The Game’s the Thing

A bit of discussion‘s going on at Turn of a Friendly Die on whether supers RPGs are more oriented (or limited) to physical combat than other settings or rules systems.

Frankly? I don’t think so. And I feel passionately enough about the subject to post about it here, too.

The initial comment that was that one sticking point for the writer was:

Game systems and games completely predicated on physical conflict. That’s pretty much off the table. I don’t play superhero games for that reason, nor am I much intrigued by mecha. People relate to each other in myriad ways aside from trying to kill each other.

Mercifully, yes. But is that a real problem with supers games?

Part of the problem is the common perception of comic books. BIFF! BAM! POWEE! It’s all about rock-em-sock-em fight scenes, right?

Well, of course. And D&D is all about sword fights, and Star Wars is all about blaster battles, and Amber is all about …

What’s that? Those systems are about a lot more than just physical conflict? But look at the rules? Don’t each of them have lengthy explanations about how to run combat, lengthy lists of weapons, and lengthy examples of gameplay that highlight those rules and weapons?

Well, duh. Of course they do. That’s not because that’s necessarily the most important thing in the game, but because it’s the most contentious.

Consider this. What’s the story of Robin Hood about? Well, it’s about helping others, about the struggle for freedom (or at least food), about tyranny and responsibility and cameraderie.

Sure, a lot of the excitement comes from the bowplay and swordplay. But those are just set pieces. That’s not what the story’s about. Any more than Hamlet is about the final duel.

The same with a decent supers game. Or fantasy game. Or sci fi game.

Sure, there there are plenty of examples (we’ve all been in them) where the point of the campaign was to blow things up, cut enemies down, and generally wreak havoc. Similarly, there are plenty of movies like that, too, where the plot and interaction of the characters is far less important than the sfx.

Then why have so many rules about combat?

Because that’s what’s needed.

We all know how to emote. We all know, to some degree, how to act out a dramatic scene. We don’t need rules to tell us how to do that. When interacting between characters, we role-play, and the rules of how people react are socially engrained in us, through our life experiences and through the media. If my character wants to make another character cry, we can adjudicate that ourselves. If it’s an NPC, then maybe the GM will resort to a roll (or ruling) against some relatively crude measure of social skill, or Charisma, or something like that.

We accept the results, because we can intuit them ourselves.

(Note that where this falls apart — and a source of conflict in some game groups — is where social interaction rules are not engrained in one or more of the players.)

On the other hand, if I want to try to physically attack, or subdue, or kill someone else, or slap a control out of their hand, or grab and gag them before they can call for help, that’s not something I do every day (well, not most days, at least). I can’t intuit the results, unless there’s a blindingly obvious inequity. And I’m not going to trust that the other person (player or GM) can intuit it, either.

Maybe if we lived in a world or society where such physical conflict was more common, it would be different. If people fought sword duels, for example, we might need fewer rules on that sort of combat.

But we don’t. So gaming systems set up elaborate sets of rules to describe combat in a realistic, usable, and (most importantly) predictable fashion. We don’t need to intuit how it works, because there are rules to tell us.

Of course, in some systems, this is also highly abstracted. ADRPG and FUDGE come to mind. But the idea is that the rules are necessary because we can’t all agree on the results of the actions.

This is how it works for anything in RPGs. Do you know how magic works? I don’t. So if I want to play in a game where there’s magic afoot, I’ll need some rules to guide me — on the effects, if not the execution.

So why is it different if I can cast fireballs due to radiation exposure, rather than through some arcane study?

Dramatic interaction doesn’t need that (or shouldn’t — and it’s usually a sign of weak roleplaying by players, or weak GMing, when dramatic interaction with NPCs consists solely of rolls to Intimidate, or Diplomacy, or Charisma, or whatever).

Or take a parallel example — driving a car.

Some systems abstract this out. Everyone is assumed able to do basic driving skills. There may be some sort of additional set of skills or attributes that can be taken to improve your ability for more hazardous uses of a car (e.g., a hot pursuit), but that’s not so often a part of a game that anything elaborate needs to be done. The players and the GM are comfortable with a high level of abstraction because they have some idea how things should turn out, and it’s generally of little or infrequent importance.

But let’s say the setting was Mad Max’s post-apocalypse Australia, or some other setting where driving, and doing things while driving, was something that happened all the itme. We would probably need much more elaborate rules for driving, turning, braking, special maneuvers, firing a gun while driving, coverage provided in different spots of the car, special equipment, etc. Because we just don’t all do that, and it’s a frequent occurance, and we can’t intuit what the results should always be.

(Again, some systems, keeping things simple, will simply abstract it out to one or two attributes — in ADRPG I’d probably make it largely Warfare, with occasional appeals to Strength, and perhaps even Psyche if folks were trying to shift shadow around them as they drove. But ADRPG implies a certain level of trust between player and GM, and the power levels are so high that most implausible results can be justified.)

Can you have a supers game where all everyone does is punch each other out? Sure. How about a mechwar game where all the emphasis of the gatherings is mech-on-mech battles? Of course. Or a D&D game where it’s just one long dungeon-crawl, blasting the bad guys and raking in the treasure. Or a Star Wars game where every day is on the front lines of the Rebellion, shooting at Imperial Storm Troopers.

Ho-hum.

Can you also have a supers game where there’s passion, intrigue, drama, comedy, social interaction, romance, etc.? Where fisticuffs happen on occasion (or even just off-screen)? Of course you can. Hell, in my opinion, some of the best comic books out there are just that way; why shouldn’t games based on that genre be the same?

It’s up to the players, and the GM. Not on the genre, or the rules systems that support it.

‘Nuff said.