Combat. Each class in the game is built to ensure that it has something to do in a combat scene.

The Palladium house system, as a fantasy heartbreaker, shares this feature with D&D. While it is significantly expanded from its roots, the focus on combat has not changed. Much more print space is given to weapons, armor, and vehicles than other items of utility or interest. So naturally, those character types that are more able to kick ass in various ways are going to be more strongly favored.

A slightly more "indie" variant of the definition of game balance is: A game is balanced when every character has an equal and fair chance to be awesome. The value of this definition is that is doesn't assume a "primary activity." In fact, in many of the more indie RPGs, players can choose or create the primary activity for their character and have the means to be awesome doing it. White Wolf's Exalted RPG as well as Evil Hat's Spirit of the Century both allow players to choose powers (Charms for Exalted, Stunts for Spirit) that can amplify any skill a player chooses to a point of epic awesomeness. Even skills like Bureaucracy or Art can be elevated in this way.

So part of the mission of BTR is not just to mitigate the power of the physical powerhouses, but to make character types like the Rogue Scholar fun to play.

Fans and Critics

The buzz has surely died down by now, but I wanted to take the time to make a well-thought out comment (part of why you read this blog, I hope).

Right about 2 weeks ago, KS posted an "informal survey" that he had conducted among fans and varying employees about the how the company was doing. Since the general vibe of this was "Keep on keepin' on, KS!" many people in the gaming community (including members of the Palladium forums) cried foul. The two main complaints seem to be that KS only asked people with a vested interest in keeping him happy, and that the survey was so informal and unscientific that its results could not be relied upon.

The official response to this doubt must be read to be truly believed. He opens with befuddlement. I can almost imagine a cat macro with a kitten looking piteously into the camera "Y U no Liek gud nooz?" Then it shifts into betrayal rage at all of the people who he thought were fans (including one uber-fan whom he calls out by name) who clearly aren't because they had the temerity to doubt his survey.

He also details some means that Palladium is supposedly looking into so that they can finally experience some growth. My guess is that these moves are just like the Palladium fan page on Facebook: Something they were trying to avoid as long as possible while pretending to "work on it" but ultimately got shamed by the fans into actually doing.

So as much as the "fan" numbers were telling him to "keep on keepin' on", the actual fans want him to be doing more to promote and advance Palladium as a company.

Watching this play out both on the Palladium Forums and RPG.net makes me want to take a slightly closer look at fans and critics. Because the Palladium "party line" seems to indicate that you have to be one or the other. You can't be both.

Now, I'm a publisher, too. I don't talk about my published work because it's not often germane to the things that I'm talking about over on this blog. It's a neat little indie thing that is designed for an entirely different demographic than BTR is. Check it out!

Speaking as a publisher, I consider my critics to be some of my best friends. Firstly because they are people who are not me who are talking about my game. Free advertising is worth its weight in gold. Really. Secondly, critics tell me what I'm doing right and what I'm doing wrong. For example, my game has gotten a couple of reviews that pointed out that the magic system didn't really work (They loved the game otherwise, so I think I'm doing okay). So I looked, and sure enough, the magic system was missing a key rule. So I updated the PDF versions of the game (both the one that I sell direct to customers and the one that I have printed into book form) and released an errata notice via the blog for that game.

One poster on the RPG.net thread made a very interesting point: In order to criticize, especially with the vehemence that Palladium critics do, you have to care. And the other posters seemed to confirm this. Several of them, in fact, were ex-fans. Some of them were introduced to gaming via Palladium products, but then found other games that did what they wanted more easily. Or some other action on the part of the company made them decide never to give the company money ever again. (Like the infamous Cease & Desist policy on fan publication.)


I think that if Palladium is going to grow and thrive, it needs critics at least as much as it needs fans. It needs criticism and it needs to listen and learn from that criticism rather than using it as an excuse to circle the wagons even tighter. Especially since the circle is so small there's not room for everyone within it.