[Metal Opera] That's with an umlaut, ja baby!

[Ron Edwards]

Hello,

We've just concluded a three-session run of Metal Opera (umlaut goes over the O), one of the many games published by Zak Arntson a while back. I think it's one of his best and have wanted to play it for a long time ... but forgot until Metal Opera one-shot reminded me and Metal Opera: A One Night Band reminded me again.

The titles of those threads are potentially misleading, though, because the one thing I'm sure about is that Metal Opera is not a one-night or one-session game, even though that's why I initially picked it, for such a purpose. Why not? Because the core resolution/reward mechanic of the game is built to start off slow, with rare and intermittent payoff, and build to an exponentially increasing [effectiveness + payoff] cycle. When all the player-characters peak their potential via this system, the group is said to have achieved the legendary Power of Metal, and the story is permitted to end. But again, you can't have an exponential increase without a slow build.

The band in our game is called Dead Fish (umlaut over the "a"), and it includes:
Birgitta (lead guitar, "joyous nihilism"), axe = RPG-firing tuba [player = Maura]
Brunnhilde (vocals, "Wendy O" which I believe was later changed to "Janis Joplin"), axe = sonic-blast microphone [player = Julie]
Krausz (drums, "electric Texas blues"), axe = bladed saxophone [player = Tod]
Tick (bass, "Primus bass"), axe = um, can't remember [player = Tim]
They were joined in the first run by the jovial, cooperative, and sinister Dieter, on rhythm guitar, although they did not notice that his guitar functioned like a player-piano. I did not use player-character rules for Dieter; he was merely another NPC.

I'm pretty much responsible for the German hair-band emphasis, crossing Spinal Tap with Soundgarden, just because I love delivering rockin' out dialogue in my (very) bad German accent. This is one of the few games I'll do funny voices for.

Playing Metal Opera always starts out "In the Crapper," as players contribute components of the crisis facing the band. Our situation started out with ...
- their spaceship crashed on Muzak planet
- their agent (three-legged lemur from planet Kwando) booked them to play for the Tyrant of Flesh office party
- they're in debt for destroying, um, everything at the last gig
- there's a loan shark after them who wants their body parts

Muzak, eh? Sounds like a mall to me. They're on the Mall Planet, and (thinking fast) drinking vile coffee in the Scheissebrau located at the very bottom of the mile-high atrium. Here comes Contusia Saganaki, the loan shark, down the transparent elevator! Things picked up quickly from there - you see, most narration in Metal Opera is managed by a given person (GM or player), with someone else (player or GM) contributing a detail as well. In our case, the details quickly took on adversarial or advantageous lives of their own, transforming conflicts and outcomes into wild slapstick or dramatic decisive visuals.

It is completely impossible to convey all the events at the combat at the mall, concerning as it did the coffee-shop, holographic fish, jet-packs, the surprising introduction of the Magdaleens (see rules text), and quite a bit of mayhem. I decided that Magdaleen agents have no lips, sort of like Muppets.

I ran the game according to "flashpoint thinking" (borrowing this term from Zero at the Bone), which means that no one rolls anything until everyone is in a crisis situation, then everyone rolls at once. If this means someone has a wait a minute or two, then it's no big deal, as Metal Opera is constructed of literally nothing but "how are we in cris," crisis, and Coloring either one.

Let me explain the system a bit, even though to do so will take about as much space as the rules-text does.

1. You have three scores, each of which has a maximum value but which starts at 0. The score indicates the size of the dice pool when using that score. You also have a "style" which gives a bonus die when you use it. So at the outset of play, you have no dice, except if you use your style, in which case you get to roll one die.

2. When you roll a 6, you get to add 1 to the score you're using. So gradually, your scores creep upward toward their maxima; clearly, the chance to increase the score goes up as it increases, because you only need one 6.

3. When every character has max'd his or her three scores, then the band has achieved the legendary Power of Metal and the game is effectively over except for a final roll or two.

You can see, I'm sure, that this has a long lead-in. It takes a while to see scores get values over 0 and 1, and we found that three sessions were barely enough, and even then we had to house-rule one little tweak, to be discussed later. However! This long lead-in is a good thing, because the resolution and narration rules (not included here) do a wonderful job for letting extravagant things happen, for including new and adversarial stuff into play, and for developing one's character's schticks. So the slow start is by no means boring or frustrating. It seems very right that the band must struggle.

So it's clear that the rolls and conflicts to deal with the Crapper just aren't enough to get the band to the Power of Metal, and the rules are prepared for that - just do another In the Crapper, only now we call it Another Nail in the Coffin, and proceed from there. Fair enough. So partway through the first session, the group came up with:
- pursued by cops for stolen spaceship
- need sound equipment
- PETA-type protest (People for the Ethical Treatment of Amplifiers)
- the authorities at the gig require an unknown deposit, which turns out to be their pancreases

I had my own agenda for the opening scene, specifically that they land on the planet where boy bands are conceived, bred, designed, and trained. I think the Richard Simmons type fellow who ran the place was simultaneously invented by everyone at the table, and I now regret I didn't give him a name. The most egregious boy-band, though, got a name quickly: Schadenfreude 5 (Maura's doing, I think).

The run concluded with our heroes successfully disguising themselves as a rather tall boy-band and managing to switch scheduled gigs with the Schadenfreude 5, thus avoiding the PETA conflict and acquiring sound equipment. The tricky part was getting the word out via the fan tabloids, but they succeeded in that too. At the end of the session, we all looked at one another and said, "Let's keep playing this thing. It is very shallow and silly, but we are definitely not bored." You can find Tim's comments in the form of a recent RPG.net review.

Run #2
We began by reviewing that Nail in the Coffin, as much of it still remained to be resolved. Tim doesn't play with us regularly, so we had to do without him. Accordingly, Tick combusted (to Krausz's indignation, "Who's the drummer around here??") and was replaced by a Tick hologram by the ever-helpful Karlov.

Oh, the details ... well, suffice to say that Cthulhu (or someone very like him) was summoned at a water-planet concert, and Dieter was awakened to his Metal Soul. I also introduced Nein Nein Klein (a band of five female Japanese teenagers wearing eskimo-style sunglasses) as the introductory act, who were all instantly adopted by the players.

Here's a good opportunity to explain something that characterizes the whole game, but showed up nicely at this point. Here's how narration works: when the player rolls no matches (regardless of success or failure, which is based on highest value), the GM narrates and the player adds a detail or a new twist; when the player rolls one match, you reverse the roles; when the player rolls more than one match, then he or she narrates in full. I like this a lot. It is, in my view, even more workable than Jared's brilliant resolution system in InSpectres, which is really saying something.

In this case, even though Dieter awakened to his Metal Soul, a player added the detail that he still finks out the band to Karlov; this was to lead later to another player including Dieter in the next Nail in the Coffin. What I'm driving at is the key role, in this game, of player-generated adversity. The whole game relies on the players' willingness to keep up the characters' frustrating crisis state, and they usually do so by throwing in ways for even the most successful situations to give rise to new reversals of Fortune.

We used music this time, courtesy of Tod's extensive album collection. I'm not a huge fan of music during play, but I'm sure anyone can see how it was perfectly functional for this game. Also, with Tim's wholesome presence removed, the players' revolting instincts all emerged and we were treated to many disturbing and graphic images throughout the rest of play.

About now, it was clear that Julie is not congenitally inclined toward rolling 6's, and as such, her character remained limping behind with low Rockin' scores. We started talking about possible rules tweaks that overcame this issue, but in a way which preserves the enjoyable exponential curve of the game's vision.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot about the second half of the session! It turns out that Krause did fail in a fight with a commando wielding an automatic pancreas remover, so it was off to the hospital to fetch his pancreas back. On the way, they were attacked and defeated by pirates , and forced to be pirate-ship cabin boys. I will spare you the flood of commentary and description that followed this announcement. The power of rock did triumph, and they took over the ship eventually, making their way to the hospital asteroid, defeating the Darker than Black alien guards and a squad of nursemechs ... leading to the song "Ode to the Krankenschwester" as well as converting the nurses (not the mechs, which were destroyed) into Rocky Horror nurses ... anyway ...

Now, I don't mind telling you that hilarious as the game is, and eventful as it is, it's very tiring to play. We usually managed about two and a half hours, maximum, and although the in-game events were incredibly action-packed, our brains were all melted by that time. So by this point, I was about ready for Metal Opera to have run its course.

For session #3, it was time for second Another Nail in the Coffin ...
- the Tyrant of the Mind is onto the band
- Dieter starts his own band and steals the spaceship
- PETA's regrouped from the switcheroo-trick and tracked the band down, joined by Mothers Against Decibel Destruction

I'd given the possibility of a proposed rules-tweak some serious thought, and here's what I suggested, and what the group agreed upon. When rolling a score which has reached its maximum, and upon rolling a 6, the player may (but is not required) give the 6 to another player. The purpose of this 6 to the second player is wholly situational, but typically, it is given to someone who is rolling for a score that is not at maximum, and thus permits them to raise the score.

It was an unqualified success and I recommend including it in the game. Zak, let me know if you have any questions about the full implications of this concept, as in play it led to many enjoyable and different applications.

Hmm, where were we? Oh yes, at the hospital asteroid, threatened by PETA. I included the Hasenpfeffer mercenaries (rabbits, of course, with tattoos and scars and eye-patches; if anyone recognizes them as the Lupoos from GrimJack, give yourself a prize), and a battle royale ensued. It's a good thing the PETA folks punched air holes for the crates they put the amplifiers in, is all I have to say about it.

Oh man - let's see, en route to the band finally attaining the Power of Metal and kicking off the office party gig, the Tyrant of the Flesh was screwed silly and then dismembered, the Mind of Muzak was converted into Metal, and more ... it was all crazy, and very entertaining.

I was thinking that our experience had a lot to offer to the recent discussions of GNS and funny stuff, because this game is raw and naked Light Sim, just glorying in the joy of Color. Unsurprisingly, playing in this fashion requires tons of non-Actor Stance (rules reinforce this in Metal Opera and similar games like Munchkinsa and octaNe.

Best,
Ron

P.S. For those of you who were worried, Krausz did get his pancreas back, as it was easy to set the automatic pancreas remover on "reverse."

P. P.S. For the most appalling concept of the entire game: just imagine, "If I Had a Hammer," sung by Leonard Nimoy.

[timfire]

Awww, I didn't realize you guys were going to keep playing! Oh well. I had a ton of fun that first session. In fact, I would play the game again in a heartbeat. I have a group of friends that I really want to play a punk version of the game with.

Many of my thoughts echo Ron's. I will say, though, playing this game proves that noone screws over a character as much as the players do themsleves. Whenever we did the "In the Crapper"/"Nail in the Coffin" bit, there was just this landslide of issues that would be dropped on the PC's. With each person's crisis, we all got more and more into dropping things on the PC's. A couple of times people even went back and revised their issue to make things even worse for the PC's!

Also, with Tim's wholesome presence removed, the players' revolting instincts all emerged and we were treated to many disturbing and graphic images throughout the rest of play.

Oh Gawd, considering what did happen when I was around, I can only imagine what this means. ;)

Now, I don't mind telling you that hilarious as the game is, and eventful as it is, it's very tiring to play. We usually managed about two and a half hours, maximum, and although the in-game events were incredibly action-packed, our brains were all melted by that time.

Yeah, I was really exhausted after that first session as well, but I thought it was just me.