Something I find insufferable about the roleplaying game community is the widely-held belief that a game is beyond criticism so long as someone is having fun with it.
This article has been around for a bit, but it’s a good one. In it, Grant Howitt makes the case that there are, in fact, bad games, and that they should be judged as such, and that doing so is not an attack on the people who play such games, but is rather an attempt to create a critical framework through which we can improve the hobby. His argument is structured around three of the most commonly-deployed fallacies, including the infamous “There are no bad games, only bad GMs.”
Here is an example of what I think Grant is talking about, taken from my gaming life: despite some influential innovations in its ruleset (and an incredibly fun chargen procedure), The Burning Wheel is actually kind of a crap system. It is crushingly complex, and the character advancement is slow and unfulfilling. Nevertheless, I have run numerous sessions of it, and I know the players had fun each time. Why? Because I’m a theatrical GM. I put my whole body into it, and I’m very thoughtful about my characterizations. The players have fun at the table because I am having fun at the table.
I used to think the fun I had with The Burning Wheel was somehow earned through a careful study of the rules; that I had taken the time to unlock its charms. But that’s total bullshit! The Burning Wheel sucks. We had fun in spite of the rules, not because of them. And as much fun as I was able to squeeze out of The Burning Wheel, I have twice as much fun with games like Dungeon World and Monster of the Week, because those have rules that actually work.
Here is an example of what I think Grant is talking about, taken from my gaming life: despite some influential innovations in its ruleset (and an incredibly fun chargen procedure), The Burning Wheel is actually kind of a crap system. It is crushingly complex, and the character advancement is slow and unfulfilling. Nevertheless, I have run numerous sessions of it, and I know the players had fun each time. Why? Because I’m a theatrical GM. I put my whole body into it, and I’m very thoughtful about my characterizations. The players have fun at the table because I am having fun at the table.
I used to think the fun I had with The Burning Wheel was somehow earned through a careful study of the rules; that I had taken the time to unlock its charms. But that’s total bullshit! The Burning Wheel sucks. We had fun in spite of the rules, not because of them. And as much fun as I was able to squeeze out of The Burning Wheel, I have twice as much fun with games like Dungeon World and Monster of the Week, because those have rules that actually work.
But mind you: I still love The Burning Wheel. The Gold Edition is just gorgeous; its treatment of magic is probably the most interesting I’ve seen in a fantasy game; and, as I said above, few games have a character generation process as fun. It does some really interesting things, and I look back fondly on my time with it.
But I’m also clear-eyed about the fact that it is, mechanically-speaking, a very bad game. Can you love something while also acknowledging it is awful? Yes. That is the essence of criticism.
But mind you: I still love The Burning Wheel. The Gold Edition is just gorgeous; its treatment of magic is probably the most interesting I’ve seen in a fantasy game; and, as I said above, few games have a character generation process as fun. It does some really interesting things, and I look back fondly on my time with it.
But I’m also clear-eyed about the fact that it is, mechanically-speaking, a very bad game. Can you love something while also acknowledging it is awful? Yes. That is the essence of criticism.
This is exhaustive–one might say obsessive–but I’m just gonna leave this lying right over here:
http://tgdmb.com/viewtopic.php?t=55576
This is exhaustive–one might say obsessive–but I’m just gonna leave this lying right over here:
http://tgdmb.com/viewtopic.php?t=55576
I think there should be a distinction between “this is a bad game” and “this game has a weakness/flaw”. I love DW but still dont care for bonds or alignments (see earlier rant). If they affect the game at all its generaly random or in a bad,player forced way.
that being said if you enjoy a game be prepaired to admit its flaws. I would still recomend DW to anyone who has not tried it. And if you enjoy a bad game its ok to say “this is crap but i enjoy it” (see Tango & Cash film)
I think there should be a distinction between “this is a bad game” and “this game has a weakness/flaw”. I love DW but still dont care for bonds or alignments (see earlier rant). If they affect the game at all its generaly random or in a bad,player forced way.
that being said if you enjoy a game be prepaired to admit its flaws. I would still recomend DW to anyone who has not tried it. And if you enjoy a bad game its ok to say “this is crap but i enjoy it” (see Tango & Cash film)
Like the article. Too much of what Howitt’s complaining about going on in our community, I agree.
It’s good to strive for objectivity while recognizing it’s not really practically attainable. Much more well-developed forms of criticism than ours (say, film criticism) still frequently see knowledgeable, insightful, highly-regarded critics disagree about their subjects.
Like the article. Too much of what Howitt’s complaining about going on in our community, I agree.
It’s good to strive for objectivity while recognizing it’s not really practically attainable. Much more well-developed forms of criticism than ours (say, film criticism) still frequently see knowledgeable, insightful, highly-regarded critics disagree about their subjects.
Howitt’s also got a great breakdown of why Shadowrun 5e fails: http://lookrobot.co.uk/2013/10/14/ten-things-hate-shadowrun/
I played Shadowrun once, and that was enough. I looked at the character sheet, saw “Underwater Combat” was a skill, and knew it would be a one night stand. Which sucks, because I’d happily play in that world so long as I didn’t need to deal with those rules.
Howitt’s also got a great breakdown of why Shadowrun 5e fails: http://lookrobot.co.uk/2013/10/14/ten-things-hate-shadowrun/
I played Shadowrun once, and that was enough. I looked at the character sheet, saw “Underwater Combat” was a skill, and knew it would be a one night stand. Which sucks, because I’d happily play in that world so long as I didn’t need to deal with those rules.
I gotta tell you guys, this whole post is serious bait for me. From the Call of Cthulhu screed to Jason Cordova’s original post. I’m just going to try to hit the high points because many of you have heard me repeat this ad nauseum.
* In every rpg I have ever run, when I ran it utterly and metaphysically RAW, resulted in a lesser experience than if I ” house rule(d) and mind caulk(ed) everything together”. Every time. That includes D&D, CoC, Lacuna (hell, I am fairly sure you are supposed to that in Lacuna), Pendragon, Traveller, Dogs in the Vineyard, My life with Master etc, etc.
* The games that were ‘good’, in my subjective opinion, were the games that made it easy to ” house rule and mind caulk everything together”: Call of Cthulhu, Original D&D and a few others.
* This is a feature, not a bug. Nobody runs a RPG metaphysically RAW. It’s impossible, just by the very nature of improvisation, which is probably the core RPG experience. Rules are always guidelines, and you are expected to change things to suit the nature of your particular improvisation each time the dice hit the table.
* “The criterion by which we judge things is based on the relative merit of the things themselves.” This means we can never make judgements in a vacuum.
I know FATAL and Synnibarr are bad because I have read three or more other RPGs, all of which are less terrible than FATAL.
I know CoC is good because of the really wonderful play experiences that I have had which outweigh the bad play experiences, as well as the the general level of play experience has been better than the median play experience of D&D and other games I played over the years.
Does it really matter if this is a direct result of being a good GM or the written rules?
I gotta tell you guys, this whole post is serious bait for me. From the Call of Cthulhu screed to Jason Cordova’s original post. I’m just going to try to hit the high points because many of you have heard me repeat this ad nauseum.
* In every rpg I have ever run, when I ran it utterly and metaphysically RAW, resulted in a lesser experience than if I ” house rule(d) and mind caulk(ed) everything together”. Every time. That includes D&D, CoC, Lacuna (hell, I am fairly sure you are supposed to that in Lacuna), Pendragon, Traveller, Dogs in the Vineyard, My life with Master etc, etc.
* The games that were ‘good’, in my subjective opinion, were the games that made it easy to ” house rule and mind caulk everything together”: Call of Cthulhu, Original D&D and a few others.
* This is a feature, not a bug. Nobody runs a RPG metaphysically RAW. It’s impossible, just by the very nature of improvisation, which is probably the core RPG experience. Rules are always guidelines, and you are expected to change things to suit the nature of your particular improvisation each time the dice hit the table.
* “The criterion by which we judge things is based on the relative merit of the things themselves.” This means we can never make judgements in a vacuum.
I know FATAL and Synnibarr are bad because I have read three or more other RPGs, all of which are less terrible than FATAL.
I know CoC is good because of the really wonderful play experiences that I have had which outweigh the bad play experiences, as well as the the general level of play experience has been better than the median play experience of D&D and other games I played over the years.
Does it really matter if this is a direct result of being a good GM or the written rules?
Doyle Tavener Those are all fair points, but I think the article is getting at something more procedural than substantive. We should be able to say “This game is bad and here is why” without having “badwrongfun” thrown in our faces. I like to discuss roleplaying games in a very critical way, because I like to discuss the ways in which things change and improve (or get worse, as the case may be) over time.
And, again, as Grant mentions, this whole conversation goes back to GSF: because we were all picked-on and criticized as kids, it is forbidden to criticize any aspect of the hobby we find objectionable. To do so makes you just as bad as the bullies in middle school.
Well, I don’t buy that. A game designer’s creative output is not infallible just because they spent the time create it. People sometimes do things poorly.
Doyle Tavener Those are all fair points, but I think the article is getting at something more procedural than substantive. We should be able to say “This game is bad and here is why” without having “badwrongfun” thrown in our faces. I like to discuss roleplaying games in a very critical way, because I like to discuss the ways in which things change and improve (or get worse, as the case may be) over time.
And, again, as Grant mentions, this whole conversation goes back to GSF: because we were all picked-on and criticized as kids, it is forbidden to criticize any aspect of the hobby we find objectionable. To do so makes you just as bad as the bullies in middle school.
Well, I don’t buy that. A game designer’s creative output is not infallible just because they spent the time create it. People sometimes do things poorly.
Jason Cordova I think I see your point, and I forced to agree, that there is merit in looking critically at RPGs texts. And you are also correct, we shouldn’t be called out for it.
But I think there is far more merit in looking critically at our actual play experiences – far more merit, than say, looking at the texts themselves. If you look only at the text, then the screed directed at CoC may make some sense. But if you played CoC, and engaged with the rules, the screed might seem more problematic.
I don’t don’t think it incorrect or bad to critically look at RPG texts – but I do think when you look at the texts, you are looking at the less important of the elements
Which is more important, the text of a RPG, or our play experience itself?
Jason Cordova I think I see your point, and I forced to agree, that there is merit in looking critically at RPGs texts. And you are also correct, we shouldn’t be called out for it.
But I think there is far more merit in looking critically at our actual play experiences – far more merit, than say, looking at the texts themselves. If you look only at the text, then the screed directed at CoC may make some sense. But if you played CoC, and engaged with the rules, the screed might seem more problematic.
I don’t don’t think it incorrect or bad to critically look at RPG texts – but I do think when you look at the texts, you are looking at the less important of the elements
Which is more important, the text of a RPG, or our play experience itself?
Doyle Tavener An excellent point. And we play a lot of roleplaying games. Dozens and dozens every year. Hundreds of sessions. When I level criticism at a game, it’s almost always after playing it (although I realize the Gauntlet is probably the exception there and not the rule).
Doyle Tavener An excellent point. And we play a lot of roleplaying games. Dozens and dozens every year. Hundreds of sessions. When I level criticism at a game, it’s almost always after playing it (although I realize the Gauntlet is probably the exception there and not the rule).
Conceded. After running Mouse Guard, I have to admit I felt the same about Burning Wheel as you did.
Conceded. After running Mouse Guard, I have to admit I felt the same about Burning Wheel as you did.
Doyle Tavener Yeah, I mean I bring up the point about Burning Wheel because it is my personal example of a game I ran for a long time (about 40 sessions) and, at the time, I thought I had just cracked its code. But that’s not what was going on at all. It took playing a game that was much better, mechanically, for me to realize Burning Wheel was actually getting in the way of our fun, rather than facilitating it. Acknowledging that doesn’t diminish my experience at the table one bit. I’ll always have those memories, but I now realize it is a game with dramatic shortcomings.
Another example: we play the Pathfinder card game every week, and we have a lot of fun. But, in fact, it’s not a very good game. It’s actually kind of lousy. But that’s ok, because it’s giving us what we want: a beer and pretzels-style game we can mostly ignore while we talk. It has its moments for sure, and the basics are good enough to keep it on the table, but, at the end of the day, it’s a pretty forgettable experience.
Now, with a proper RPG, I’m not looking for that. Instead, I want a game that delivers on its promises. And one of the things I’m paying attention to during play is “Are these rules leading to what was promised on the box?” We’ll disagree on this, and that’s fine, but I think playing RAW is super-important. Dogs in the Vineyard is a good example here: what is promised on the box is really cool, but the rules get in the way of it. The conflict resolution mechanic violently yanks you out of the story in a way I don’t like. It sounds like you solved that problem by just house-ruling. I solved that problem by not playing it anymore. It did some cool things (NPC generation; town generation) and the setting is amazing, but, at the end of the day, it’s kludgy. I’d rather go try something else than fix it.
Doyle Tavener Yeah, I mean I bring up the point about Burning Wheel because it is my personal example of a game I ran for a long time (about 40 sessions) and, at the time, I thought I had just cracked its code. But that’s not what was going on at all. It took playing a game that was much better, mechanically, for me to realize Burning Wheel was actually getting in the way of our fun, rather than facilitating it. Acknowledging that doesn’t diminish my experience at the table one bit. I’ll always have those memories, but I now realize it is a game with dramatic shortcomings.
Another example: we play the Pathfinder card game every week, and we have a lot of fun. But, in fact, it’s not a very good game. It’s actually kind of lousy. But that’s ok, because it’s giving us what we want: a beer and pretzels-style game we can mostly ignore while we talk. It has its moments for sure, and the basics are good enough to keep it on the table, but, at the end of the day, it’s a pretty forgettable experience.
Now, with a proper RPG, I’m not looking for that. Instead, I want a game that delivers on its promises. And one of the things I’m paying attention to during play is “Are these rules leading to what was promised on the box?” We’ll disagree on this, and that’s fine, but I think playing RAW is super-important. Dogs in the Vineyard is a good example here: what is promised on the box is really cool, but the rules get in the way of it. The conflict resolution mechanic violently yanks you out of the story in a way I don’t like. It sounds like you solved that problem by just house-ruling. I solved that problem by not playing it anymore. It did some cool things (NPC generation; town generation) and the setting is amazing, but, at the end of the day, it’s kludgy. I’d rather go try something else than fix it.
Doyle Tavener Both are of course important. The one contributes to, but is not wholly responsible for, the other. Criticizing simply the text alone is more or less pointless. But most criticism of game text is in fact a criticism of the game. They’re not that easily separable.
If two versions of a game have the exact same rules in the end, but one of them is well-edited and -explained and the other is a hazy mess, then the first one is, simply, a superior game. It is easier to reference and lets beginners and old hands both deal with it more readily. This is also a reason why yes, it does matter if it’s the rules or the GM that make a game session fun. The game that requires prior experience gained from screwing things up by following its rules in order to know which of them to trim is a worse game than the one that doesn’t.
And the game experience you talk about is obviously important. But a lot of it, especially when talking about a game like Call of Cthulhu, is tradition, experience, best practices, and foreknowledge of tropes, stories, and the game world. There is a difference, in other words, between the “play experiences [you] have had” playing a game and the play experience a game encourages and facilitates.
Plenty of fun sessions have come out of people sitting down to play Call of Cthulhu. That ranty screed I linked to is basically about how none of them are using the rules to do it. Whether or not this makes Call of Cthulhu a bad game, it most definitely makes it a game in need of big improvements, which is a thing it has not gotten in 30+ years.
If you are judging FATAL and Synnibar based on reading them, then I will say this: I have read Call of Cthulhu, and I can’t think of a game I’ve read off the top of my head that has worse rules (aside from Synnibarr). It’s chock full of legacy rules and assumptions from other systems, ham-fisted attempts to achieve things much easier achievable otherwise, the occasional outright contradiction, time-wasting randomness for randomness’ sake, inexcusably bad organization, and all sorts of other speedbumps on the road to fun.
I’ve played it too, of course. And when I had fun it was not because of the rules. Actually, that’s not fair; it’s not because of 95% of the rules.
It is not a good game. It seriously isn’t.
But it has the weight of near a century of solid mythos fiction behind it, combined with fragile characters and the novel idea of mental health hit points, all of which and more are often grist enough for the fun mill. A game that kept those parts that contribute to fun and tone, rejiggered the ones that could work better, and ditched the crap? That could be a good game. And creating better games should be the purpose of game criticism.
Doyle Tavener Both are of course important. The one contributes to, but is not wholly responsible for, the other. Criticizing simply the text alone is more or less pointless. But most criticism of game text is in fact a criticism of the game. They’re not that easily separable.
If two versions of a game have the exact same rules in the end, but one of them is well-edited and -explained and the other is a hazy mess, then the first one is, simply, a superior game. It is easier to reference and lets beginners and old hands both deal with it more readily. This is also a reason why yes, it does matter if it’s the rules or the GM that make a game session fun. The game that requires prior experience gained from screwing things up by following its rules in order to know which of them to trim is a worse game than the one that doesn’t.
And the game experience you talk about is obviously important. But a lot of it, especially when talking about a game like Call of Cthulhu, is tradition, experience, best practices, and foreknowledge of tropes, stories, and the game world. There is a difference, in other words, between the “play experiences [you] have had” playing a game and the play experience a game encourages and facilitates.
Plenty of fun sessions have come out of people sitting down to play Call of Cthulhu. That ranty screed I linked to is basically about how none of them are using the rules to do it. Whether or not this makes Call of Cthulhu a bad game, it most definitely makes it a game in need of big improvements, which is a thing it has not gotten in 30+ years.
If you are judging FATAL and Synnibar based on reading them, then I will say this: I have read Call of Cthulhu, and I can’t think of a game I’ve read off the top of my head that has worse rules (aside from Synnibarr). It’s chock full of legacy rules and assumptions from other systems, ham-fisted attempts to achieve things much easier achievable otherwise, the occasional outright contradiction, time-wasting randomness for randomness’ sake, inexcusably bad organization, and all sorts of other speedbumps on the road to fun.
I’ve played it too, of course. And when I had fun it was not because of the rules. Actually, that’s not fair; it’s not because of 95% of the rules.
It is not a good game. It seriously isn’t.
But it has the weight of near a century of solid mythos fiction behind it, combined with fragile characters and the novel idea of mental health hit points, all of which and more are often grist enough for the fun mill. A game that kept those parts that contribute to fun and tone, rejiggered the ones that could work better, and ditched the crap? That could be a good game. And creating better games should be the purpose of game criticism.
Steve Mains thank you for that link you left lying over there! I have thoroughly enjoyed exploring that realm today.
Steve Mains thank you for that link you left lying over there! I have thoroughly enjoyed exploring that realm today.
Steve Mains , I believe that I understand your point about the older Call of Cthulhu text. But I don’t think you get my point, which is that it doesn’t matter that the CoC rules are a ‘hazy mess’ if in fact the majority of play experiences that arise from the hazy mess can be said to be better than the vast majority of play experiences produced by other rules systems of the same era.
And it’s not just me, the crazy guy in the house on the corner telling you damn kids to get off the lawn saying this, it’s the guy who wrote what is considered to be the best version of CoC not using the Chaosium rules. That’s right, Kenneth Hite thinks that CoC is better than ToC, the game that he wrote himself, to near universal acclaim.
I have to admit, the notion that “It’s chock full of legacy rules and assumptions from other systems, ham-fisted attempts to achieve things much easier achievable otherwise, the occasional outright contradiction, time-wasting randomness for randomness’ sake, inexcusably bad organization, and all sorts of other speedbumps on the road to fun.” strikes me as the statement of someone who believes in ideology and theory over his own play experiences.
Here’s the deal: when you were playing or running Call of Cthulhu, did it work? Did you have a good time? Did the other players and GM have a good time? Did any of the speedbumps you are talking about in any way inhibit your play experience?
At my table, on my dime, when I GM, if someone doesn’t have a good time, that’s my fault – not the rules, not the speedbumps, not the disruptive player in the corner seat. My fault. Anything else is an excuse.
I can directly address any of those elements you roll call above and tell you how to deal with them, and maybe even show you how they may not be bugs, but features. More than that, I can demonstrate how it’s done, in a four-hour session.
Still think I’m wrong? Tell Jason Cordova to set up a session on Sunday in 2015. As long as nobody is dying and the wife isn’t sick, I’ll be there, and show you how it’s done.
Steve Mains , I believe that I understand your point about the older Call of Cthulhu text. But I don’t think you get my point, which is that it doesn’t matter that the CoC rules are a ‘hazy mess’ if in fact the majority of play experiences that arise from the hazy mess can be said to be better than the vast majority of play experiences produced by other rules systems of the same era.
And it’s not just me, the crazy guy in the house on the corner telling you damn kids to get off the lawn saying this, it’s the guy who wrote what is considered to be the best version of CoC not using the Chaosium rules. That’s right, Kenneth Hite thinks that CoC is better than ToC, the game that he wrote himself, to near universal acclaim.
I have to admit, the notion that “It’s chock full of legacy rules and assumptions from other systems, ham-fisted attempts to achieve things much easier achievable otherwise, the occasional outright contradiction, time-wasting randomness for randomness’ sake, inexcusably bad organization, and all sorts of other speedbumps on the road to fun.” strikes me as the statement of someone who believes in ideology and theory over his own play experiences.
Here’s the deal: when you were playing or running Call of Cthulhu, did it work? Did you have a good time? Did the other players and GM have a good time? Did any of the speedbumps you are talking about in any way inhibit your play experience?
At my table, on my dime, when I GM, if someone doesn’t have a good time, that’s my fault – not the rules, not the speedbumps, not the disruptive player in the corner seat. My fault. Anything else is an excuse.
I can directly address any of those elements you roll call above and tell you how to deal with them, and maybe even show you how they may not be bugs, but features. More than that, I can demonstrate how it’s done, in a four-hour session.
Still think I’m wrong? Tell Jason Cordova to set up a session on Sunday in 2015. As long as nobody is dying and the wife isn’t sick, I’ll be there, and show you how it’s done.
I would say if you have to house rule something, then you have already admitted that the game maker has made an error, whether it means he made something to complicated, left something out, or contradicted himself. But the fact remains, you wanted to play his system enough to attempt to fix whatever mistake was left in there. So at least you like it that much, like a movie with a gaping whole in it’s plot, you ignore it. But isn’t it more satisfying when a game or movie is crafted carefully enough to make sense in it’s own right? And that includes being playable ( ie not too complicated) by not letting the rules get in the way. Now there is something to be said for complex systems and people who enjoy them. Continuing in the movie analogy, this would be more of a complicated scifi where the story is several movies long and it drops you in the middle of a steep learning curve to understand the rules around the scifi. Those types of movies are enjoyed by certain people, but by and large drive away most by the complexity, just as 450 page rule books will. A steep barrier to entry will keep out all but the most dedicated gamer, and is that gamer even getting to play a better game for his pain?
I would say if you have to house rule something, then you have already admitted that the game maker has made an error, whether it means he made something to complicated, left something out, or contradicted himself. But the fact remains, you wanted to play his system enough to attempt to fix whatever mistake was left in there. So at least you like it that much, like a movie with a gaping whole in it’s plot, you ignore it. But isn’t it more satisfying when a game or movie is crafted carefully enough to make sense in it’s own right? And that includes being playable ( ie not too complicated) by not letting the rules get in the way. Now there is something to be said for complex systems and people who enjoy them. Continuing in the movie analogy, this would be more of a complicated scifi where the story is several movies long and it drops you in the middle of a steep learning curve to understand the rules around the scifi. Those types of movies are enjoyed by certain people, but by and large drive away most by the complexity, just as 450 page rule books will. A steep barrier to entry will keep out all but the most dedicated gamer, and is that gamer even getting to play a better game for his pain?
Stephen Crawford You’re very welcome. I’ve had Cthulhu on the brain lately, and lost a couple of days’ free time when I stumbled across that.
Stephen Crawford You’re very welcome. I’ve had Cthulhu on the brain lately, and lost a couple of days’ free time when I stumbled across that.
Doyle Tavener I’m sure if I played some Tunnels and Trolls, Top Secret, or Villains & Vigilantes (or what have you) and compared them to CoC, I would absolutely have a better time with CoC. I can say this with certainty not because I’m familiar with those games (I’m not), but because I’m a huge fan of the Cthulhu mythos. I’m not sure what the game’s era has to do with it. Furthermore, CoC has to my understanding remained largely unchanged (in fairness, I’m speaking from ignorance of 7th edition) and is still being published. Or in other words, modern games are also of its era, which extends up to now. And no, the play experiences I’ve gotten from CoC are on the whole not better than from modern games.
As for Ken Hite, he’s a man whose opinion I respect on a great many things. Call of Cthulhu is not one of them. The episode of Ken and Robin Talk About Stuff in which he indulges in CoC apologia was mind-blowing. Like being on low-grade hallucinogens. At a certain point, the rose-tintedness of his glasses must start impairing his vision.
Before I get to your questions, I’d like to explain why “fun” is an insufficient word to describe CoC and what I want out of it. So I had fun playing Classroom Deathmatch with the Sunday Gauntlet crew. It was not a good system, though, and I wouldn’t be keen to play it again. I had fun almost wholly because the other players were great. That is how most of my CoC games have gone, too. Furthermore, the fun I’ve had has not been what I look for out of the game. I look for a play experience that feels something like Mythos fiction, or is at the very least horrific, which I’ve never gotten.
My experience with CoC is limited, and goes like so: Probably eight sessions altogether, give or take. Three different sets of players. Two keepers. Everyone friends of mine, most of them very good friends. Always a player on my end. In answer to your questions, then: It worked occasionally, but not often. I always had a good time. Most of the other players had a good time, though two out of the seven people involved across the different games noticeably didn’t. And yes, some of the complaints I have about the game affected my enjoyment.
So, how did CoC’s rules negatively affect my experiences?
First is character generation. By the most recent games I played, I had been exposed to a bit more in the way of other rpgs, and I was deeply unsatisfied with the idea of trying to roll randomly to recreate the character I already had in my head. We fixed it with a house rule, or, in other words, by ignoring a portion of the game. (You were right, though, in that it was easy to house rule here.) Also, though it didn’t affect the game I played–because I was going for a highly educated character–the game’s heavy emphasis on education being key to creating a capable character means I wouldn’t consider creating an uneducated character in the future, which is a shame.
The next objection is to something a little more nebulous. My problem derives from the place where a few different factors overlap. The game’s gun-porn stats, high lethality, sanity system, and other disincentives for exposure to mythos realities or to danger, combined with lack of mechanical incentive to pursue investigation all merge to create situations where players may simply see kill ’em all with fire as soon as there’s any danger as a perfectly viable solution to all CoC life’s ills. This came up in a couple of sessions, and caused a serious division among the players in one of them regarding what was and wasn’t genre-appropriate. I haven’t experienced it in play yet, but I believe Trail of Cthulhu goes some way to addressing the PCs’ reasons for investigating. I love that idea, and hope I end up liking it once I can get some more ToC play under my belt.
Next, rather unexcitingly, is basically every time we had to sit there and figure out which byzantine, counter-intuitive pathway the rules required us to go down in order to perform (X) action. I normally don’t care overmuch for immersion, but in a horror game, this is the death of tension.
Lastly was a combat scene I was involved in. It started off tense because of my keen awareness of how fragile my character was (something I think CoC handles pretty well), how ill-prepared for the cultists breaking into his house, and how important the outcome. Armed with a kitchen knife and his base 25% chance to hit, he attacks, hoping to show them he means business. Again–very tense here. He hits! Everyone cheers. Now to roll for damage. Shit, what’s my damage with a knife? It’s a d4 plus my damage bonus, which is, uhh… a negative d4. D4-d4. I roll. It goes badly. I guess I… heal him a little bit with my knife? Here you go, buddy. Lemme spread some salve on that. Unlikely hit canceled out. Tension deflated. Hilarity ensues. Everyone has lots of fun. Notably, here we have fun not even despite the system, but rather because it’s so wonky.
But this is not what I look for in my horror gaming–“Ha ha, look how silly our game has become!”–and the rest of the scene was only narrowly steered away from farce by the Keeper. This is one of my fondest memories from a CoC game, and also one of the main reasons I’m not a fan of it. I don’t simply want to laugh and have a fun time with the game, especially when at the game’s expense. I can do that with many rpgs. I want a tense, horrific experience. CoC has delivered a couple of times on the former for me, and never on the latter.
Full confession: if I were talking about probably anything but Call of Cthulhu, I doubt I’d be as fervent in my views. It’d be more like: yeah, some serious flaws there, not my thing, but whatever. But Cthulhu is my jam. My gaming holy grail is definitely a quality, reliable horror experience from some sort of Lovecraftian game. So some of this is the feeling of betrayal talking. I haven’t played much CoC, true. But after my lackluster experiences, I spent probably 100-200 hours listening to CoC actual play podcasts (with a bit of Cthulhu Dark AP thrown in for good measure), wondering how the game’s supposed to go. And honestly, I’ve heard plenty of sessions I would have had fun with, but really only because I’m into it. I’m a true believer, in Lovecraftian horror if not in CoC specifically. And precisely one of those sessions was horrific enough to get me. I mean, I guess that’s better than zero, but it’s a pittance coming from a game that’s billed as a horror game.
All that said (and Jesus did I say a lot–sorry!), fuck yes I would play a CoC game with you. Oy! Jason Cordova ! CoC me! CooooooC meeeeeeee!
tldr; CoC’s rules have ruined my life and killed my parents. I’d still play again.
Doyle Tavener I’m sure if I played some Tunnels and Trolls, Top Secret, or Villains & Vigilantes (or what have you) and compared them to CoC, I would absolutely have a better time with CoC. I can say this with certainty not because I’m familiar with those games (I’m not), but because I’m a huge fan of the Cthulhu mythos. I’m not sure what the game’s era has to do with it. Furthermore, CoC has to my understanding remained largely unchanged (in fairness, I’m speaking from ignorance of 7th edition) and is still being published. Or in other words, modern games are also of its era, which extends up to now. And no, the play experiences I’ve gotten from CoC are on the whole not better than from modern games.
As for Ken Hite, he’s a man whose opinion I respect on a great many things. Call of Cthulhu is not one of them. The episode of Ken and Robin Talk About Stuff in which he indulges in CoC apologia was mind-blowing. Like being on low-grade hallucinogens. At a certain point, the rose-tintedness of his glasses must start impairing his vision.
Before I get to your questions, I’d like to explain why “fun” is an insufficient word to describe CoC and what I want out of it. So I had fun playing Classroom Deathmatch with the Sunday Gauntlet crew. It was not a good system, though, and I wouldn’t be keen to play it again. I had fun almost wholly because the other players were great. That is how most of my CoC games have gone, too. Furthermore, the fun I’ve had has not been what I look for out of the game. I look for a play experience that feels something like Mythos fiction, or is at the very least horrific, which I’ve never gotten.
My experience with CoC is limited, and goes like so: Probably eight sessions altogether, give or take. Three different sets of players. Two keepers. Everyone friends of mine, most of them very good friends. Always a player on my end. In answer to your questions, then: It worked occasionally, but not often. I always had a good time. Most of the other players had a good time, though two out of the seven people involved across the different games noticeably didn’t. And yes, some of the complaints I have about the game affected my enjoyment.
So, how did CoC’s rules negatively affect my experiences?
First is character generation. By the most recent games I played, I had been exposed to a bit more in the way of other rpgs, and I was deeply unsatisfied with the idea of trying to roll randomly to recreate the character I already had in my head. We fixed it with a house rule, or, in other words, by ignoring a portion of the game. (You were right, though, in that it was easy to house rule here.) Also, though it didn’t affect the game I played–because I was going for a highly educated character–the game’s heavy emphasis on education being key to creating a capable character means I wouldn’t consider creating an uneducated character in the future, which is a shame.
The next objection is to something a little more nebulous. My problem derives from the place where a few different factors overlap. The game’s gun-porn stats, high lethality, sanity system, and other disincentives for exposure to mythos realities or to danger, combined with lack of mechanical incentive to pursue investigation all merge to create situations where players may simply see kill ’em all with fire as soon as there’s any danger as a perfectly viable solution to all CoC life’s ills. This came up in a couple of sessions, and caused a serious division among the players in one of them regarding what was and wasn’t genre-appropriate. I haven’t experienced it in play yet, but I believe Trail of Cthulhu goes some way to addressing the PCs’ reasons for investigating. I love that idea, and hope I end up liking it once I can get some more ToC play under my belt.
Next, rather unexcitingly, is basically every time we had to sit there and figure out which byzantine, counter-intuitive pathway the rules required us to go down in order to perform (X) action. I normally don’t care overmuch for immersion, but in a horror game, this is the death of tension.
Lastly was a combat scene I was involved in. It started off tense because of my keen awareness of how fragile my character was (something I think CoC handles pretty well), how ill-prepared for the cultists breaking into his house, and how important the outcome. Armed with a kitchen knife and his base 25% chance to hit, he attacks, hoping to show them he means business. Again–very tense here. He hits! Everyone cheers. Now to roll for damage. Shit, what’s my damage with a knife? It’s a d4 plus my damage bonus, which is, uhh… a negative d4. D4-d4. I roll. It goes badly. I guess I… heal him a little bit with my knife? Here you go, buddy. Lemme spread some salve on that. Unlikely hit canceled out. Tension deflated. Hilarity ensues. Everyone has lots of fun. Notably, here we have fun not even despite the system, but rather because it’s so wonky.
But this is not what I look for in my horror gaming–“Ha ha, look how silly our game has become!”–and the rest of the scene was only narrowly steered away from farce by the Keeper. This is one of my fondest memories from a CoC game, and also one of the main reasons I’m not a fan of it. I don’t simply want to laugh and have a fun time with the game, especially when at the game’s expense. I can do that with many rpgs. I want a tense, horrific experience. CoC has delivered a couple of times on the former for me, and never on the latter.
Full confession: if I were talking about probably anything but Call of Cthulhu, I doubt I’d be as fervent in my views. It’d be more like: yeah, some serious flaws there, not my thing, but whatever. But Cthulhu is my jam. My gaming holy grail is definitely a quality, reliable horror experience from some sort of Lovecraftian game. So some of this is the feeling of betrayal talking. I haven’t played much CoC, true. But after my lackluster experiences, I spent probably 100-200 hours listening to CoC actual play podcasts (with a bit of Cthulhu Dark AP thrown in for good measure), wondering how the game’s supposed to go. And honestly, I’ve heard plenty of sessions I would have had fun with, but really only because I’m into it. I’m a true believer, in Lovecraftian horror if not in CoC specifically. And precisely one of those sessions was horrific enough to get me. I mean, I guess that’s better than zero, but it’s a pittance coming from a game that’s billed as a horror game.
All that said (and Jesus did I say a lot–sorry!), fuck yes I would play a CoC game with you. Oy! Jason Cordova ! CoC me! CooooooC meeeeeeee!
tldr; CoC’s rules have ruined my life and killed my parents. I’d still play again.
Jason Cordova, please set the man up and give us a date on Sunday in the new Year.
Jason Cordova, please set the man up and give us a date on Sunday in the new Year.
Steve Mains Doyle Tavener Dan is in charge of Sunday now. He seems unlikely to put Call of Cthulhu on the schedule, given he hates it, but I’ll ask. Remember: Dan doesn’t like Trail, either; he is very tough when it comes to mystery games, which is something you may be hearing about from us soon (hint, hint).
Steve Mains Doyle Tavener Dan is in charge of Sunday now. He seems unlikely to put Call of Cthulhu on the schedule, given he hates it, but I’ll ask. Remember: Dan doesn’t like Trail, either; he is very tough when it comes to mystery games, which is something you may be hearing about from us soon (hint, hint).
Steve Mains Doyle Tavener try society of dreamers… It delivers on the horror elements and tension more than any game I have encountered, and it has wonderfully lovecraftian feel (while not directly implying it is mythos driven) but the players could steer it in that direction. And the rules do a beautiful job of instigating mystery/ discovery and maintaining a serious tone.
Steve Mains Doyle Tavener try society of dreamers… It delivers on the horror elements and tension more than any game I have encountered, and it has wonderfully lovecraftian feel (while not directly implying it is mythos driven) but the players could steer it in that direction. And the rules do a beautiful job of instigating mystery/ discovery and maintaining a serious tone.
I feel like jumping in. Maybe it is all the pumpkin beer I had with my lunch that is making me feel like being an internet troll, or maybe I have a real opinion. Who knows?
Every time you have to make a house rule, that is a time the game you’re playing has failed. Maybe the new game you make up with all your house rules is a good game, but the only thing that new games says about the old game is: “Hey, old game! You suck! IFTFY!”
I feel like jumping in. Maybe it is all the pumpkin beer I had with my lunch that is making me feel like being an internet troll, or maybe I have a real opinion. Who knows?
Every time you have to make a house rule, that is a time the game you’re playing has failed. Maybe the new game you make up with all your house rules is a good game, but the only thing that new games says about the old game is: “Hey, old game! You suck! IFTFY!”
Example: Yesterday, I made beef stew. I had a recipe, but the recipe was crap. In order to make a good stew, I deviated from the recipe quite a bit. In the end, I made a delicious beef stew.
Was my stew delicious because I used a good recipe? Nope, the recipe was awful. My stew was delicious because I’m really awesome at cooking, and had almost nothing to do with the quality of the recipe I started with.
The stew was good because I’m good; the recipe was still, and always will be, crap.
Example: Yesterday, I made beef stew. I had a recipe, but the recipe was crap. In order to make a good stew, I deviated from the recipe quite a bit. In the end, I made a delicious beef stew.
Was my stew delicious because I used a good recipe? Nope, the recipe was awful. My stew was delicious because I’m really awesome at cooking, and had almost nothing to do with the quality of the recipe I started with.
The stew was good because I’m good; the recipe was still, and always will be, crap.
http://media.giphy.com/media/13py6c5BSnBkic/giphy.gif
http://media.giphy.com/media/13py6c5BSnBkic/giphy.gif
Jacob Densford, pick up that mic, you ain’t done yet…
Here’s the thing. Any cook will tell you, no recipe is complete or exact.
No recipe can account for the exact size and temperature control of your oven. That can vary quite a bit.
Most recipes, outside of a cake box, don’t tell you to adjust for altitude, which depending on what you are making, can impact the final product a little or a lot.
Most recipes don’t account for the tastes of you, or your guests. What if Jason doesn’t like cinnamon, or Rob is gluten intolerant?
Recipes don’t account for social issues. like appropriateness. Would you serve lasagna to five-year olds at a birthday party? A penis-shaped cake to your office Christmas party?
Can a recipe adjust if your ingredients are out of season? Or if they aren’t fresh enough? Or tell you how to properly present? Or what substitutes are acceptable and which make the dish taste like horse pucky?
The answer is no, they can’t. Nor should they. It’s your job to bake or fry or otherwise prepare the damn thing, not the recipe’s.
And if the dish is a success? Who do you think will get the praise? The recipe? Nah, you will. And if you screw it up, can you blame the recipe? Sure, and maybe your guests will go along with it, to be polite. But do think they will respond as easily to that next dinner invite?
The recipe never matters as much as you do. It never did. It’s just a crutch to get you up and running. But a recipe can get you try something you are unfamiliar with, and act as a template in case you are unsure. If the recipe is a good one. And Call of the Cthulhu is a wonderful recipe.
House rules aren’t a failure. In fact they are the sign that you game is working well. It’s the equivalent of adjusting the recipe to make sure it tastes good at your table. Which is the only thing that matters.
Oh, by the way, the exit to the school is to the left. 🙂
Jacob Densford, pick up that mic, you ain’t done yet…
Here’s the thing. Any cook will tell you, no recipe is complete or exact.
No recipe can account for the exact size and temperature control of your oven. That can vary quite a bit.
Most recipes, outside of a cake box, don’t tell you to adjust for altitude, which depending on what you are making, can impact the final product a little or a lot.
Most recipes don’t account for the tastes of you, or your guests. What if Jason doesn’t like cinnamon, or Rob is gluten intolerant?
Recipes don’t account for social issues. like appropriateness. Would you serve lasagna to five-year olds at a birthday party? A penis-shaped cake to your office Christmas party?
Can a recipe adjust if your ingredients are out of season? Or if they aren’t fresh enough? Or tell you how to properly present? Or what substitutes are acceptable and which make the dish taste like horse pucky?
The answer is no, they can’t. Nor should they. It’s your job to bake or fry or otherwise prepare the damn thing, not the recipe’s.
And if the dish is a success? Who do you think will get the praise? The recipe? Nah, you will. And if you screw it up, can you blame the recipe? Sure, and maybe your guests will go along with it, to be polite. But do think they will respond as easily to that next dinner invite?
The recipe never matters as much as you do. It never did. It’s just a crutch to get you up and running. But a recipe can get you try something you are unfamiliar with, and act as a template in case you are unsure. If the recipe is a good one. And Call of the Cthulhu is a wonderful recipe.
House rules aren’t a failure. In fact they are the sign that you game is working well. It’s the equivalent of adjusting the recipe to make sure it tastes good at your table. Which is the only thing that matters.
Oh, by the way, the exit to the school is to the left. 🙂
http://i1.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/original/000/276/747/bf9.gif
http://i1.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/original/000/276/747/bf9.gif
David LaFreniere Society of Dreamers is great, and I’d happily play again, but I don’t think it’s really what I’m looking for. I could give it a shot in a more Lovecrafty vein, but it didn’t strike me as something that’d be good for much more than a one-shot. I doubt anything GM-less is what I’m looking for in the long run, though that could be very cool short-term.
Definitely want to try Cthulhu Dark, more Trail of Cthulhu, and Graham Walmsley’s AW hack, Cthulhu World.
David LaFreniere Society of Dreamers is great, and I’d happily play again, but I don’t think it’s really what I’m looking for. I could give it a shot in a more Lovecrafty vein, but it didn’t strike me as something that’d be good for much more than a one-shot. I doubt anything GM-less is what I’m looking for in the long run, though that could be very cool short-term.
Definitely want to try Cthulhu Dark, more Trail of Cthulhu, and Graham Walmsley’s AW hack, Cthulhu World.
This whole thread is going in the Hall of Legends.
Also, I’m very happy everyone is keeping it light and josh-y. In any other forum, you’d be calling each other names by now.
This whole thread is going in the Hall of Legends.
Also, I’m very happy everyone is keeping it light and josh-y. In any other forum, you’d be calling each other names by now.
Hey, Dan Lewis! G+ won’t let me tag you! Use the force!
You don’t make every Sunday. Schedule us a Call of Cthulhu Sunday game when you know you won’t have to play. Pretty pleeeeeeease? =puppy dog eyes=
Hey, Dan Lewis! G+ won’t let me tag you! Use the force!
You don’t make every Sunday. Schedule us a Call of Cthulhu Sunday game when you know you won’t have to play. Pretty pleeeeeeease? =puppy dog eyes=
I don’t think I’m interested in using the calendar to settle arguments. Especially since the argument involves a game I can’t stand. Those are my two cents.
I don’t think I’m interested in using the calendar to settle arguments. Especially since the argument involves a game I can’t stand. Those are my two cents.
That said, I can tolerate CoC for a week (or run something else at the other table).
That said, I can tolerate CoC for a week (or run something else at the other table).
Whooooa, that’s not my intent at all! I’m not gonna finish the game, stand up, point at Doyle and say “Ha ha, loser! I hated it!”
I just liked the game of Dying Earth Doyle ran and wanna play a Call of Cthulhu session with him. I have no doubt I will enjoy it.
Whooooa, that’s not my intent at all! I’m not gonna finish the game, stand up, point at Doyle and say “Ha ha, loser! I hated it!”
I just liked the game of Dying Earth Doyle ran and wanna play a Call of Cthulhu session with him. I have no doubt I will enjoy it.
Doyle Tavener, valid points and valid gif!
I definitely see what you mean. Your view of games is a totally valid one. I do, however, stand by my own opinion.
Doyle Tavener, valid points and valid gif!
I definitely see what you mean. Your view of games is a totally valid one. I do, however, stand by my own opinion.
Jacob Densford, thas cool. See you at the CoC game. 😉
Jacob Densford, thas cool. See you at the CoC game. 😉
Jason Cordova, I sill be soooooo disappointed if you don’t play in the CoC game (puppy dog eyes).
Jason Cordova, I sill be soooooo disappointed if you don’t play in the CoC game (puppy dog eyes).
Yeah, give ‘im the eyes. I think it’s working.
Yeah, give ‘im the eyes. I think it’s working.
I’m actually hoping I can make it back into town for this. I’ve never played anything Cthulhu. Though, I do have a copy of Call of Catthulhu that looks pretty solid.
I’m actually hoping I can make it back into town for this. I’ve never played anything Cthulhu. Though, I do have a copy of Call of Catthulhu that looks pretty solid.