Letting My Baby Go

Motherhood is a process of letting go.

–Linda Ben-Ezra

It had been a long day and it wasnt over yet. My extended family had driven down to Pittsburgh to celebrate my grandmothers birthday, and it had been an awful experience. My four-month old son has screamed and vomited all day long, giving us no rest or peace. It was this day that we discovered that he was lactose-intolerant and needed to be on soy. My daughter also had opted to act up all day long. It had been a stressful day, and here we were, still on the highway, heading back to Erie. But at last, the children were asleep and there was quiet. Two of my sisters had opted to keep my wife and I company on the way home, and as the trip continued, one of them suggested that we tell Round Robin stories to pass the time.

Have you ever played Round Robin stories? Im sure that there are many different names for this concept, but that is the name that I know. It works like this. One person begins a story. He sets the scene and narrates for a while. Then, he stops and tells someone else who is playing to pick up the story. Then that person tells the story for a while until he chooses to pass it on. And so it goes. The stories that result can be fairly bizarre. For example, that night on I-79 between Pittsburgh and Erie, the following scene resulted: Our hero walks up to Joes Diner. But then, a young turkey walks up to him, looks him in the eye, and whispers, I see dead people. Like I said, it had been a long day.

So why am I talking about Round Robin stories in a column on game design? Actually, I think that there are a number of lessons that RPG players and designers can learn from Round Robin stories. However, there is one point in particular that can be drawn from this type of storytelling that is directly applicable to those who design roleplaying games. But first, I have to talk about creativity.

The act of creation is a very personal act, regardless of what is being created. I think that it is safe to say that someone who is making something puts a bit of himself into his creation. This becomes even more apparent in the field of the arts. Creating an artistic piece exposes a part of your soul. Why do you think that so many people are so hesitant to show off their sketches/stories/paintings/whatever? Why do you think that Im so nervous whenever another one of these columns gets posted? It is a frightening thing to stand exposed before the world, naked and alone, vulnerable to the barbs and jabs of the cruel and pitiless.

At the same time, as the artist invests himself in his work, his work becomes very precious to him. It becomes his baby. He coddles it and nurtures it and protects it. He loves watching it grow and develop. Like an anxious mother he agonizes over every detail, adding just one more touch or doing just one more edit. After all, the baby must be perfect in every way. Nothing must be overlooked. However, the fateful day must come at last when the piece of art is released into the world to fend for itself. The artist who cannot let go of his work will never be successful. He might make himself happy with his work, but he will never communicate his message or emotions to another. As an artist, he will have failed.

Now, as I said, it is hard to present your art to a harshly critical world. However, RPG designers have an extra hurdle to jump. After all, a roleplaying game is intended to be played, not merely read. Of necessity, other peoples creative visions must enter the picture. The novelist never has to worry about this. His work is inviolate. However, players will interpret certain details of a game differently than the designer or will alter and adjust the game to fit their own personal visions of how the game should be run. I think that this could be very hard for a game designer. Just think, someone is messing with your baby! Those people are not playing the game the right way. And lets be fair. Frequently the designer would be right.

Occasionally I wonder what Mark Rein*Hagen is doing right now. I also wonder what he thinks of what Vampire has become. I remember reading his Designers Notes for the Second Edition of Vampire. He talked about themes like Evil and Humanity, about resisting the Beast and how it was intended to be a parallel for the Beast that resides in each of us. For better or worse, he was trying to use the vampire as a symbol for the human condition. Now I am not going to argue if he did a good job or not; I am just noting that he had a definite Premise that he was trying to support. Take a look at what Vampire has become. Has Rein*Hagens Premise survived intact? I dont think so. Rather than dealing with the difficult moral choices inherent in being a vampire as defined by the game, many run Vampire as a variation on Shadowrun, with Disciplines taking the place of magic. Look at us! Were vampires! We are stronger and faster than the normal human, plus were immortal! I recently heard a Vampire player quoted: I dont understand all the angst in Vampire. Its no fun. I mean, youre a vampire! Enjoy it! Isnt that missing the original point? Isnt that person playing Vampire the wrong way?

This can very easily lead to the temptation to hold onto your creation and not hand over control to the gamers of the world. I wonder if the current metaplot trend partly arises from this feeling. After all, with a metaplot, the designer can still control his world. He is still in the drivers seat. He can still wield ultimate authority over his world. He does not have to let go.

I think that this mentality is hurting gaming. Every so often, the withering of creativity among gamers is bemoaned on the Net. Rather than being creative within a broad framework provided by the designer, many gamers are willing to be spoon-fed an entire setting and then argue details from the voluminous sourcebooks that are produced. Rather than carving out their own niche within a larger shared world, gamers are willing to engage in debates over the canonical setting, which must be the right answer, since it is the official answer.

I wonder if a better model for the game designer is the Round Robin story. The designer does his work, says his piece, and then passes the baton. Completely. Finally. No strings attached. No metaplot. No canonical setting updates. Nothing. Just the complete and final surrender of his baby to another.

Lets bring this theoretical discussion down to practicalities. How does this affect Alyria? As a result of my thinking in this area, I have made several design decisions regarding Alyria.

First, there will be no metaplot. Certainly I understand the arguments in favor of a dynamic world setting, and I fully intend to provide a rules framework to allow the entire gaming group to exercise control over the world setting. To use the fancy jargon, I plan on allowing players to exercise Directorial control over world events. How is this going to work? I am not sure yet, to be honest. However, any overarching world events that happen will happen because your gaming group wanted them to happen, not because I felt that they should happen.

Second, I will be leaving holes in the setting. What do I mean by this? Its quite simple, actually. Holes are areas in the setting that are left vague or even completely blank. Rather than provide official answers, I intend on allowing room for the Narrators and players to carve out niches. Many of you have asked a lot of questions about the setting, which I have tried to answer as best as I can. However, I honestly do not know how many of my answers will end up in the book. Certainly I am working with a certain backstory and unspoken assumptions in order to maintain a sense of continuity, but many of these will not be incorporated into the book.

Here is a good example. In a private conversation it was suggested that there be humans who are willing to cooperate with the Outsiders by voluntarily offering themselves to be possessed. (For those of you familiar with the first Aliens comic book from Dark Horse, just think of the death cult surrounding the Aliens and you will get the picture.) My initial reaction was to say that there was no such thing. That just does not fit into my vision for Alyria. The Outsiders are supposed to be too horrific for anyone to contemplate such a thing. Then I stopped myself. Why should I lock such an idea out of the setting? Does it fundamentally disturb any of the concepts embodied in the game? If anything, it supports them. So why lock out the idea?

Here is another example. In the forums, Ralph Mazza (Valamir) asked me how the Outsiders arrived on Alyria. While I do have my personal answers, I do not plan on incorporating them into the final product. I do not think that it is so critical to my setting that it requires an official answer, and others may have certain ideas or themes that they would like to play up, such as Ralphs idea for having the colonists accidentally infecting the moon. Why lock out the idea?

Right now we are in the process of telling a Round Robin story. Right now I am weaving my tale of monsters and dragons, of dark cities and mist-shrouded forests, of struggling heroes, of wars for land, of wars for souls. You listen enraptured (I hope) as I spin my tale and dream my dreams. But someday there will be a book. You will buy it and take it home with you. And in that instant, the baton changes hands. I am no longer telling the story. I have taken it as far as I can, and now it is your turn to weave your stories. It is no longer my game. It is your game, and what right do I have to tell you what to do with your game?

So, Ralph, if you want the Outsiders to have come with the colonists, by all means go to it. Shandor, do you want your BloodHost? Do it. When the time comes for me to hand over my baby, I will do it, completely and finally, with no strings attached.

Just be gentle with my baby, okay?