Complete gaming drought

Opening night for the community theater presentation of The Scarlet Pimpernel in which I’m participating is less than two weeks away, and I realize that I’ve gone for several weeks with almost no gaming of any sort. Playing games has long been my primary form of relaxation, often taking up as much of my time as working for a living.

I haven’t spent much time in Middle Earth and Arkham. And since I’m the default GM for our tabletop RPG group we haven’t visited any of my own imagined worlds in even longer.

But while mastering dance steps (in high heeled shoes, no less!), striving for that high B-flat, and struggling to deliver lines in a convincing British accent, I’ve had time to reflect on an aspect of gaming that I don’t normally think about: games are primarily escapism, a way to make entertaining and constructive use of unstructured time.

While some who went on a self-imposed one-week gaming abstinence program found they couldn’t make it, I’ve had a pretty easy time. Why? Because a tremendous portion of my free time has been filled with the creative work of putting together a show that will (we hope!) entertain our audience. Participating in this play has fulfilled most of the desires that spark my interest in games.

Of course, just being busy wouldn’t do it. It just so happens that putting on a theatrical production offers a lot of the same pleasure that games do: the challenges, the imagination, the social interaction, the thrill of success (measured by applause).

Enjoying a reasonably comfortable games-light existence for several weeks hasn’t made me disdainful of them, though. In fact, if anything, I have an even greater appreciation for the value of play than I’ve ever had before.

I’ve spoken before (and no doubt will again) about the fact that games—though we may play them to escape, relax, and kill time—are one of the most worthwhile things we can do. We’re lucky to be a species that plays. The New York Times Magazine recently published a very interesting article on the benefits of play, as well as the reasons.

Play—be it gameplay, roughhousing, theatrical plays, or improvisational roleplaying—feeds our souls, exercises our brains, and keeps us happy. We should all do as much of it as we can. But for those who suffer a compulsion to play games, in particular games that they don’t actually enjoy, I recommend you find alternative escapes. Not non-play escapes, not non-game escapes, but different ones.

If you’re bored and frustrated with one of the many treadmills in an MMORPG, take a moment to consider the reward offered for your effort. Solving problems in games isn’t always fun, but it is generally enjoyable. If you’re not enjoying what you’re doing, by all means do something else!

The world is full of opportunities to play, and thinking gamers are in an excellent position to appreciate those opportunities and take advantage of them.

1 comment February 21st, 2008

Vacationing in Arkham, MA

During the holiday season, I received quite a few wonderful games—computer games I’d been longing to try, some roleplaying game books, and several board games. I’ve been enjoying all of them between rehearsals and daddy-daughter time, but Arkham Horror has take my breath away.

I did not know such games could exist!

It is the first board game I’ve ever played with roleplaying elements that actually feels a little bit like a real roleplaying game. Oh, you can only choose from a few characters, and their statistics are relatively simple. But the characters are vivid (in part thanks to being stereotypes).

And the game itself is a marvelous GM. Since the game is purely cooperative, all the threat and challenge must come from the mechanics.

And these mechanics tell a story. The plot is simple enough, but with a bunch of different primary enemies to choose from and a big enough cast, the possible variations are staggering. With players who are willing to act a bit silly, a bit of in-character interaction can even emerge.

And then there’s the random element. It’s done exquisitely. The things that ought to be random are; other choices are left entirely to the player. For instance, unlike that gadfly Talisman (from which, no doubt, Arkham Horror acquired some of its genes, you can move in any direction the geography allows. Do you want to go shopping? No need to roll 1d6 and jiggle back and forth, back and forth around the one location where shopping is possible. Rather, dodging crazed cultists and swopping airborne monsters, you move to the shop of your choice.

I’ve played the game solo a few times. It supports anywhere from one to eight players. It scales fairly well, as the number of players determines the difficulty of certain challenges. A solo game is harder than one with several players, but that’s not all bad.

Because in this game, it’s just as fun to lose as to win. This is a Lovecraftian game after all (yes, it is contaminated with the impurities to pure Lovecraftian horror that August Derleth introduced, but while that may water down the bleak Lovecraft cosmology, it makes for a more colorful game). In the end, one should expect to lose about as often as one wins.

Losses are a downer. RPG players are used to “winning,” and my RPG friends who’ve played the game with me seem a bit resentful when the tide turns against them. (Maybe that means I’m too gentle a GM?)

Still, when the big evil monster shows up and starts the final fight (if things get to that stage), it’s immensely satisfying to beat the enemy down even as one or two players are “devoured.”

In truth, I think we’ve won a bit too often. After a successful game (and they’re usually close calls), I review the rules and often find some tidbit that would have resulted in our early demise. The rules really are a bit complicated. I’ve found it helpful to keep the official FAQ on hand, and to use most of the house rules the designer originally proposed.

I’m eager to try the game with the expansions. I received The King In Yellow expansion during the holidays, but as we’ve been enjoying the core game, we haven’t quite seen the need to add it to play yet. Still, I think the next time we play, we’ll be shuffling in the new cards to see just what surprises they hold.

Who would have thought a visit to the cursed town of Arkham, MA, could be so pleasant?

1 comment February 1st, 2008