Given my current projects (Black Cadillacs and Escape from Pleasant Palace), it's no surprise that I've been thinking about war and rpgs a lot lately.  When I talk about war, I don't mean "violence porn".  I also don't mean "escapist fantasy".  I've been thinking about war from a distinctly human perspective -- what it does to bodies, minds and souls; what gets a soldier through it; what does it take to "come home again"; what does it mean to your loved ones -- this is as far away from violence porn or escapism as you can get in my estimation.

I'm also preparing to run a whole pile of demo games at a local convention.  One of those games is Godlike -- a game I've always liked.  However, in going over some old notes, I had to confront a fact that I'd conveniently shoved into a dark corner.  Godlike isn't violence porn or pure escapism.  It tries damn hard to put some tough themes into play, but it...doesn't...quite...make...it...there.  It's a classic case of system not quite supporting design goals.

So this is an AP report about a multi-session campaign that my group played about five (?) years ago.  I'm hoping to dig a little deeper into where Godlike falls short -- I have some strong opinions on the issue -- however, mine is only one viewpoint.

In the interests of privacy, I'll refer to other players by their initials.  Although I was instrumental in getting the group to play the game, JS was the GM.  He elected to introduce us to the game by running us through the Glazier scenario.  It was during an this game that everyone quickly realized how deadly default-power Godlike can be.  The "super-strength" character was taken out by a lone Wermacht infantryman with a lucky shot to the head (four tens on four dice if memory serves...)

Although the super-strength player (GH) was extremely upset by the fact that being super-strong didn't make you super-tough and also vexed by being taken out by a simple mook, the scene was critical.  It drove home an important point about the game's mechanical design -- being superhuman does not guarantee that you're coming home.  That's an important point -- I'll be revisiting it.

So, Glazier was a good way to get our feet wet.  It was also lots of fun -- in a "we get to shoot Nazis, and we have these cool powers!" way.  We were ready to get into our full-length game.

JS set the campaign on Guadalcanal.  He based a lot of the adventures on stuff that he pilfered from other players' pacific games.  We were all playing "normal" marines -- with a healthy "nudge-nudge-wink-wink" on JS' part.  As players, we knew the score -- we'd all get superpowers in time.

The basic framework of events was: Marines land on Guadalcanal.  Marines meet no resistance.  Marines take the airfield and entrench -- all the while, there's this looming dread (we know that the enemy's out there).  PCs manifest talents.  Super-sneaky enemy talent begins killing Marines and leaving cryptic clues.  Marines go on a variety of missions, all the while stymied in their attempts to root out the enemy Talent.  Talent is eventually discoverd and the campaign climaxes in his annihilation.  This framework played out over 6-10 sessions, averaging 3-5 hours apiece.

Now, I want to talk about some of the really, really excellent moments that occurred during the campaign.  These moments were the exact opposite of "violence porn" and "escapism" -- they were serious, revelatory and fun to boot.

Friendly Fire
As the marines hit the beach, a friendly rivalry between our squad (Easy -- a nod to Band of Brothers -- JS and I are huge fans of this mini-series) and another (Dog) is taken to a new level.  JS establishes some artillery platoons setting up mortars as we begin advancing.  Dog and Easy are given orders to take position such-and-such.  We go through a variety of contests -- basically, we're in a race to get there first.  Dog beats us hands down.

And then the lunk-heads in the artillery platoon level the objective -- with the Dog boys in it.

Whoa.

First Talent Manifestation
We're on a patrol when we get blindsided by a Japanese ambush.  We're horridly pinned down and cut off.  The NPC seargeant is barking orders at us, and getting all in MB's face.  JS does some cool descriptive stuff -- how the sarge is literally barking at him, how it's all aggressive, how the heat is so oppressive, etc.  He simultaneously describes the Marine as not feeling 'quite right' -- and we all knew what it meant (yay!  talent!).  The description of the Sarge's verbal assault took on a positively psychedelic and hallucinatory quality.

MB had enough.  He punches the Sarge in the face.  And takes his head clean off.  (He manifested as a creepy super-strong lizard guy).  Now, with a talent, we wiped the machine gun nests out rather handily.  It was cool.

As cool as that was, the really cool moment was when we as players had to deal with what MB had done -- he would be shot for killing a superior officer.  We made the tough decision to dump the sarge in the swamp and lie about how he died (shot by the enemy).  That moment meant a lot -- I saw some seriously guilty faces at the table.

Darcy is Mean
JS gave out a number of talents that were pretty expected.  There was super-strong Lizard (MB), super-fast super-shooter (GH), texas-twister-teleporter (BB).  These were common comic book archetypes given nice colour (the teleportation-as-tornado was an excellent touch).  After the campaign wrapped, JS admitted to me that he was at wits' end when writing up my talent powers (I believe that my guy was the last to manifest).  In the end, my Marine was able to switch bodies with others -- so long as he could see them and pass the contest, swaperoo -- my mind in his body and vice-versa.  Little did JS know that this would be the defining power of the campaign.  Two early moments:

- the bulk of our serious fleet has moved on.  We then spy a monstrous Japanese battleship -- uh oh.  Send in the Talents!  We sneak on board, and I end up assassinating the Admiral -- I see him inspecting his troops, switch bodies with him, jump from an insane height, and switch back into my body before he hits.

- late in the campaign, our base camp is being attacked by "land kamikazes" -- human bombers.  I get at it again -- swapping bodies with the enemy, detonating the bombs, and jumping back before the explosion occurs.  The idea was to blow them up before they got to the base.

In both cases, the really meaty thing to focus on isn't the inventive use of a power (I don't even think it's that inventive, honestly).  It's what it says about the choices you make with that power -- I don't think that there was one time in the entire game where I used the power except to kill.  And it does have other uses (aside from infantile practical jokes...)

Revelation of the Enemy Talent
Remember the boys from Dog squad?  Throughout the game, we'd revisit the rivalry between our squads and how it had taken on a slightly poisonous edge.  But that was just background stuff, right?

Then there was the issue of the talent -- cutting people up all katana-style and leaving these cryptic "Japanese" characters carved into them (the characters couldn't be deciphered by anyone who spoke Japanese).  This was a key clue as to the Talent's identity -- he wasn't actually Japanese.  He was one of the Dog boys, and had been driven insane by seeing his mates die to friendly fire.

The moment when the "Super-Ninja" dropped his invisibility and the truth sinks in was exquisite -- we were all blindsided by it (although other clues were there).  It was just...perfect.

Death of the Super Ninja
The super-ninja was insanely tough.  He's schooling us left, right, and centre.  We soon realize that our best chance to take him out is GH's super-fast super-accurate guy with the BAR (light MG).  Unfortunately, super-ninja disembowled him moments after we came to that realization.

Solution?  My guy snatches the BAR away from GH's dying marine, the rest of the squad dogpiles the Super-Ninja, I run out of katana range, the dogpile releases the ninja, and I swap bodies with dying super-speed guy.  Who proceeds to blow Super-Ninja away ('cuz he's now in my fully-functional, BAR-toting body).

However, his real body died in the meantime -- and that meant that he lived out his days in my body.  And that my guy was gone.

But man, did it feel great to be able to go for that heroic sacrifice and have it matter.  That was awesome.

I think that's cool. It sounds like a fun game.

"Let's talk" sounds like a challenge. What's up?

-Vincent

Hi Vincent,

It was a fun game, and at the time, everyone (myself included) was saying things like "Godlike is a really fun game".

However, with 4+ years of perspective under my belt, it's becoming very obvious that a large part of the fun was due to choices that the GM made that the rules did not support in any meaningful way.

I don't know whether or not this qualifies as "drift", and quite frankly, don't really care.

When I say "let's talk", it is a challenge -- I'd like to explore my experiences with the game some more.  However, I don't know where to begin.  Perhaps some questions fired at me?  Or do you need more from me in terms of background -- rules, social interaction at the table, etc.

Cheers,
Darcy

After running Godlike at CanGames this past week, I've further solidified my thoughts that the game doesn't give any of the participants really meaningful tools to get what they want out of the game.*

Here's my biggest gripe with Godlike-as-written.  There's this section on the character sheet called "Motivations".  It's got a good amount of white-space around it for filling in "what my character wants".  The rulebook is pretty silent on what it's all about.  However, taken in context (context being "what we all know is supposed to go there" as well as looking at what the publishers put on sample PCs), it becomes clear that it's a character motivation -- what my guy wants right now.  Some sample ones include "to make it home alive", "get this mission over with so I can get back to my unit", and "not let my past as a German citizen be discovered".  Those are cool ideas, and immediately spark some wonderful ideas about play.  At least, they do for me.

And that's as far as Godlike takes it -- a few lines on the sheet.  There it is, tantalizing me -- Oooh!  look!  What my character wants should matter in play.  ****bzzzt**** sorry, try again.

There's nothing, absolutely nothing within the rules-as-written to support the idea of pursuing character goals.  In hindsight, that must be why I chose the above examples of play -- anything of meaning to the player was introduced "in spite of" or "along side" the rules.  None of those SIS elements were a product of the rules.

Godlike would be much more satisfying to play if that little line on the character sheet carried a lot more weight.

* There's one specific instance where the game does deliver "something you want" -- you have to want a game where failure is common and character death is around every corner.

Some players don't want feelings.  Some players just want to blow stuff up with their eyebeams.

I think GODLIKE certainly supports the latter playstyle, and it's clear from your examples that it's not doing anything to stand in the way of play that IS character-focussed.  I think the setting has enough inherent drama and threat that giving a mechanical effect for "I wanna get home alive" might be overkill.

Furthermore, I'll throw this out: Perhaps part of the drama of character can emerge from DEFINING what your characters want, or realizing it through play, rather than FULFILLING what they want.  Let's look at "First Talent Manifestation."  That's drama!  The significance of a snap murder and the uncertainty of what to do about it is compelling.  Would it be more compelling under any of the following circumstances?

1) MB* has "always follow orders" as a personality element with attached mechanics.  Because of this, when the player chooses to disobey, the character is penalized and fails to kill the officer.
2) MB has "always follow orders" as a personality element with attached mechanics.  Because of this, the player quite rationally decides to suck it up and knuckle under to the officer.
3) MB has "defy authority" as a personality element with attached mechanics.  When he punches the officer, no one's surprised.

I've got nothing against mechanics that reward staying in a self-defined character.  REIGN has them, and they'd be a snap to import to GODLIKE.  But I don't think it's GODLIKE's flaw that it doesn't jump down your throat with its themes.  In WWII with a system that greases people pretty easily, I think it's okay to trust the players to build their own drama -- like y'all did.  And if people don't want to chew scenery, that's also acceptable.

-G.

Hi Greg,

Thanks for checking in -- formulating a reply to your points has really helped me articulate where my concern lies.

To lead off, I think that you're probably spot on with your estimation of the satisfaction that Godlike will deliver to players who want to "chew scenery".  And you know what, that's totally cool.  In fact, that's me sometimes.  But other times, it just isn't.

So, when you've got someone like me who wants to 'dig a little deeper' -- to get in to that scary realm of where the war intersects the personal, the game becomes a clunkier tool.

And I'm not necessarily talking about mechanical bonuses or penalties for "playing in character".  I'm talking about the game helping get to those moments that I care about.  I don't need mechanical motivation to throw myself in harm's way -- I'll do it because I fucking want to -- and let the dice fall where they may!

And yes, we can get to those moments right now -- but it's strictly a function of player effort.  I'm not proposing that players (I'm including all participants in the "player" label, here) shouldn't have to put effort in -- they must.  However, the game is very silent on the issue -- it doesn't support or refute those choices.

Here's an idea that occurred to me as I've been typing.  I'm not proposing this in a "let's fix the game" kind of way.  Rather, I'm using it as an example of the kind of feedback loop that would make a difference, for me.  Why not harness the will mechanics to bend the game (which is totally in keeping with some of the other power-level twiddling that the optional rules allow)?  Something as simple as increasing both Will awards and penalties for a given character when they're in a "it's about my thing" scene.

Cheers,
Darcy

Hiya,

For reference, see my review of Godlike. The points in the review aren't terribly necessary for my current post, but it'll help you see where I'm coming from.

Character-centered mechanics (whether they involve staying in character for rewards or breaking character for rewards, either way, or whatever else) can be avoided in a game design which is still oriented toward character development. To do this, the rules need to include situational mechanics of some kind. I think that's where Godlike is too light, as a text - there's a ton of setting, but not much on-the-ground situation. As when I played earlier versions of Dust Devils, I had to dig up some serious history even to begin with a notion of where "the guys" are, what they're being ordered to do, and what it might be like, even to the necessary minimum for play.

My dream game of Godlike has always been the Russian Front, because I know about it and care about the events. But without my own home-grown skills of conveying that knowledge and asking for the other players to invest in it as well, I'm not sure I'd know what to do with Godlike except blow random stuff up, which is not quite the same thing as engaging in violent combat in a situation which resonates.

None of this is posted as a form of bitching, because situational procedures, much less mechanics, have traditionally been the poorest-conceived element of role-playing since the beginning of the hobby, in terms of conveying how to do it through text. In fact, playing Godlike really turned my mind toward that issue, which means the game provided enough for me at least to recognize that it needed to be done.

So Darcy, my call is that you should really focus on the military situation on the ground, at that moment, especially in terms of human tensions and confusions that might go on. I think you'll see the characters blossom.

Best, Ron

Hi Ron,

Thanks for your comments.  I'm nodding my head -- I think that I can see what you're saying.  I hope to be able to give your suggestions a whirl in play sometime soon.  I'm pretty sure that I understand what you're driving at with "focus[ing] on the military situation on the ground", but until I put it on its feet in play, I'll never know.

Cheers,
Darcy