[Ganakagok] (Dexcon) Legacy of the Ancient Ones

[Bill_White]

In a fit of what may best be described as hubris, I ran Ganakagok at Dexcon for a group of 7 people.  The game rocked, but it was completely and totally draining for me as the GM; it takes a lot of energy to run it, and I was lucky that the players were just so damn good.  As one of the players says on his livejournal, by the end we had created "an authentic folkloric fantasy tale about eskimos on an island of ice."

In this game, players are members of an Inuit-like culture who live on a fantastical iceberg in a world where the Stars are revered because it has never known daylight.  But now the Dawn is coming, and no one knows what it will bring.

Bret Gillan played Akchuaq, an arrogant young hunter in love with the chieftain's daughter Moaqua (NPC), even though she despises him.  She has been promised by the village elders (against their better judgment, we found out later) to Nefanganuk (played by Dave Petroski).  Akchuaq is best friends with Muargulik (Andrew Morris), a timid hunter who is the younger son of Millilani (Mel White), a wise woman of the tribe whose eldest son, Kahupulu (NPC) has been lost on the ice.  As a result, Millilani became embittered and turned away from the Stars. Akchuaq's grandfather, Patiaq (Alexander Newman) is an ancient oracle who reveres the constellations of the Walrus and the Great Feathered Eel.  Muargulik's teacher is a clever hunter named Varlogtoq (Bob Manning), whose brother-in-law Qalaseroq (Kristina Evanouskas) is a resourceful gatherer who had learned everything he knew from a mysterious wanderer/teacher named Chitoruq (NPC).

All of this background information was produced by players each reading (interpreting) a hand of three cards from the Nitu Tarot, or Ganakagok deck.  Dave Petroski had spent a lot of time over the past year and created a stunning set of cards that really added to play.  They created a map of the social network of the Agluvu clan whose connections as always helped drive play.  This time, Bob Manning also looked at the map of the area surrounding Agluvut and decided to spend Lore to place "the Great Cave" out in the ice fields.

My explanation of the game mechanics at this point in the session needed to have been smoother, as several players pointed out after the game.  Part of the problem was me:  I was not practiced enough in delivering the explanation.  But another part was that there's some awkwardness in the rules themselves.  They can be cleaner, especially in the structure of Mana and Medicine, and that's something that I want to fix for Dreamation in January.

The game began with Nefanganuk out on the hunting floes by the Sea of Tears and the other hunter-gatherers (Akchuaq, Muargulik, Varlogtoq, and Qalaseroq) at a hunting camp near some open water amid the ice plains of Ganakagok.  Millilani and Patiaq naturally remained in the village of Agluvut.

Since Akchuaq was the youngest character, play began with the four hunters at their hunting camp, where they were sitting around their tent-stove talking over the disturbing indications they'd seen in their hunting.  Animals were on the move, changing their patterns of behavior; the ice itself seemed to be shifting and losing its stability; what was to be done?  Akchuaq decided to set off to the lands of the Ancient Ones, and Muargulik wanted to go with him.  But Akchuaq forbade him to go and set off alone.  Naturally, Muargulik followed him, secretly, and Akchuaq, perceiving that he was being followed, went back to where Muargulik had stumbled on the ice, tended his injury, and let him join.  One of the source's of Akchuaq's reluctance was a vision (helpfully provided by Alexander, playing the ancient oracle) of Muargulik's death if he followed him.  And (how cool is this?) the vision totally came true! (I didn't even realize it at the time).

Meanwhile, Qalaseroq went back to the village to try to get the People to prepare for the worst, but he was met with skeptical resistance on the part of some and panic on the part of others.  For his part, Varlogtoq went hunting in his kayak and had to call upon the mana of the Ancient Ones to weather a sudden storm.  He returned to the village with walrus meat to sustain the People.

In a very cool subplot, Nefanganuk approached the elders of the tribe with a brace of seals to demand the hand of Moaqua in marriage, but the elders were resistant.  They (led by Patiaq, whose grandson was also one of the girl's suitors) ultimately relented, deciding to leave the choice up to the girl.

Meanwhile, Millilani approached Varlogtoq to try to cajole him to go back out on the ice and find her son Muargulik, but was coldly rebuffed, causing much bad blood within the village.

Patiaq was not going to let the fate of the People hang on the whims of a silly girl; he summoned Moaqua to his tent and browbeat her into doing what was best for the village, even though she hated Akchuaq and maybe loved Nafanganuk.  Alexander did a great job using his Lore to establish tribal mores and customs that demanded that choice from her, and provided what I consider to be the second-best bit of narration in the game:  Moaqua leaves the tent, weeping, to go tell Nefanganuk using the ritual words of the People that she rejects him; the tears freeze on her cheeks just as her heart hardens in her breast.

Out on the ice, Akchuaq and Muargulik find an ancient ice-crystal palace of the Ancient Ones and enter; there they find Kahupulu, transformed into a horrible monster, an orca that walks.  They fight, and Muargulik's love for his brother reverses the transformation.  Kahupulu tells them that an act of self-sacrifice is required to bring about the Dawn, and the two brothers vie to be the one who does so.  An icequake separates the two, leaving Muargulik free to journey deeper into the structure and Kahupulu outside with Akchuaq.

Qalaseroq finally gets the People to take her seriously, and they journey to the Great Cave where they find sanctuary against the storm and a path to the land of the Ancient Ones.

At this point, we were out of time, so we moved rapidly into end-game.  Ganakagok split into fragments and was destroyed, but the People were saved, following the path and taking up the mantle of the Ancient Ones as demiurges of the new world.  Most of the characters had happy endings, but Patiaq drowned, unable to follow the path; Nefanganuk was revealed to be a bear-spirit in the form of a man who, denied a human wife, was forced to return to bear-form.  And Muargulik (in what I thought was the best bit of narration) sacrificed himself to bring about the Dawn.  He was fated to burn forever in the sky, screaming in an agony he'd chosen for himself.

Wow.  Awesome.

[Jason Morningstar]

Bill, I am dying to play this game.  That sounds so fun and powerful.  Did your players generally have equal "screen time"?  Was seven too big a group? 

[Bill_White]

The two most powerful subplots were the quest of Akchuaq and Muargulik on one hand and the Akchuaq-Nefanganuk-Moaqua love triangle on the other.  This meant that the players who were most engaged were Bret, Andrew, Dave, and Alexander, with Kristina, Bob, and Mel less so.  But the beauty of the mechanics is that, even if you're not technically in the scene, you're allowed to use your Love or Mana as a gift to influence the outcome by way of backstory.  So people are always listening to see how their concerns might be tied into the active player's conflict, and thus I think it was less of a problem than I was worried about it being.  I made conscious efforts to make every character matter to the story:  at one point, I said to Bob, "What would be cool for you right now?  What do you want to see?" and I think that helped.  Of course, it was at that point that we ran out of time and moved into the Morning phase.

Seven people was incredibly awesome, but I was fried by the end of the four-hour slot.

I will confess to dreaming of having two tables, representing two different villages, playing the same session, as a result of the seven-player table...but it is a pipe dream...

[Jason Morningstar]

Oh man, that would be insane.  You could have a messenger feast mid-way through and the two tables could merge, love and enmity could bloom, and they could part again, maybe swapping a couple of characters through marriage or exile. 

[Bill_White]

Jason -- You would be a dangerous, dangerous player in this game.  I love the messenger feast idea. -- Bill

[Jason Morningstar]

Also cool how you guys invoked the Aqlut in your game.

[Andrew Morris]

Bill, I really don't think there's any problem with the mechanics, at least not that I've seen. I see it as somewhat like Capes, where there's a high degree of interaction with the mechanics and many subtle ways to affect things. After playing in a few sessions, I think I'm starting to get a real handle on it. Personally, it just seems like a high learning curve thing to me. If that's something you want to change, well, that's up to you.

As to the vision of Muargulik's death coming true, I was totally angling for that, because it tied into his change-fear of being cut off from the people and alone. It also tied into his change-hope of finding and saving his brother.

As always, Ganakagok rocked my socks off. I can't even express how glad I am that I just happened to have a free slot when you ran it back...what?....three or four DE cons ago? When I heard about it, I was like, "Eh...sounds interesting, not sure it's my thing, though." But now it is definitely in my top five games.

I was glad to be able to pick up a print copy, and I'll be trying to rope in some players in the near future. The included labels were a neat idea, and since I have hundreds of spare playing cards lying around from my own game (which uses cards for resolution), I quickly put together my own Ganakagok deck, which I'm just dying to use.

[DocMMedia]

I can't say enough how awesome Ganakagok is. I've play tested it in a number of iterations and it never ceases to amaze. Now...I am a bit biased because I worked on the cards...but I almost see that as a separate project. The game itself is just plain righteous. Here are a few impressions of the session Bill ran and the thoughts posted above...

Andrew and I had played the game before, but everyone else at the table was experiencing it for the first time. And the session was just awesome. A lot of credit goes to the players, but at the same time...a system that allows people to pick it up so easily and run with it...that's something special. I had a similar experience playing in RobNJ's PTA session (which is vying with Ganakagok for my #1 game slot right now).

It's eerie how the cards play so well into the game. There were a few points in the story where the card flipped to represent a situation or outcome that was right on the money. I got the willies a couple of times...which were only intensified by Bill saying, "See Ganakagok is real! The cards...they're real!"

Having played in the D&D fiasco Bill wrote about elsewhere, I was so happy to be a part of a game where my character mattered. It was great how quickly the characters came to life for everyone. And in the end, I have to say, I was really nervous that the "People" weren't going to make it. That's a pretty big deal in my book.

As a final note...I love the idea of two simultaneous games interacting with one another. The could be really epic. Maybe if Bill and I can figure it out, we can try something like that at Dreamation. It's got my wheels turning!

Dave

[Jason Morningstar]

A messenger feast game of Ganakagok would definitely get me to Dreamation.  Just sayin'.  Traditionally the messenger feast was a huge deal in Inuit culture, because kinship was so important - you ran the risk of being killed if you showed up in a settlement unable to articulate a relationship with somebody who lived there.  So the perfect format for this would be two tables in different spaces, with a short break about a quarter in for the GMs to exchange information on player characters they could then share with their own players in-game (not with perfect accuracy, of course), then have the hosts receive the visitors at their table half-way through the session.  Maybe have a couple of pre-existing relationships or a marriage in the offing.  I think that would be memorably fun.

[Iskander]

I was Pataiaq, and had a great time. I sat down for Ganakagok more out of polite curiosity than anything else, and was very glad to have done so. The structure of the rules and gameplay meant that, as eldest (character), I was way off-camera for maybe an hour or so while the kids got their medicine on, but still intimately involved in the action - for all six other PCs. This was due in part to the R-mapping, and ties we built with each other, but also because of the indirect ways we could help each other out with our gifts. Smart rules, well applied make good gaming. You should make it a requirement that the PCs are tied together by more than membership of the tribe at chargen; it may feel overy proscriptive, but it's what keeps everyone at the table involved.

The way the numbers hang together is also delightfully elegant: it's conceivable that each PC and the People and Ganakagok can have 'good medicine' endings, but it seemed very unlikely. Does it get more likely with a longer game? The medicine allocation after a conflict ensures that interesting choices abound, and meaningful ties can be created. For my money, you could stand to enforce some narrative content to the medicine allocation (much like the requirement to narrate point expenditure in Nine Worlds). It was hugely satisfying for me to play an ancient oracle, hell-bent on ensuring the survival of the People - with my grandson in a prominent position among them - and paying dearly for that determination. (For the record, Pataiaq's Change-Fear was that the People would drown, a fate he suffered himself. Sweet.)

You've created a wonderful mythic tragedy/transformation saga game, that is a joy to play.

- Alexander

But another part was that there's some awkwardness in the rules themselves.  They can be cleaner, especially in the structure of Mana and Medicine...

The rules per se seem fine to me, but their exposition is a little obscure in the text, and was a bit confusing at the table. I did not grok the burden/gift requirement, and I remember you saying that for each point of Mana we took, we got an additional non-Mana Gift, but I can't find that in the rules - was that a con-scenario specific deviation? (Or was I just out-and-out cheating?)

Muargulik (in what I thought was the best bit of narration) sacrificed himself to bring about the Dawn.  He was fated to burn forever in the sky, screaming in an agony he'd chosen for himself.

This was, indeed, awesome; and a fitting embodiment of several themes in the story.

P.S. Jason's suggestions sound super-cool.

[Bill_White]

You should make it a requirement that the PCs are tied together by more than membership of the tribe at chargen; it may feel overy proscriptive, but it's what keeps everyone at the table involved.

That's a good idea, especially when there are more than three players.  I like how it worked out in this game, and I'm coming more and more to simply adopt a policy of "trust the players."

The way the numbers hang together is also delightfully elegant: it's conceivable that each PC and the People and Ganakagok can have 'good medicine' endings, but it seemed very unlikely. Does it get more likely with a longer game?

I have to confess that I don't really know.  All of the playtesting I've done has been in single-session games, not all of which have made it to the end-game.  A lot depends on the initial conditions and metaplot rules set by the GM.  It seems likely, though.  Of course, a narrator can say, "Well, the card is 'Depths of the Sea,' so it's pretty obvious what happens.  The happy part is that none of us feel a thing."  And that's totally legitimate.

The medicine allocation after a conflict ensures that interesting choices abound, and meaningful ties can be created. For my money, you could stand to enforce some narrative content to the medicine allocation (much like the requirement to narrate point expenditure in Nine Worlds).

This is a good suggestion; I'm willing to trust the players to follow the GM's admonitions without specifying any sort of mechanical enforcement mechanism, though.

But another part was that there's some awkwardness in the rules themselves.  They can be cleaner, especially in the structure of Mana and Medicine...

The rules per se seem fine to me, but their exposition is a little obscure in the text, and was a bit confusing at the table. I did not grok the burden/gift requirement, and I remember you saying that for each point of Mana we took, we got an additional non-Mana Gift, but I can't find that in the rules - was that a con-scenario specific deviation? (Or was I just out-and-out cheating?)

You weren't cheating.  I waived the burden/gift requirement for our session for ease of play.  The additional non-Mana Gift is discussed in the metaplot section on the "forms" of Mana, and it makes a kind of sense--but it didn't really succeed in adding flavor to Mana.  I mean, Goods work in play.  Love works.  And Lore works.  But I keep tweaking how Mana works, and I haven't gotten it exactly right yet.

Bill, I really don't think there's any problem with the mechanics, at least not that I've seen. I see it as somewhat like Capes, where there's a high degree of interaction with the mechanics and many subtle ways to affect things. After playing in a few sessions, I think I'm starting to get a real handle on it. Personally, it just seems like a high learning curve thing to me. If that's something you want to change, well, that's up to you.

No, the basic skeleton of the game is sound, and the sort of thing that you're gaining an expertise in and feel for is not what I would want to change.  But from my perspective Spirit Medicine is underutilized, especially since the Metaplot rules suggest that a GM can design a game such that one or more Spirit Medicine pools contribute to someone's or something's Good or Bad Medicine at the Dawn.

So, imagine this:  Each point of Mana you have can be sacrificed or converted into a Burden (depending on the GM's initial set-up) in order to give a player access to the Medicine pool of a particular spirit during the current action.  You can use as little or as much of that pool as you like, so if there's 10 Sun Medicine in the pool, you could burn your 1 Sun Mana and shift up to 10 points, using up the Medicine in the pool.  If using Sun Mana were taken to literally burn the character, each use might require increasing the strength of a Scar called something like "horrific burns," while using the Medicine of cthulhoid Ancient Ones might simply be the Sin of "devoted to malignity."  It could be different each game, naturally.

Alternately, Medicine use for some types of spirit could be subjected to some sort of limit, based either on a character attribute (you only get to use up to your Soul) or on the stage of the game (During the Night stage, only 1 point of Sun medicine can be used per Sun Mana spent, but the ratio for Stars is 5 to 1, e.g.).

Additionally, a game could be arranged so that tapping into a Medicine pool converts that Medicine from Good (for the Spirit) to Bad (for the Spirit), and then during the Dawn there would have to be narration for the final fates of each class of spirit.

This is totally easier to explain, more elegant in design, and ties the Spirit mechanics more closely to the end-game rules, which is very fitting.  It also would allow different types of spirits to be more distinctive, so that using Ancient Ones mana felt different than using Ancestors mana.

P.S. Jason's suggestions sound super-cool.

Amen.

[Iskander]

Bill, having read the rules through today, I wonder if there isn't a lateral solution to your problem: represent the mana in spirit pools, medicine, and current adversity with glass beads or (possibly preferably) piles of dice. I was sat next to you, and still found myself peering across the large table to the metaplot sheet. Having heaps of dice or tokens would give the players a big visual clue as to what resources are available (in spirit pools) and which of Ganakagok, the People, and the other players are drowning in bad medicine.

[Bill_White]

A messenger feast game of Ganakagok would definitely get me to Dreamation.  Just sayin'.  Traditionally the messenger feast was a huge deal in Inuit culture, because kinship was so important - you ran the risk of being killed if you showed up in a settlement unable to articulate a relationship with somebody who lived there.  So the perfect format for this would be two tables in different spaces, with a short break about a quarter in for the GMs to exchange information on player characters they could then share with their own players in-game (not with perfect accuracy, of course), then have the hosts receive the visitors at their table half-way through the session.  Maybe have a couple of pre-existing relationships or a marriage in the offing.  I think that would be memorably fun.

Okay.  I'm seriously considering this.

Imagine ten players, five per table.  But the tables are right next to each other].  Each table is a clan; their respective villages are some distance away from each other on the map.  Character generation is done "together," with one Ganakagok Map and two Character Records, one for each village, both getting passed around boht tables during character generation, so that interclan links can be drawn in.  Imagine that this takes about an hour.

The two tables separate under different GMs, and regular play begins.  After an hour, the two tables merge again and for the space of at least one player's turn, it's a messenger feast.  At the end of the messenger feast, comes the Dawn.

It could work.  There would probably need to be some pretty explicit tensions built into the description of the situation between the two villages, so that the messenger feast abounded with conflicts that needed resolution.

Who's got ideas?

And who thinks it's just too crazy?

[Andrew Morris]

Well, I'd play. I'm not sure it could fit into a convention-friendly 4-hour slot, though. Every game I've been in so far has needed to be wrapped up before time as is.

[Jason Morningstar]

I'd agree that it introduces complexity that might take longer to resolve than a regular game, so that'd be a factor.  I think I'd put the messenger feast earlier rather than later in the game, so that the results had resonance - a bad marriage, an ill-advised rivalry, or an evil curse could play to its logical conclusion before the dawn.  Having both groups build their communal R-maps together is a good idea and would front-load conflicts.  I'd try to set it up so that at least a couple of players permanently changed villages at the feast.