In a different thread, Ron said this:

Ron wrote:
All that said, I am still quite motivated to play a game of Wraith one of these days. That's the only one of that original pack which seems to me to have put its money where its mouth is.

Should be pretty clear, isn't it? Explicit ethical adversity, as generated in system terms. A person is responsible for the ethical decisions of his character, but another person is responsible for posing ethical crises. Neat stuff.

As with all of the original four WW games, my inclination is to constrain character options to only one of the multifarious types (or tribes or factions or whatever they're called are in a given game), and even to remove the other options from the SIS of our game entirely, so as to focus attention away from all the "options" and onto the play-issue of this sort of adversity.

For instance, in reading the original Vampire, my first call would be to throw out anything and everything about the "clans" and only play with (and about) Caitiffs. When I say throw out, I don't mean just saying "you can't play that," I mean removing it entirely from any and every aspect of play and the setting.

Best, Ron

Ron wrote:
For instance, in reading the original Vampire, my first call would be to throw out anything and everything about the "clans" and only play with (and about) Caitiffs. When I say throw out, I don't mean just saying "you can't play that," I mean removing it entirely from any and every aspect of play and the setting.

Hi Ron,

I want to make sure I'm understanding. When you talk about stripping out the factions, are you saying that games like White Wolf's... that have inherent conflicting factions in the fiction, that then want the characters to work together are not conducive to a Narritivist game? Or is the difficulty more in the way these factional set ups tend to create the constructive denial of a Simulationist playstyle? Or am I missing the point entirely?

I'm not Ron, but I'll give you my thoughts.  Aren't you happy?

The problem with splats is that they can become lazy shorthand for certain character types.  For example, the Vampire clans are actually different vampire personality stereotypes.  As such, adopting a given clan tends to mean that you are adopting a certain position in the power struggles of the world.  So, Brujah tend to be anarchists, while Ventrue are conservative, and so on.  Of course, you can always choose to play against type, but that means that you're somewhat working upstream against your character choices.  Also, this tends to be a poor design issue.  The players' choices then tend to be limited to play with type or play against type.  Also, this means that characters are narrowly defined by their position in the political power structure.

Caitiffs, though, are outside the clan structure.  As such, a Caitiff could be...anything.  They are not bound to expectations or stereotypes (be they in-game or imposed from outside).  As such, they have the freedom to have a personal moral outlook and make ethical choices, which is necessary for Narrativist play.

Interestingly, in the base game, Wraith doesn't actually have splats.  (The expansions tried to make the Guilds into splats, but without much success, IMHO.)  There are political concerns in the Shadowlands (Stygia, Renegades, and the like), but the individual PC can position himself within that power structure as he desires or ignore it altogether.  Honestly, for a while now, I've thought that the idea of a Circle (i.e. PC group) doesn't really work in Wraith, and that the game would benefit from an application of hippy game techniques, like the break-up of the PC party.  Let each character go his own way; it will actually work better.

Huh.  Now I'm wanting to pull Wraith off the shelf and play it again.....

Hi Clyde,

That's a complex issue that reaches back farther into role-playing history and only takes on a particular form in the Storyteller games. Your two speculative answers are both correct, to some extent, but we should talk more about the history before getting into how.

In the 1980s, the majority of role-playing publishing and design was based on two models: Champions and AD&D. (I consider GURPS to fall within the Champions model.)

The AD&D version is probably familiar: the group of characters are together because the group of players is effectively a team. Asking "why are the characters together" is a bit like asking "why does the football team all play on the same field." Call of Cthulhu follows this model too. Note that inter-character conflict, within the team, is often built-in and partly expected, with various control or limiting mechanisms of whatever effectiveness. This conflict isn't so much thematic as straightforwardly tactical - pure and simple game theory, really. I can't overstate this: given the team approach, most of the fun of play comes from the direct opposition permitted by the possibility of betrayal.

The Champions version is genre-driven: the group of characters is together because their interactions are part of the topic, indeed, they might even be more important to the participants than the external or goals-based conflict. Superheroes were a natural fit for this approach really to blossom with Champions, because of the highly-charged content of the superteam and the popularity of The X-Men at the time (1979, roughly). You can see it with Star Trek fandom and other buddy-oriented or ensemble-type science fiction and adventure, too; arguably, GURPS is predicated on merely shifting setting-trappings around the same core image/approach to play because it's so common. Here, the talk of disagreement is important, but it only sets up the discord as a straw man, to punch home the core, undisputable value of group identity.

A hell of a lot of the social strife that characterized role-playing until the early 1990s arises fully from the incompatible natures of these two approaches, compounded by the average age of the participants. When people tried to play using the second version, but with the means and assumptions of the first, well, that's why AD&D2 became a misery for nearly anyone who ever tried it. It's also why people who favor the second model developed such a hatred-culture for "dungeon crawling" or "roll-playing," because they often associate it with being backstabbed in substantial ways.

Here's my point: in both of these approaches, the concept of "character niche" is important. In the first, it has everything to do with tactics - we need a cleric, we need a magic-user, we need at least two fighters, and so on. This factors into the group/betrayal dynamic as well because one might like to steal the magic-user's cool item (or kill the magic-user because Bob called you a pussy in the previous session), but one might also need that magic-user around for the next fight, and so on. Rifts probably represents the most hard-core expression of the proliferation of niches based on this approach.

In the second, it has everything to do with genre - we need Wolverine a guy who always balks and frets because that allows Cyclops Picard the other guy to step in and reaffirm the thematic content (which is never really under pressure). And the more characters who can balk and fret in different ways, the better it is when they all team up and fight together against the real evil (whatever it may be). It also has to do with allowing people to engage fully in their separate power-fantasies without facing real turf-conflict among the real people; so that you might be mondo-freakozoid Aggravated Damage man and I might be Sneaky-Tricky Crazy Insightful Man, and we can tease one another's differences without really stepping on one another's toes in terms of in-game effectiveness.

OK so far: character niche is a big deal in role-playing, but for very different reasons in the two most prevalent assumptions or approaches to play. A lot of game design in the late 1980s represented uneasy, unstated, not-very-functional attempts at compromise between the approaches, with a corresponding proliferation of substantive options. Shadowrun, Earthdawn, most GDW games like Dark Conspiracy, later versions of Traveller, many AD&D2 spinoffs like Planescape and Arabian Nights, Space:1889, Cyberpunk, and many others all illustrate this painful and non-functional compromise approach, in most cases defaulting to "well, you just need a good GM" or similarly empty commentary to arrive at real-play solutions. Rifts, mentioned above, represents one of the few relatively coherent results, specifically because it relies solely on version #1 and does not attempt any compromise with version #2.

Fast-forward to the early 1990s and the appearance of Vampire. I suggest that the model for the first four games published by White Wolf was based on neither version #1 nor version #2, but rather on the attempted compromise between them that characterized, for instance, certain approaches to Shadowrun, specifically not the balls-out Gamist play but the story/metaplot play. The result is pure mess, for the same reason that playing this kind of Shadowrun or "story-oriented" AD&D2 was always a mess. No one, not players, not GM, not game authors, not freelancers, have any idea whatsoever of how "the group" of characters pertains to "the group" of players. All you see are individual attempts to hark back to the historical solutions and assumptions, like the Prince of the city assigning you-all a mission, as well as many others.

The improvement-based reward system makes it ten times worse, because if one guy goes all Gamist on everyone else, in terms of boosting effectiveness or influence in the game-world (i.e. D&D-type advancement), then he's fucking up everyone else's cooperation to keep in their niches and stay "even" with one another. But that's another topic for another discussion.

What does any or all of this have to do with Narrativist play, or with Vampire's alleged (by me) failure to facilitate Narrativism? It's a two-step answer.

1. Because neither version works from the start for Narrativist purposes. Regarding the first version, team membership and team betrayal may not be relevant to the current, developing or developed Premise of play at all. And if they are, then working out the results is not about player-advantage in the same way as in old-school fantasy dungeoneering, but rather about thematic outcomes subject both to personal judgment and to the vagaries of that particular system. Regarding the second version, "facing the final eeevil" or figuring out the real villain isn't a given in Narrativist play, it's just more Situation and remains as open to player-judgment as anything else ... in which case, posturing at one another because "we see things differently" (and intended to be just a setup for reconciliation) swiftly becomes content rather than posturing.

So "niche" in either version doesn't work for Narrativist play - not at all. Narrativist play relies on meaningful constraints, but those constraints may vary widely from character to character, from game to game, and from group to group.

2. Because the compromise approach between the two versions is inherently flawed, as I tried to describe briefly above. So what happens if you have Narrativist inclinations, is trying to utilize a flawed compromise between two approaches, neither of which make sense for your inclinations in the first place.

Let me put all of this in plain language. What does choosing a clan in first-edition Vampire mean, for a Narrativist-inclined person, or better, group? Answer: nothing, as written. You have to invent an answer.

One possible answer is that clans' internal values are themselves sources of valid conflict - as a Toreador, you will face problematic and transformative conflicts which will throw everything about being a Toreador into question.

Another possible answer is that inter-clan conflicts are themselves sources of conflict, much like the different cults and values that nonetheless co-exist in a Gloranthan-setting game. Here, you will face the fundamental crisis between ideology and judgment, and ultimately will have to arrive at either conformity to your own, conformity to another (hence rejection), or synthesis (functionally rejection of both), or rebellion (explicit rejection of both). Will characters have to do this individually, or as a group (as in HeroQuest)? That becomes a sub-question.

Yet another possible answer is that "clans" are a red herring and their inherent (and locally flawed) niche-based content is a source of confusion rather than focus. I tend toward this answer, because neither of the answers above really address the basic humanist conflicts inherent in being a vampire. In other words, all the clan stuff is just plain distracting - I mean, for Pete's sake, my character drinks people's blood and may well kill them! Why in the world would clique-y based conflicts and who becomes the Prince and yip-yap about identity politics matter, in comparison?

So my suggested solution is composed of several parts.

i) Holding "clan" constant means removing the niche distraction entirely, getting rid of all the complex hassles that I tried to outline in the first part of this post. (Seth's point about chucking-out the whole Circle notion is consistent with this as well.)

ii) Removing the clans entirely from the SIS (back-story, setting, everything) removes the issue of setting-based, allegiance-based, and identity-politics-based conflict entirely. There is nothing wrong with this sort of conflict when it's the central focus (again, HeroQuest), but it does not fit well in a game which also features highly-personalized internal conflict.

iii) Specifying Caitiff is actually only a minor piece of my solution. For instance, specifying "everyone's a Brujah" and also saying "and there are nothing but Brujah" would be functional too, especially if the inherent issues within the ideology were of interest among us, to the real people. In fact, I specify Brujah because they are interesting to me in those terms, whereas Gangrel or Ventrue emphatically bore me. I chose Caitiff at the time because it seemed consistent with the "you wake up! you're a vampire!" starting point that's strongly favored in the original version of the game, and because I really wanted to scrub out setting-based conflict.

Best, Ron

Dude, wow. Thanks a lot for that explanation.

Hi, Ron!

The WoD Clans (or Tribe, or Circle, etc.) had a direct antecendent in Ars Magica's "Houses". Do you see them sharing the same problems, of the other peculiarities of AM (Covenants, troupe play) change things enogh to render them less (or more) distruptive to narrativist play?

(I am asking because I have requests from one of the players in my gaming group to play Ars Magica.  I already played AM in the past but with a group so dysfunctional that the social issues could have masked any problem of the game system.  I am really not much interested in playing AM now if I can't render it playable in a narrativist way)

I used to play a bunch of Ars Magica...the old Lion Rampart edition especially.  In fact, my complete total and utter rejection of Mage and subsequent halt of purchasing White Wolf stemmed from my complete total and utter disappointment that 1st ed Mage The Ascension was NOT Ars Magica in the 20th Century (no one hates as deeply as a disillusioned fan...).

Yes, Ars Magica Houses suffer from the same problems as Ron elucidates above.  They weren't (at least in the editions I played) as totally splatted out as Vampire clans but they were pretty close and clearly the precedent.  We pretty much dumped them without ever knowing why they bugged us.

We totally played with Ars Magica Covenants, however, and the Covenants source book I think is essential (at least for the sort of AM play I really enjoy) but we limited the houses to nothing more meaningful than rough lineages of knowledge...the way in martial arts a masters might pass down certain knowledge or philosophies to their students, who pass it down to their students, etc. so they were useful for color, but that was all.

In other words, all the clan stuff is just plain distracting - I mean, for Pete's sake, my character drinks people's blood and may well kill them! Why in the world would clique-y based conflicts and who becomes the Prince and yip-yap about identity politics matter, in comparison?

Geez, guys, tell us how you really feel.

Hey Clyde - how's this stuff working for you? Making sense, causing confusion, or?

Best, Ron

Hi Ron,

I've reviewed it several times, and there's lot's of good stuff in there, but I'm not sure I've quite got the whole picture. This and Mike's thread on Bangs on storygames is causing some subtle paradigm shifting for me this week. I think what I may have been considering Narritivism may actually be Character exploration, as my understanding of bangs previously is what Mike is calling a dilemma bang. Let me try parroting back somewhat what you and Seth are saying, and see if I'm getting it.

White Wolf's factions don't help Narritivist play because they don't allow addressing moral and personal dilemma's because they are fixed into place and the games mechanics don't actually do anything with them to cause you to have to address any issues based on factions. To further compound they distract from addressing the main issues the game claims to be about which is an examination of man becoming  a predatory, cannibalistic, monster in order to survive, and what it means to be human. Compound interest is collected if you actually try to address that premise because the game basically punishes a Narritivist player by restricting their choices via it's humanity rules, restricting the players ability to respond meaningfully.

So it's not that having factions gets in the way of Narritivist play, when the game makes you address those factions and what they mean. In other words it makes being part of a faction an important choice that is going to cause you to examine the moral and social aspects of those factions.

I think this was what I found it confusing as it seemed to me the factions could be rife with issues, and I was thinking games that examine issues equals Narritivism. When it seems it's actually a little more subtle than that. I think this last bit is why I haven't responded as I'm still trying to figure this part out.

I'm thinking I may understand better now, the division is based on decisions isn't it? A Narritivist game is setting up a game where I will be able to address moral and social dilemmas, and the decisions will be based around what I want. In a Simulationist game the decisions are based on the established fiction, there can be dilemmas here, but I'm going to make decisions from the point of view of the fiction. So the factions might help set up dilemmas that could be interesting from a Sim focus, but they aren't interesting from a Nar focus because the perspective is created from the fiction not the player. Am I getting closer, or is my mind leading me astray?

Hi Clyde,

I'd like to emphasize that you can only turn this stuff over in your head so much, without direct experience. Right now, you're in the same zone that Jesse Burneko suffered in for a long time, when he'd try to articulate the issue, then second-guess himself, and no matter what he asked or what was said, he'd just keep doing that over and over. But then he started putting little pieces of what he was getting (parts that made sense to him) into practice, and then, over time, wham, it made sense and then other things that he couldn't process before had an experiential context.

I think you may be returning to the dilemma of what's in the fiction as opposed to what we, the people, are doing as we create the fiction. Sure, if the fictional stuff itself doesn't have any kind of issue in it (big dragon! fighty-fight!) then it's not Narrativist, no problem. But if the fictional stuff does have some kind of ethical or problematic issue in it ... but we as people only see it, or at most, only celebrate it, then the issue is not being addressed. It's just "there," usually in developed form, or there to be made in an agreed-upon form. That's not Narrativist either.

White Wolf's factions don't help Narritivist play because they don't allow addressing moral and personal dilemma's because they are fixed into place and the games mechanics don't actually do anything with them to cause you to have to address any issues based on factions. To further compound they distract from addressing the main issues the game claims to be about which is an examination of man becoming  a predatory, cannibalistic, monster in order to survive, and what it means to be human. Compound interest is collected if you actually try to address that premise because the game basically punishes a Narritivist player by restricting their choices via it's humanity rules, restricting the players ability to respond meaningfully.

So it's not that having factions gets in the way of Narritivist play, when the game makes you address those factions and what they mean. In other words it makes being part of a faction an important choice that is going to cause you to examine the moral and social aspects of those factions.

I think this was what I found it confusing as it seemed to me the factions could be rife with issues, and I was thinking games that examine issues equals Narritivism. When it seems it's actually a little more subtle than that. I think this last bit is why I haven't responded as I'm still trying to figure this part out.

I'm thinking I may understand better now, the division is based on decisions isn't it? A Narritivist game is setting up a game where I will be able to address moral and social dilemmas, and the decisions will be based around what I want. In a Simulationist game the decisions are based on the established fiction, there can be dilemmas here, but I'm going to make decisions from the point of view of the fiction. So the factions might help set up dilemmas that could be interesting from a Sim focus, but they aren't interesting from a Nar focus because the perspective is created from the fiction not the player. Am I getting closer, or is my mind leading me astray?

Hi Ron,

This I think was very helpful. I'll return to parroting tomorrow when I've had better sleep and some soak time.

Hi Ron,

Alrighty. I understand why WW games don't support Narritivism out of the box, so it seems the discussion is that Clyde 90% understands Narritivism, and that last ten percent is keeping him from understanding some stuff. *laughs* I always seem to be at 90%.

Let's hit the points that I understand. I understand the game can't make me do something. I understand that a Brujah not being able to turn into a Ventrue means that they are niches, and not factions as I was seeing them. I understand that analyzing GNS is based on long term decisions, a pattern of decisions if you will.

Now let's hit the points I'm having trouble with. I think I understand what you are saying about everything coming from the player. Let me try restating.... What I was trying to say is that in a Simulationist group I would be making my choices on being right, or true, to something. For instance perhaps being true to the setting, or the character, etc. Reinforcing the dream, by being true to it. I'm hoping I understand that well as Sim seems like home in my understanding of the agendas.

In a Narritivist group my decisions would be based on... I'm not so sure here. Passing Judgment? So we're taking a stance on the issues?

Clyde, I'm going to call your attention to an article at Places to Go, People to Be entitled Theory 101: Creative Agenda. If you've not read it, it may help put a different perspective on all three agenda, what it means to be an agendum, and how the three may be identified and distinguished. It is, of course, an introductory article, but many have found it helpful in giving a foundation for understanding the concepts.

Disclaimer: Ron has never, to my knowledge, commented on that particular article series, although Vincent "Lumpley" Baker reviewed it before publication and thinks highly of it.

I hope this helps.

--M. J. Young

Hi there,

I owe you some commentary, M.J.

Clyde, your statements in that post are very strongly on-target, regarding Simulationist play. Regarding Narrativist play, we should probably specify a little whether we are talking about what it is, or what it feels like. Those aren't the same thing. I am convinced that coherent play, with a strong SIS-foundation and a humming-along reward system, feels pretty much the same no matter what the Creative Agenda is.

The reason I bring this up is because when I say, "Yes, it's about passing judgment," people have been known to react by thinking it's some kind of out-of-character, abstract, philosophical, highly self-reflective experience which has very little to do with "I jump over the chasm! 'Yahhh! You bastard!' I'm swinging my bastard sword two-handed at'im!"

But playing Narrativist is founded on such statements and such interactions, just like any or most other good fun play.

Best, Ron

Hey,

I started reading my copy of 1st-edition Wraith (which a very kind person sent me a while ago, when I was lamenting that I couldn't find one), and dammit, I'm having a terrible time getting through the mess in order to enjoy the strengths.

The trouble is, I'm spoiled by Doug Bolden's Ghost Light. Now that is a game about ghosts, and it remains as playable and wonderful today as when I first reviewed it for my and Ed's original Hephaestus' Forge back in 1999. My review does read a little rough today (note my misleading examples of Narrativist games, all of which were chosen for familiarity's sake and which I consider Narrativist only in that a determined Narrativist-inclined person can get them into usable shape mainly through subtraction rather than addition), but the main points are valid. Ghost Light really scratches my itch for "you play an ethereal dead soul" (note, not a dead guy). If I have to concern myself with my dead-soul character's Agility, I mean, it's already draggin' me way off the beam. And everything I read about Mentors and Circles, oh, I can't stand it.

I do like that Shadow business, though. 'Port that into Ghost Light, and ... wow.

Best, Ron

I hear that.  The most powerful game of Wraith that we played was a  wraith trying to talk her son out of suicide on he Christmas Eve after she had died.  No Tempest,  no Circle, no Stygia.  Just a wraith fighting to save her son.  And, honestly, most of the fighting was with her Shadow, which was trying to interfere.

And Wraith is a classic example of a great idea let down by its system.  Strength for a wraith?  Huh?

My dream port of the Shadow idea is to Sorcerer, actually.  Demons are all Possessors and are actually shards of the sorcerer's personality that he has hitherto suppressed.  Sorcery becomes the means to tap your own dark side for power.

Hmm.  I keep thinking about this idea.  Maybe I should just break down and do it....

I just wanted to say that this thread is being helpful to me as well in understanding all the issues that Clyde has brought forth.

A quick question, and not to derail, but in most of these conversations about WW, I keep seeing the phrase "the first four games" or variations thereof. Why is Changeling left out/singled out of the conversation? Does it succeed where the others didn't? Or is it that it failed in different ways than the other four? Curious about it...

Hi Daniel,

That's me who keeps being careful about that phrasing, because I want to speak only from my observations. I was not able to parse or keep track of the many small and large changes that Vampire, for instance, underwent through editions and revisions, including its face-lift two years ago. I don't know Changeling, or Adventure!, or Trinity/Aeon, or any of the other late-1990s White Wolf games. I did try to read Demon and Hunter, but have not made much headway. Of the more recent games, the only one I'm familiar with enough to speak about is Exalted.

Most of my comments about playing any of these games is drawn from discussions with others who played them intensively (some of whom thought they were enthusing at me and recruiting me to play), from the period relatively soon after publication, so maybe from 1992 or so through 1998 at the latest.

Best, Ron

Got it.
I'm not sure that Changeling would be much different to what you are describing. There are no clans/tribes/etc. but the niche divisions you are describing instead take the form of actual races (Satyrs as the hedonists, Pookas as the eternal tricksters, Trolls as the muscle-bound honor-driven tanks, etc.). There are organizations that sort-of define your attitude, the Seelie and Unseelie courts, but although staking an allegiance to one of them at chargen is a mandatory step, you can sidestep these or abandon them altogether during play without much loss to the overall system.

I get the feeling that Changeling had its own set of problems to deal with, not the least of which was the complete change in resolution mechanics from 1st to 2nd edition (aka. the bunk cards fiasco) and the fact that it never truly stated, outright and without vacilation, what the game truly was about, thus giving rise to the general consensus that Changeling was a frilly silly game and did not belong in the WoD.

Check out Dark Ages: Fae for a way to approach changelings without the obvious niches.  I think it's the much better of the two games.

Hi Ron,

People in other parts of the internet will no doubt soon be wailing and gnashing their teeth about it (...but...but I played AD&D2 and had fun! waaah!!! - and no doubt more than a few of them did), but your long post about player groups vs. character groups really crystalized for me what the bitter 'role-play vs. roll-play' arguments of yore were all about.

The 'team' can permit a lot of individual character expression, but there's a social constraint that keeps it in check. Likewise individual self-expressive characters can work together against adversity that happens to be jointly meaningful enough or generic enough, but if Being This Guy is the center of play, then there's a different social constraint which serves as a different bottom line.

As with all this stuff I do think there are a pretty fair number of groups who just managed to work out having both things at the table through consensus, some having more fun than others. But where the consensus wasn't found, and the problems emerge, that's where the ugly bitterness comes in.

Best,

Sean

This thread finally brought me out of lurker mode after quite a while.

First, I'd like to thank everyone here for addressing something I've been talking about for years and getting very little posative response or understanding about, which is the Great Idea/Weak Execution phenomina that is so prevelent in RPG's. World of Darkness and Rifts were always my poster-children whenever I'd bring it up. It's really sad. I love the referance material that White Wolf puts out, but the system and the playstyle encouraged by it are so painful that they render an otherwise amazing setting unplayable. This thread should be linked to the "System Matters" threads in game theory as a great example of exactly why system is so critical.

Secondly, the discussion on how Naritiveism works in practice is handy. The other two play styles I always had an intutive knack for understanding, Narritivism is a bit more ephemeral. Ron, we will discuss this further in August.

Interestingly enough, the most rewarding game I've ever been in was a Vampire game where I played an escaped Gargoyle slave. The weak system actually forced us to become Naritivist gamers. (this is before I even knew the term, or that play styles could be classified) We hated how the system functioned, so we began gaming in a way that called for as little dice rolling as possible. We'd sometimes make it for 4 or 5 hours and only ever touch the dice once. Generally things were just decided by what it seemed like the character's should be capable of, wheather or not it was supported by the system. As long as it was interesting, drove the story, and it seemed like it was within the relm of a character's abilities, the dice were ignored. Many times it was just a comparison of "dots" when there was conflict. Something like:

Me "I found the psycho priest I've been tracking? I'm obfuscated, right? I want to scare the bejesus out of this guy. Can I turn on Gleam of the Red Eye while I'm obfuscated and just look like a pair of glowing eyes and a hazy, indescernable, bat-winged outline?"
Storyteller: "I don't remember anywhere that the rules talk about using those abilities togeather, but It sounds reasonable. You've got an 8 dice intimidate normally, and this seems like something this fellow would be afraid of. He also has a willpower of 6. He feezes in place and wets himself." No dice needed.

The important thing to note here, is that we had fun and told a great story *in spite* of the system. I'd imagine that most people that played White Wolf, or Rifts, or Ad&D2ed will realize that they had similar experiences if they think about it objectively.