The One Ring. Luke Skywalker’s inherited lightsaber. The Aegis. Indiana Jones’s bull whip. The skin of the Nemean Lion.
Of such stuff are legends made. The so-called legendary objects that litter the lairs of MMO monsters and the vaults of MMO PCs, on the other hand, are for the most part nothing more than incremental improvements over lower-tiered weapons, armor, and other equipment we can cram into our character’s slots. There’s very little magic about these magical items.
The way almost all MMOs (and most CRPGs) work, there’s really very little choice. Equipment is a big (and ideally fun) part of roleplaying games. But, as realized in design built around timesinks, graduated progression, and balance, most equipment is, plain and simple, completely uninteresting.
To me, fantasy magic items and exciting science-fiction gizmos should let my character do things she’s never been able to do. Oh, I know we’ll never get away from good old-fashioned +1 longswords (which may be better simply by virtue of superior craftsmanship), but shouldn’t the really exciting, storied items give us completely new powers? Where are the rocket boots that let me fly and the gemstone that, when I clutch it in my hand, lets me dissolve into a shadow and slip under a door?
On occasion, when playing MMOs, I’ve been sucked into the pursuit of equipment that improves a certain statistic my character might have. For many, pursuing improved bonuses to a certain set of statistics represents a significant portion of the game.
How insanely boring! But it reveals what is, to me, the great truth and great failure of MMOs. They are not about stories, not about character, not even about the worlds they portray. They are about (very) gradually increasing your character’s power for the sake of increasing your character’s power.
Though that may be what draws some players to tabletop RPGs as well, such games manage to avoid the tedium of mind-numbingly dull equipment, largely thanks to the fact that a given game has fewer players, a world that can be permitted to change, and at least a pretense of narrative.
This shortcoming in MMOs helps explain why I’ve never bothered to have an item enchanted in WoW. While I value equipment statistics insofar as they let me know if a new sword is better than the one I have, I take no pleasure in squeezing out another small bonus to some statistic that is used to calculate yet another statistic that will help me end fights in 97.5% of the time I’d otherwise be able to finish them.
The real downside for me is that, once I’ve taken a character to the maximum level and played with all the abilities that come with a given class, I have very little reason to continue playing that character. There’s no carrot dangling in front of me. I can’t be bothered to invest dozens or hundreds of hours in the pursuit of improved shoulder armor, however cool it may look.
What can be done? As far as I can tell, almost nothing outside of radically different game design would help. Oh, I know there are a few exceptions. The Scepter of the Shifting Sands, for instance, is damn cool even though it doesn’t give a character any game advantages. But such things are so very few and far between (of necessity) that most players will never experience them.
To truly address the problem, a completely new approach to MMOs is necessary. In coming posts, I’ll not only gripe about things I don’t like but also propose things that I would like to see and also happen to believe are practical (hence the post’s subtitle). I welcome any thoughts, shared experience, or complete disagreement.
November 19th, 2007
Alec Bings
I know, I know. I’m a bit late to take up the gauntlet in Syncaine’s challenge regarding EVE Online having a solution to every problem anyone has with MMOs, being the best MMO. Syncaine is not specifically asking for critiques of EVE Online. Rather, he challenges: “Bring up an issue you have had with an MMO, and I’ll relate it to EVE and explain how EVE solves that issue.”
Rather than complain about EVE (which wouldn’t be fair, as I have limited exposure to it), I’ll list the top things I’d like to see in an MMO (all of which I happen to think EVE doesn’t deliver on):
- A real sense of narrative
- A real sense of immersion (although I admit I appreciate the semi-accurate simulation of what it’s like to be a tiny ship in vast space)
- A sense of community
- A sense of participation in the game world on the part of the player characters
No MMOs offer these to my satisfaction, and part of the problem may be the fact that the fourth at least seems to be somewhat ad odds with the first two. MMOs that offer narrative elements tend to offer the same narrative elements over and over to any group of players interested in exploring them. The cognitive disconnect, in WoW, of a single group of players repeatedly destroying an enemy until a certain item drops means that the cool background lore and narrative leading up to the kill are rendered meaningless from the perspective of world participation. You’ve defeated the biggest, baddest enemy of the universe, but you’ll go back and do it again tomorrow ’cause you want his breastplate, and for some reason it didn’t drop.
Immersion, the sense of living in the imagined world of the MMO, is both add odds with and compatible with narrative and player participation. On the one hand, nothing draws me into a world like a good, compelling story. But clicking through someone else’s story (always a danger in video games, MMO and otherwise) can certainly leave me feeling like an observer instead of a participant.
I’m not the first to long for an MMO in which emergent narrative, mostly created by interaction among the players and with the game world, would be the focus. No one’s come close to delivering something like this. Heavy roleplaying guilds have sometimes fascinating narratives, but usually the best parts of their interaction might just as well take place in text chat rooms.
Syncaine may argue that a game like EVE Online offers the perfect place for emergent narrative, true player participation, and a feeling of being in the world takes place. It almost seems like it should. It shares with Ultima Online some of the elements that could have allowed for terrific, epic worlds.
But then we have Syncaine’s follow-up post. When he discusses the “lack of short-term ‘fun,’” he reveals that some of the most exciting things ever to happen in MMOs took place in EVE, and I’ll be he’s right. It would be spectacular to participate in a PVP battle with hundreds of players on each side. Syncaine writes: “What draws me to EVE is that potential, that possibility of launching that Titan.”
Unfortunately, I don’t actually think that’s different than what keeps people playing WoW. Oh, the big events in EVE may indeed be bigger than killing Illidan, but only a small percentage of the playerbase got to experience that for a tiny percent of their game time.
So, richer though EVE’s narrative rewards may be, they come at a dearer price, and to a smaller percentage of players.
Oh, and that point about a sense of community? Well, any game with a loyal fanbase has it. I just didn’t find it in EVE because the game obviously doesn’t address my personal MMO needs. I therefore don’t have much in common with those who (legitimately) find it satisfying. I’ll find a community when I find people who enjoy being immersed in their worlds, their characters. The long lists of statistics and lack of avatar don’t support my kind of immersion.
In the end, I actually think EVE is a great game for the right audience. But I also know, thanks to this little exercise, that I ain’t that audience!
November 14th, 2007
Alec Bings
Alas, despite my passion for them, games continue to be a leisure-time-only activity for me. When my job keeps me tied to a desk for every hour of sunlight, the holidays approach, I contract food poisoning, and we decide to refinish a room in the week and a half before guests arrive, I find I have little time to play anything.
Coordinating leisure time with other people, a prerequisite for most games, can become downright impossible. I suppose that’s one reason why MMORPGs proudly advertise the ease of soloing. More importantly, it’s one reason why I, who ultimately prefer the creative fervor of collaborative storytelling with rules (that is, tabletop roleplaying games) spend so much more time playing computer games.
When I find myself so crunched for time that I can barely squeeze out a blog post a week, I nonetheless manage to fit in a bit of game-related activities. Here are my top four:
- Reading gaming blogs (much easier than writing posts) and other game-related media
- Poring over my ever-growing list of games I’d like to try
- IMing with friends about their game time (vicarious leisure > no leisure at all)
- Writing up quick descriptions of campaign settings I’d like to run
So what do gamers do when we don’t have time for real gaming? What para-gaming activities to do you enjoy?
Tobold once observed (and recently reiterated) that the true economic unit of MMORPGs is time. It seems it’s almost inherent to computer games (solo games, too) today that their worth is somewhat measured in how long they take to play. This doesn’t seem to be a characteristic of offline games (although replayability is a big issue).
Why is that?
November 14th, 2007
Alec Bings
Over the next five months, I’ll don the mantle of Ozzy, an aristocratic Englishman who’s good friends with Percy, the Scarlet Pimpernel. No, it’s not the part I dreamed of, but it’ll be downright fun!
Over the last year or so, my wife and I have participated in a WoW get-together with some real-life friends. Unfortunately, my rehearsals will conflict with this occasional commitment, so I’ve given up my spot to another friend. It will be very interesting to hear from my wife how the group dynamic changes with a new player (playing a different class).
To me, though, it’s something of a relief. I’ve been having less and less fun in WoW. (I know I’m not alone in this.) I’ll enjoy the hiatus. I’m keeping my account open so I can play with her, more informally, as she gets her paladin to the level cap, but I won’t be logging in for any other reason.
I’ll also let my LotRO subscription lapse. LotRO is a game I’ve been enjoying much more than WoW, mostly because even though it’s somewhat inferior from a gamey perspective, it’s more satisfyingly immersive than any game I’ve played in a while. But some of the elements of WoW that I didn’t like but that provided building blocks for LotRO are starting to show, breaking my willing suspension of disbelief. Worst of all, I’m finding it lonely. I’ve been grouping in it a lot more than I ever did in WoW, but since my real-life friends are either non-gamers or are back in Azeroth, I don’t have anyone to chat with about LotRO.
So what will I do with my spare time? Well, besides the hours dedicated to the Scarlet Pimpernel (which will increase geometrically over the next few months), I expect to indulge in some standalone games (Neverwinter Nights 2 and Portal look mighty tempting), catch up a bit on my reading, and if I’m lucky find some way to get people to play card and board games with me!
November 8th, 2007
Alec Bings
I haven’t had the opportunity to post nearly as much as I’d like, lately, because I’ve been preparing to audition for a musical. It’s been two decades since I last trod the boards, but with a community theater a ten-minute walk from my house, a good friend who’s an avid participant, and the fact that they’re putting on The Scarlet Pimpernel, inspired by the entertaining novel that basically kick-started the masked super-hero genre . . . well, I really couldn’t resist.
Over the past two weeks, my friend and I repeatedly rehearsed our audition song (”Our Children” from Ragtime, another great musical based on a novel), which cut somewhat severely into my gaming time. Sunday afternoon and last night, though, we finally had our auditions.
I think I did well, and I suspect I’ll be cast. (I’ll know by next Sunday at the latest.) I don’t think I’ll get my dream part (the villain Chauvlin) because some absolutely terrific contenders, active in theater more recently than 1988, tried out for the leads, but I do hope for a fun part with a real chance to act, sing, and dance.
To tie this all to gaming, I will state that I think I’m a much better actor than I was in high school, despite not having performed since then, and I attribute the improvement entirely to tabletop roleplaying games. Having taken on the roles of antagonists, love interests, monsters, and other colorful characters over the years, I’ve gained both confidence and competence in assuming roles whose personality is wildly different from my own (although I admit to having a sort of internal cast, now; I should write about that sometime).
It will be interesting to once again perform from a script instead of winging it. Here’s hoping I can bring whatever character they give me to more vivid life than I do the various inhabitants of my made-up tabletop worlds . . . but I’ll sure miss the excitement of an unfolding storyline with an ending unknown to any participants!
November 6th, 2007
Alec Bings
odanu put up a great post at the Feminist Gamers blog analyzing in detail (and from a feminist perspective, of course) the characters of Donna and William, in World of Warcraft. The obnoxious William has been playing “keep away” with the perpetual victim Donna’s dolly since beta. The post articulated much that’s percolated in the back of mind ever since I first saw those two. Great insights.
The “boys will be boys” flavor that colors William’s behavior disturbs me deeply. When I see parents of young boys treat their male children’s misbehavior this way (and I’ve started to see it a lot, now that my daughter is two and interacts more and more with other children), I feel a bit of creeping despair. “Free to Be You and Me
came out thirty-seven years ago!” I think. “Why do we still have Tender Sweet Young Things? And the very different William on that hopeful (if cheesy) album wanted a doll to nurture and love. Stormwind’s William is a petty sadist who wants a doll only to hurt Donna.”
I’m equally disturbed to see the parents of victimized girls intervene immediately and aggressively while expecting boys to suck it up and deal with their own problems. While the boys are learning impunity for their misbehavior, the girls are taught helplessness in the face of adversity.
I expect gender politics and social challenges at playgroup. But in Stormwind, where I’m pleased to see confident guards of both sexes patrol the streets, you’d think these kids work out their differences constructively . . . even if it might mean a trip to the graveyard for one of them!
November 1st, 2007
Alec Bings
I’ve talked before about how valuable video games could be as a tool for learning new languages. Well, this interesting article
at Educational Games Research points to some real research on the subject, in particular on MMORPGs and language acquisition. Check it out!
October 29th, 2007
Alec Bings
I admit it: I’m a great big cheater. Honestly, I don’t remember the last time I ran a tabletop RPG session without making up a tremendous portion of “what happens” on the spot. Whether I’ve spend two weeks preparing detailed maps and NPC profiles or scribbled a couple of notes in the bathroom while my players are waiting in the den, I have to lie and cheat to give my players the enjoyable adventures they expect.
I always find it fascinating to hear of GMs who can’t wing it, or who feel that there’s something morally irresponsible about winging it. As Ominus says at Game On :: Aleph Gaming blog in a post on Personal Rules for Narrating, the story isn’t the GM’s, nor is it the players’. A GM who lacks the agility to handle the inevitably unpredictable narrative flow that emerges when a group of people get together to create a collaborative story has no business behind the screen.
The trick, though, is not to let the player’s know when you’re winging it and when you’re not. I suspect my players know (certainly my wife does) that I have had to make up NPCs, locations, and events of whole cloth who go on to be central players in a campaign.
I tread upon the rules, too, when the situation merits. I lie about die rolls all the time, make up special rules situations that my players (who generally don’t know the rules very well) know nothing about, and sometimes fail to keep track of NPC health, letting the opponents die mostly when I feel a combat has gone on long enough to be dramatically entertaining.
And I say this as someone who takes some real pleasure in the simulationist elements of our hobby!
As an amateur magician, I’ve learned that my audience genuinely wants to know how magic is performed but will also be sorry if they do find out. Magicians don’t just keep their secrets in order to prevent others from performing the same tricks. Frankly, most people don’t want to do the tricks anyway. No, magicians keep their secrets because when the audience knows the secret, it’s the magic that vanishes, not the Statue of Liberty.
My players want to believe their characters adventure in a living world, full of vibrant NPCs and events that would happen whether or not they take a hand. They know I use narrative sleight-of-hand, mirrors, and invisible thread. But as long as they don’t know when I’m using it, they’ll have a good time.
Of course, we GM magicians must suffer for our art. This post at the Treasure Tables blog discusses the need to retcon, an inevitable consequence of improvisation.
As Sir Walter Scott states: “Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.”
And, that goodness, as J.R. Pope adds: “But when we’ve practiced for a while/How vastly we improve our style!”
October 26th, 2007
Alec Bings
I recently said that asking “what women want” from games is the wrong question.
Sanya Weathers over at Eating Bees says that asking women in the game industry to talk constantly about their role as women instead of gaming professionals is the wrong thing to do to. Go read what she has to say.
Because Soylent Pink is people!
October 17th, 2007
Alec Bings
That wonderful resource and community Board Game Geek is running a board-game Secret Santa program. The rules are simple: You get the contact information of a participant somewhere in the world, and it’s your job to send that person a game, ideally one from his or her wish list, by Christmas. At the same time, someone else will get your name, and you can expect to receive a game-based holiday package of your own.
This sounds grand to me, so I just finished signing up. The only problem: waiting till late November to find out whom I’ll be “spoiling.”
October 17th, 2007
Alec Bings
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