Reporting Back: Game Design In 48 Minutes

5 10 2009

This Saturday, I ran a game design panel with Brad Murray, one of the authors of Diaspora. We were surprised and delighted to fill every chair in the room. Granted, there were 15 chairs in the room. I’d like to share my outline and discuss how the conversation unfolded, because I think it worked really well. The text in italics is the stuff on the outline we handed out, and the plain-face text is my post-panel thoughts.

1.) Designs Should Have A Guiding Vision (2 minutes)

The plan: In general, discuss the idea of designing a game to deliver a certain set of goals. What does your game do, in terms of… stories, characters, setting, situation, mechanics, play experience?

After opening with some introductions, we dived into the idea that a game should have a guiding vision, that it should seek to deliver something specific. Although this might be a Forge-centric idea, we didn’t discuss it in a Forge-centric way – Vampire: the Requiem has a guiding vision, and that is a major boon to the game. Introducing this idea not as revolutionary, but as something intrinsic to all design work, was helpful in unifying our audience.

2.) Take An Audience Game Pitch, Answer “The Big 3″ (7 minutes)

Audience Pitch: What is your game about? Now, what is it really about?
What is your game about? What do the characters do? What do the players do?

We asked the audience members to share a game idea that someone was working on, that we could workshop throughout the discussion. One guy put forward an idea that he said “wasn’t really a roleplaying game, but more of a baseball simulation exercise”. We took that and ran with it. The guy’s game was a two-player game: pitcher vs batting line-up.

We asked him what his game was about (baseball simulation), then dove into what interested him about baseball simulation to get at what the game was really about (the tension and the psychological mind games at work between the batter and pitcher). We presented the “big three” (what is your game about? what do the characters do? what do the players do?), and learned that both character & player are locked in the mind game component. We probed to find out what else the players do, and learned that they managed resources (batting line-ups, fan support, mechanical resources).

3.) Mechanics Should Support What The Game Is About (10 minutes)


Discuss the notion that mechanics support what the game is about, and structure an intended experience. Talk about things that the designer could do to facilitate their goals. Be sure to question the necessity of given mechanics:
Do you need a GM? How about stats? Do you need dice? If so, why? Audience Pitch: What system/mechanics will support this design?

Here, we had about a 15-minute round-table, exploring mechanics that would supporting the evolving game. The discussion came around to the use of decks of playing cards, with suits representing different tactics and the number representing effectiveness. We introduced the idea that the players would take the deck of cards and from it build a deck of ~30 cards (so that if I want to throw lots of curveballs, I take all the clubs and widdle down on the other suits) – this would be part of the resource management aspect.

We had a boon in this game in that we were STARTING OUT with a GMless design, built for only two players. We were miles ahead of the curve to begin with. However, that let us focus on even more interesting questions: do you need a random element in your game to simulate how random the situation in the fiction is? In the end, we ditched the necessity for dice in determining whether batting was successful, though we integrated a secret card-bidding element.

At the tail end of this conversation, I tossed out a question: would there be a “you can’t focus because your wife is having an affair” card? The audience cheered that idea on, and the idea that hearts would correspond to out-of-game dramas was introduced.

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City Spirits

29 09 2009

A friend of mine, Jackson Tegu, has spoken several times about the notion of city spirits – that every city (or more generally, every place) carries with it some essence, quintessential quality, or spirit. That a place can be generous, or selfish. That people in a given place will often feel as if they are taken care of, or supported, or neglected, or quieted, as if by the place itself.

This could be looked at differently, in terms of localized culture, or in terms of social networks. There are countless models & perspectives for breaking down how places are unique. But it’s interesting and perhaps useful to think of places as having an essential spirit, an essential meaning.

I’ve been working on this game design lately, called The Night It Died. It’s about how communities end – what their members go through, how cliques break apart, what gets built as the flame flickers out, and what remains afterwards. And I’ve been struggling to build something that felt right. The essential dilemma is that it wasn’t supposed to be a game about what people do, but what they go through. Mechanics based around succeeding at goals would feel completely irrelevant to what mattered. I was so stuck, and losing steam on the project. Then, when I happened to think about the idea of “city spirits” again, the answer to my Night It Died dilemma hit me suddenly.

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Elegance & the Death of Clever

21 09 2009

I’m currently working on a game called The Night It Died, which is about the breakdown of a community, and the exploration of what its participants do in its dying moments. It’s the game I’m writing to play SLC! Punk, and in a way I’ve been working on this game since 2006 (albeit under different names: Guttersnipe, later Boulevard).

One of the struggles I’ve been having is figuring out how to set up the general structure of the game in order to deliver the experience I’m envisioning. I’ve thought up several systems, and then trashed them wholecloth. Why? Because they were clever. And when something is clever, it isn’t elegant.

Clever mechanics do something in a cool way, and they noticeably change play. That sentence sounds nice, perhaps it even sounds like a compliment. Let’s unpack how it isn’t. The first key word here is “noticeably”. Clever mechanics are flashy, attention-grabbing and immediate. They demand that you pay attention to them, and especially that you pay attention to how clever they are. The second key word, compounding the issue, is “cool”. Clever mechanics hook you in; they are exciting.

Clever mechanics put themselves on your radar. They announce themselves, demonstrate themselves, and require your enthusiasm. If something is flashy and prominent, there are two options: it’s either the focal point, or it’s a distraction.

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