Author: Richard

Anatomy of Game Design: Money and Economics

Let’s face it, roleplaying game economics suck.  Coming up with a monetary system that’s both balanced and believable is difficult at best and impossible at worst.  In part, this has to do with how currency works and what is afforded value.  Too much of what serves as currency and the issue becomes one of hyperinflation of a person’s net worth.  This is a huge problem in relation to the power structure underlying the progression to higher levels of play.

Money serves as a measure of a character’s power.  As such, money needs to be aligned with other progressions in the system.  Where levels represent combat prowess, they don’t explain how that translates into influence.  So, in addition to the balancing act of power, the economics of the game must coincide with the believable.  Characters start out poor as a way to provide incentive to go adventuring.  This helps establish the equipment selection is limited to items that do not give characters an edge that skews the math well beyond that which already favors player characters.  The expense of the item based on what it inflicts or prevents is a game mechanic as much as it is an economic one.

Characters should accumulate wealth over time.  The players will want this as much if not more than their characters.  The measure of a character’s growth is based as much on its social influence as it is combat skill.  Story wise, it’s great to defeat the dragon and raid its lair, but if, say, it has no treasure and never bothers the local populace, what benefit is it to the players who are trying to change the story world at large through their characters?  Unless this is a one-shot adventure there are actually two stories being told in an ongoing campaign:  the rise to power and the rags-to-riches tale.

The relative strength of the monsters and villains characters face effectively establishes the power/combat economy of the game system, but it doesn’t effectively illustrate how to apply this to the non-action portions of the narrative.  That’s where the economy of currency becomes key.  This is the other half of the equation for representing growth.  Both are important for illustrating the growth in power, but one is easier to design than the other.

One of the reasons for calling combat into question is to address a real concern in game design.  Many games lay out an elaborate system for conducting this exciting element of any RPG.  What they don’t detail is how to make a functioning economy.  Even the current edition of Dungeons & Dragons can’t tackle this topic despite having tables ascribing the treasure awarded per encounter per level.  It gives an economy without describing it.  This is not an isolated incident, but does show a way in which designers have approached this problem with no easy solution.

Why is it hard to make a working system in a sandbox game?  Consider this: despite their training, real world economists can’t predict or design systems that are flawless.  The subject is too complex and relies on numerous and intricate variables.  Closed system games like Monopoly might get away with a fixed economic model, but its rules ensure finite system will not be corrupted by external values, meaning real estate prices won’t fluctuate.  They retain their value, though this fixed price can be circumvented by a player in a negotiation.  Open systems like the ongoing narrative of a roleplaying game doesn’t benefit from that luxury.  What constitutes value is limited only by the story and the character.  More often than not, the designers leave this thorny problem for gamemasters to solve.

A few systems have used an abstract measure of wealth to avoid the issue altogether.  White Wolf’s World of Darkness games have long done this by requiring dice rolls for items which may exceed or damage a character’s wealth rating.  The d6 System by West End Games uses a similar approach.  One of the more intriguing methods has been d20 Modern‘s introduction of a Wealth statistic that is used as a modifier to a dice roll to see if an item is within a character’s financial reach.  All of these methods use a mathematical system that works well to emulate a real world economy.

Some systems, such as the point-buy games Big Eyes, Small Mouth and HERO, effectively dispense with actual currency values in favor of expending character points for items intrinsic to a character’s growth.  This combines both combat and socioeconomic power into one value.  While the story may make use of money, the game system doesn’t care and is thus insulated from any potentially unbalancing effects from reward totals.  Given the downplay of money on the math in other areas of the game, this alleviates the burden on the designer to have an economic engine other than suggestions for how quickly characters should gain points to go up another level/buy a new ability/improve an existing power.  Thus, the abilities one uses in that system are the commodities, which likely include social status.

So, barring a removal of money from the game, how does one enact an economy in a roleplaying game?  Trial-and-error.  This is how young gamers learn how to maintain a story world.  Doling out too much wealth either causes too many problems in a campaign, grinding the game to a halt, or leading to games of wretched excess.  Now, I’ll readily admit that the occasional dungeon run that nets millions of gold coins’ worth of treasure (known as “monty haul” games) is fun and breaks up the tone of the campaign so it doesn’t become too entrenched.  That said, a campaign that’s not built to explore the theme of characters drowning in the excess of their desires will grow stale quite fast.  When you get everything you want, you tend to get bored; at least that is the lesson of this narrative.

In all seriousness, there is no real way to learn how much money a character should have other than by finding out what constitutes too much.  There are ways to give both large payouts and drains on those gains.  For this reason, many games have suggestions for the following: taxes, room and board, equipment maintenance, miscellaneous bills, and so on.  Some games even cover large-ticket items like strongholds, ships, and magic items.  One area left out of most games is investment.  Castles, starships, +5 magical swords, etc. are all forms of investment, but these are combat oriented.  What’s needed is infrastructural money sinks.

By pouring money into community improvement projects, the game has a fully functional economy.  It also grounds a character in the community and lets a player feel as if he or she has a stake in the story.  None of this is covered in as system’s rules because it has little to do with how the game works.  The results of the money spent, however, may.  Then again, there are no rules explaining how characters own castles or portions of their communities.  Again, such actions are beyond the purview of most games.  This is one of the reasons economics get so little coverage in game rules.

Another reason why economics goes to the wayside in game rules has to do with the math.  Quite simply, it’s too complex and time consuming for most gamers to use in their sessions.  This is just for a basic system, forget about derivatives!  So one of the workarounds for all this complexity designed to explode your mind regardless of whether or not you’re wearing a helmet, is simply to generalize it as a component of storytelling.  Effectively, an infrastructure money sink.

To pry all of that bullion out of your players’ characters’ hands, you have to make them feel invested in the story you tell.  Economy in games is a negotiation between the needs of the story, the wants of the players, and the level of intimacy money has with the rules.  If all of this isn’t a nightmare for you, let’s look at crossover games.

The transfer from one era to another is sometimes more of a hassle than it may be worth.  The Wealth mechanic used by d20 Modern, for example, doesn’t really scale well for a time-traveling game where someone invests heavily in a company in 1950 and moves forward to 2010 to reap huge profits.  What would Wealth 20 in 1950 equal today?  Accrual of interest compounded over sixty years (not to mention value increases in the stocks) surely wouldn’t still equal Wealth 20.  Now, how much Wealth does 10,000gp equal?  Or, Wealth 20 equals how much gold?  Keep in mind that beyond a few differences in mechanics, d20 Modern and Dungeons & Dragons 3.5 are the same game.

Point-buy systems like GURPS, HERO, d6, and Big Eyes, Small Mouth have a wealth mechanic, but regardless of the genre, it remains an abstract value keyed to their respective core mechanics (or subsystems therein).  There isn’t much in these systems to address a scale equivalency from time or genre jumps, either.  So, how does one make an economic system that works?  Simply put: you don’t.  The best any system can offer is lists of equipment and services with prices that serve as a benchmark for charging characters.  This is all one needs to develop the economy of his or her desired world.  After all, the rules are meant to facilitate play, not what cultures and their respective objects of value are possible; and that, more so than the amount of an object available will set its price.  An item nobody wants has no value, no matter how rare it is.

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Anatomy of Game Design: Tricks of the Trade

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Anatomy of Game Design: Combat Basics

Castle Builder Reforged, Chapter 3 is available!

That’s right, folks.  Chapter 3 has been released.  I’m working on getting some “art” done to go opposite the table of contents for all three chapters so far.  I say “art” because I suck at drawing anything and these are mainly stylistically throwbacks to old school dungeon maps that featured the light/baby blue style used in the earlier days of gaming.  So, other than that, there’s nothing missing from the book that would affect your use of the material.

Anatomy of Game Design: Tricks of the Trade

Every class has a feature to distinguish it from every other class in the game. This not only allows them to fill a niche within the game world, but it also defines a class’ role. These are literally the tricks of that particular trade. Some of these signature features are as straightforward as a larger buffer of hit points and restrictions on weapon or armor choices. Others are more involved, such as spellcasting.

Without such a system, there is nothing that really makes one class choice better than another for a player’s play style. In this way, the class-based system is disadvantaged in that each class cannot be too broadly or narrowly defined. One of the workarounds found in classless, point-buy systems is to make such abilities cost-prohibitive for a player to purchase more than one. This puts the onus on the players – so long as the costs for abilities are balanced. If not, the designer has the same problem as if he had designed a class-based system that failed to hew that narrow line.

The balancing act is a problem at times. But, it is easier so long as you make use of archetypes. The common RPG archetypes are as follows: tank, band-aid, skill monkey, sneak, spell slinger, living weapon, naturalist, dilettante, face/mouthpiece/networker, and guardian. From basic concepts as these flow all other character types. These represent the prototypical niches that complement each other more for their affect on the rules than their literary counterparts do.

By understanding the roles these archetypes fill within the confines of the game system, it becomes easier to build the rules around the key roles the classes are meant to play. The same holds true for point-buy systems. While the rules may be packaged for ease of reference in a class system, the end result between the approaches is the same. Each rule that enforces the archetype defines the mathematical representation in relation to the core mechanic. For example, a rule that prohibits armor above a certain value for a wizard is a mathematical limit for how much nonmagical protection such a character can have against mundane physical attacks while playing up on the image of the robed figure wielding a walking staff and lightning at his fingertips.

When the basic archetypes have been defined, designers can mix components to create new ones. By knowing the value of the prospective abilities, the designer can ensure that no class is better than another. Due to the variety of approaches to the construction of roleplaying game mechanics, there is no way to measure how best to accomplish the mathematical balance between each class. That said, one should choose an ability that has the least impact on the game or can serve as the baseline average and give it a numerical weight of 1. Every ability should be compared to this standard and tested against the core mechanic to determine its numerical weight. The reason for this is because now matter how it is written, a power cannot be equal to all others. The best example of this is spellcasting. Besides, this is an excellent way to conduct playtesting.

The tricks of the trade should be relatively balanced as a package from one class to the next. The point is to create a role that complements, not eclipses, the others within the game system. Some systems do this by restricting the number of abilities a class has. Others use varying amounts of experience points for gaining levels to curb power levels. Still other systems curb abilities that have greater advantages than other abilities at different tiers of power. All of these, for better or worse, are mathematical representations of literary/storytelling concepts given tangible form. In effect: best guess estimates of how to proceed in creating the unique features we know as an archetypal class.

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Anatomy of Game Design: Skills

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Anatomy of Game Design: Money and Economics

Castle Builder Reforged, Chapter 3 submitted

Castle Builder Reforged Ch 3 CoverChapter 3 was uploaded late last night and I’m just awaiting for it to go live on DriveThru.  It may be available now, but as I’m at work and I set up this post hours ago, I have no way of knowing and giving you accurate information.  But, on the off chance that it’s available, I provided the link to my author page just in case so you can grab your copy as soon as it’s approved.

Television as a Source of Inspiration

While there are many television shows which have inspired me, there is one show above all others that stands out: The Twilight Zone. In fact, as a kid it was the only black and white TV series that I readily watched despite the last episode having originally aired 12 years before I was born. There’s something quite endearing about the series that took me years to really understand why it had such an appeal, meaning that it wasn’t until about a year ago that I figured it out. What the show really did was provide a commentary on the state of America after World War II. The series focused on our fears of a nuclear future, McCarthyism, and wretched excess.

 

So, why do I mention all this? One of the things that television can provide a gamemaster is a plethora of ideas that is more visually relevant than fiction when it comes to figuring out how to describe various situations in game. However, that is only a surface reading of the material that can be gleaned from the stories presented visually. And this is where the revelation that I had about Twilight Zone’s message in regards to the culture that produced it comes into play. Take for instance the episode “The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street.” If one just takes this is a surface reading, this classic episode is nothing but one of pure terror at the hands of an outside force. There is nothing wrong with this reading. But if one looks deeper, what you see is McCarthyism as the neighbors turn on each other in the growing climate of fear that was actually gripping the nation with the rise of communism in Eastern Europe and Asia. Another layer can be added to this as a direct parallel to the distrust fostered between neighbors in Nazi Germany.

 

I chose that episode as an example because it’s a well-documented one were all of these themes have been explored academically as to how they play out in the social commentary that shows how intertwined these issues truly are and the potential for America to repeat the mistakes of the Third Reich. The point of all that being that an active reading of television can reveal deeper structures than what one may glean in the first viewing of an episode. While not quite unlike the method used for symbolism in fiction, the visual content of television lends itself well to the storytelling techniques of a role-playing game because the job of the gamemaster isn’t to give insight into the mental faculties of nonplayer characters, but rather to provide visual descriptions of the world so that the players can best use how they fill their character should act based on the personalities each player has developed for his or her character.

 

Of course, this does not mean you as the gamemaster cannot incorporate some form of symbolism into the story. The differences, you cannot use literary techniques when the game relies upon visual details for the players to be able to interact with the world you are creating. One of the ways to develop a good library of details that you can use for your players is to develop the habit of actively watching television rather than just passively absorbing what you see before you. This is the lesson that I learned from The Twilight Zone in the way it comments on how post-World War II American culture is structured. And is for this reason why I experienced so much delight when I saw the stage version.

The (L)awful (Good) Truth, Part 5

The “Sins” of Time

 

The acts of today are the crimes of tomorrow. The sin of time is not any actual misdeed on the part of an individual. Rather, it is the reevaluation of the past based on the evolution of a culture. This moral interpretation of the culture’s history is something modern societies are used to. Each generation in its search for identity to distinguish it from its forebears holds a critical light on the past. This is not just a modern phenomenon, however. It is more noticeable with our modern technology. The stories of the past are not just told to keep the traditions alive. Each retelling of the story is couched in the language of the writer’s or speaker’s time.

The lens of time changes perspective, for some it may be a myopic one. Who killed Julius Caesar, why did it happen, and did he play an active role in his own death to gain a type of immortality? While historians have a plausible reason for their speculations, they are still interpretations of the available data. The same holds true for the thought process behind Alexander the Great’s decision to kill his father and seize control of Macedonia. Even with what evidence that still remains, no one can ever examine the contents of Alexander’s mind. The two men were products of their respective ages. What constituted lawful or good behavior for them does not necessarily translate to today. The inferences on the acts of history’s great figures have been viewed through the thought process of the day.

The very nature of human cultures’ tendencies to change with such rapidity means that today’s heroes may very well be tomorrow’s villains. With the revelation of new information or better technologies which allow deeper understanding, the views held often change. The shift may be gradual or abrupt, depending on how the new perspective comes about. There are those who will resist a cultural shock that knocks their lives off of their pedestals, but it is what the following generations believe that determine the outcome. The Victorians didn’t write about their era, they wrote about their parents’ and the social problems that resulted from past actions that affected Victorian life, just like the Romantics who rebelled against the Enlightenment did. The American and French revolutions of the eighteenth century are obvious forms of social shifts. In France, the Bastille became a symbol of tyranny and it was demonized as a place that held political prisoners; despite if this was true, such was the accepted view of the period. The shift in what had been and no longer was acceptable became symbolized in the structure and reached a critical point that the political and cultural structure could not be sustained.

The Lawful Good character born into a Lawful Evil society was used to show the concepts for how what one sees as the tenets of the alignment are subjective and can slide into another alignment. The hypothetical caricatures were without flaw to highlight the differences between the strict interpretations of the alignments. By themselves, the conceptual views are purified versions free of all their potential nuances.

The history of the country is this: long ago, forces loyal to Chaotic deities besieged the nation. The theocratic ruling council had always been a fractured lot. Invasion brought the council to its knees. The most prominent churches had a martial quality to them. One god was Lawful Good, the other Lawful Evil. Both had a common enemy before them. The two churches set aside their differences in order to preserve their system of government and its laws.

The invading humanoids had a semblance of a plan: drive a wedge between the council’s factions to distract them and keep cooperation from taking root. In such a state, the theocratic council would fall while the forces of Chaos did as they wished. It almost succeeded. The invaders had not considered that the more Lawfully-minded churches would make concessions amongst themselves. The combined might and codified systems aided the parties involved in planning counterattacks. Seeing that this was a war of annihilation, the terms stipulated that while genocide was not allowed, forced labor and bondage in perpetuity until captured combatants could be released as law-abiding souls was.

Contingency plans by the clergy of the Lawful Evil deity were enacted as the tide turned to favor the theocratic council. In a few key battles, the Lawful Evil troops were “delayed” or “ambushed” by pockets of humanoid units. The Lawful Good divisions most at risk were those of the church leaders. In a few cases, Lawful Evil leaders feigned incompetence and pulled their troops out of position, exposing their allies’ flanks to the enemy. The Lawful Evil clergy also used a couple of well placed assassinations to gain a clear majority. The deaths were publicly lamented and vows were sworn to honor the fallen by the Lawful Evil church. When the dust settled, the nation was in the hands of the Lawful Evil clergy, who were heralded as saviors.

With so few remaining to oppose their ascendency, the church was viewed as valiant heroes for the token members of other clergies they helped save. The clergy did nothing to dissuade the perception; in fact, they encouraged it. The Lawful Evil church bided its time as it slowly made changes which made it even more difficult to break their hold on power. As the remaining heroes of the various clergies died from old age, the institutions which played the greatest role in the nation’s survival were imbued with the credit. Through subtle manipulation, the Lawful Evil church received the lion’s share of favorability. When enough of a cultural shift had been engineered through the laws, the other churches faced sanctions that led to their criminalization. All other faiths became branded as enemies of the state eventually.

The enslavement became codified and, other than an occasional token figure, none of the humanoids were deemed capable of rehabilitation. The Lawful Evil church found it was to its advantage to keep the humanoids as chattel. Any frustrations a person had could be taken out on the enslaved. A few rumors of potential uprisings and even the occasional group escape went a long way in cultivating the xenophobia and paranoia necessary to institute draconian measures and legalized cruelty for anyone who does not contribute to the efforts to rehabilitate the enslaved creatures.

For the Lawful Good character, it is quite possible to engage in the codified institutions. The acts are couched in words like “defense,” “duty,” and “rehabilitation” to justify the character’s behavior. The interests of the state in perpetuation of its existence have used indoctrination and a skillful campaign of propaganda that promotes the greatest good of the populace at large. In this manner, the character can be a staunch supporter of the state (and thus become a potential villain) until learning the truth from outside of the government’s official channels.

In the point of their history in Gulliver’s Travels, the Lilliputians had always hated their enemies because of their scandalous beliefs. That was the way things had always been. Most were aware of the root cause for the dispute, but years of blindness to their own culpability prevented them from resolving the issue. Miscommunications combined with social shifts and the passage of time magnified the anger and distorted the historical truth. As a result, the true cause of the feud was all but lost in the heated rhetoric that became a prelude to war. Gulliver’s presence only sped up the timetable.

There may be some truth to the adage that history is written by the winner, but it is the job of the historian to rewrite it without bias. American history is not immune though many wish otherwise. Part of the reason extends into a more mundane reality: the changing nature of language. Colloquialisms and references to contemporary events fill the ages of any given document. They are, after all, products of their time. We use them as a species because they convey ideas quicker than other phrases might deliver. Shakespeare did the same with his humorous characters often receiving many of the lines. In part, this was to appeal to a broad audience, but humor requires a person remains topical for mass audiences. Some of these expressions, along with the writer’s bias, have to be translated or filtered out to get to the truth or reasons behind the words. The way to do this is to unpack the meanings and untangle the writer’s feeling from the event, not because such emotions are unimportant, but that they need to be placed in proper context to fully appreciate what they connote about the era.

Social shifts also spark debates. Change for the sake of change is as terrible as doing what others have always done without question. Many of these debates revolve around the status of social/racial/religious or other minority groups within the social fabric. There are also the issues of biological and reproductive rights and laws of who can own weapons. Every one of these issues serves as a potential spark to ignite passions and cause the tension to threaten stability. The requirements for governments to step in and make rulings on the traditional habits as well as the implementations and reasoning of laws and passage of time means that everyone involved is a potential villain in the eyes of the future.

Religion is not exempt from this. Is the faith as a whole contrary to our values or how it is interpreted by the believers of the age? Ask Martin Luther. He was a priest and challenged doctrine with his ninety-five theses. What about the split between Sunni and Shia? We may think in concepts, but language shapes how we transmit those thoughts to others. We cannot predict how people perceive those words when in the same room. How do we do so with a century or more separating speaker from audience? Some terms and words become obsolete or shift in meaning, deepening the potential for misreading and confusion. If this happens in the real world, how might the faiths of your game world interpret their holy texts and doctrines?

So, what does it mean to be Lawful Good? If you were the Lawful Good character in the Lawful Evil dominated country, how would you perceive the world without outside interference, and what would you do?

The (L)awful (Good) Truth, Part 4

The Flaws of the Flesh

 

The human condition is such that in some capacity, we all know too well the temptations of the flesh. Every hero has a flaw that blinds him in some way. Ask any storyteller if you do not believe this. It is by this means that authors use a fundamental characteristic of human frailty to illustrate the transition from an everyman into a hero. Flaws let us accept the character as one of us, making him or her real and only highlight the character’s exceptional qualities rather than detract from them.

The same rule holds for villains, only inversely so. The character flaws of villains are magnified by the inclusion of a redeeming trait. It is what makes us revile villains all the more. The most memorable villains are designed this way not just because it gives them a depth of realism, but also because it is a gift squandered. Not a gift of individual merit, but a gift for society at large. When we see the cruelty of an evil overlord that loves children or animals, it is what he does to the parents that we are not placated by his generosity like those he fawns over. That grotesqueness makes us want him stopped.

The misguided actions of a Lawful Good character brought about circumstantially through a flaw are no different. The erroneous action horrifies us far more than bogymen. When we see the flaws of the flesh dominate the soul of an honorable person, no matter how brief of a moment, we realize how far we can fall because the great ones are just as vulnerable to taking the easier path as we are. It is that one act of hamartia that makes the tension all the greater when the climax of the story approaches. Up until that point, his actions may be seen as unjust and immoral, but when the truth is about to be revealed, we fear the outcome and pity whomever the guilty party is.

This brings up an issue that is controversial and for many is darker and infinitely more disturbing: mental afflictions. It is a trope that has been used repeatedly in fiction and film. Consider Renfro from Dracula, cultists from H.P. Lovecraft’s Cthulhu mythos or even the mad god archetype like the World of Greyhawk’s Tharizdun. The truth is that while the loss of self or agency is terrifying, it is often inverted in a villain in the same method just described for qualities. The inversion of what is perceived as the natural order is used to construct a villain at the expense of this otherwise rich terrain. Mental illness is not inherently evil. Since alignment is but a reflection of basic tenets and habits, storytellers have a vast psychological landscape to explore – and exploit – in our characters. Imagine the OGL ranger’s Favored Enemy ability as an obsession (and an unhealthy one at that).

Any number of ailments or quirks can develop in a well-intentioned person. Traumas are often the catalyst that sends a character down the path of heroism. Often the character is haunted by that event, or even a series of them. Consider a character that develops Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. Make her a high-ranking member of society. Minus the desire for power, this could readily describe Lady Macbeth (out damned spot,” anyone?) after the horror of murder begins to eat at her. With such a fragile state, it is quite possible for the OCD to manifest from a need to wash hands frequently as a public safety precaution to an edict that oppresses a nation or a specific population, like a minority group, for being seen as a source of pollution (such as a group unable to bather regularly in this example) – perceived or otherwise.

Sadly, these flaws have a habit of showing up in national affairs. The physical and psychic failures and limitations leave an indelible mark on cultures and how they act towards outsiders. We do not have to look far to see this in action. Look at the political climate of the US over the last twenty or thirty years. The line touted by both Democrats and Republicans is that they seek to do what is best, but the influence many members of Congress fall to the traps of special interests and the pervasive power of money. These things, along with the desire to garner power amongst their supporters, lead to numerous problems. Without name-dropping or pointing fingers, there is enough news concerning any number of dishonest behaviors, whether an affair, controversial remarks, or even corruption charges at all levels of government.

The flaw of a character means he or she is capable of committing an act of unimaginable horror. In the moment it can be construed as an act for the good of all. A vice in the guise of one of Christianity’s seven deadly sins serves as an excellent starting point along with books on psychological disorders. Indiscretion on the part of a hero does not make him evil, but can lead to character traits that are neither lawful nor good to those on the receiving end. These flaws fall outside of alignment and are either rooted in beliefs or psychological issues, but they are the blind spots in everyone. It is how the character atones for his actions that prove he is good.

Still not convinced? Consult any religious or mythological text to find heroic figures that struggle with such flaws. When they rise above those failings, they are viewed as exemplars of what we can achieve as a species. When they fall, the story is a tragedy and a cautionary tale. Lest we forget the Lilliputians, their flaws that generated their conflict were pride and deep nationalism. What they sought was a promotion of the public good on either side of their cultural divide.

The (L)awful (Good) Truth, Part 3

Implementations and Habits

 

Up to this point the discussion on Lawful Good actions may have created a conundrum in how the literal interpretation works in the face of some of the examples presented thus far. It should be noted that characters in such circumstances come across as Lawful Good in all sorts of stories where these and other dubious predicaments exist. As such, we may have to rethink what is Lawful Good. Quite possibly how the alignment is implemented and the habits in question are will not suffice to explain the alignment in all situations.

In the last section, our Lawful Good character was born in a Lawful Evil nation. How does he live up to his beliefs without breaking the laws? This character is left with a difficult decision if we hold to the strict interpretation of the alignment. Two reasons for this: the protagonist in a story is the moral center of good and adages such as “the path of least resistance makes for crooked rivers and crooked men.” But it is clear the laws of the nation goe against the moral fibers of the character if he willingly follows them, right? Yet, if caught fallowing a Lawful Good deity, he would risk certain death, presuming he knows his god is LG and those sanctioned by the state are not.

The character is walking a fine line in searching for fellow worshippers in order to fulfill any desires of companionship. The risks are great on both sides. The character cannot attract too much attention and his would-be friends are going to be suspicious of his intents. After all, how do you trust when your nation’s laws promote ethics in opposition to yours? A lot of loyalty tests are likely to ensure as such groups will want to sniff out agents of the state before the secrets of the faith’s places of worship and meeting are disclosed. When lives and traditions are at stake, it’s prudent to be overly cautious.

Alternatively, the character could give the illusion of being a part of the social order. Such a character may go through the motions of the ownership of slaves. To keep the fiction alive, he could have the slaves scream out as the whip cracks above their heads. Granted this is a greater effort than just giving in and following the dictates of the law, but where’s the struggle that marks the story’s conflict? Heroes are supposed to struggle with these issues, stumbling along before conquering the temptation to conform to a system the audience feels is wrong. We wouldn’t care much for the characters if they didn’t take a stand, even if they ultimately realize they were wrong to challenge the system. We applaud them for taking a stand and asking the question along with the lumps earned from the attempt.

What is the key to winning an audience over in any medium? As hinted at above, it focuses on making the main characters sympathetic. The audience has to identify with the protagonist in order to foot for him or her. The challenge has to appeal to what the audi3nce wants to do but may not feel capable of doing in reality. It’s during the struggle that we begin to root for characters and hope the underdog wins in the end. After all, isn’t that a reason why people enjoy reading epic stories? The same holds true for epic quests in games right?

Habit can provide a power impetus for implementation of culture. After all what is tradition other than codified habits passed from one generation to another? So, an act done in the past, like enslaving a race bent on total destruction, may start out as a solution to a problem that no longer persists. When the legal or cultural codification governs how the habit cum tradition is to be performed, there is the kernel of the question “for what purpose does this rule still serve?” As a case in point, the traditions of the Lilliputians were ingrained habit for efficiency in egg consumption. Lawful cultures try to live orderly lives. To such ends were the Lilliputians a lawful society. And, if these are the habits that preserve the society, they become the traits that define the culture, especially when similarities between the two are so great that the smallest of contrasts are brought into the sharpest focus.

The adaptation of beliefs by governing bodies can follow similar principles. The political climate in America has grown ever more hostile in the past two decades (not that it hasn’t been heated before this time). As the two wings work to boil down their core beliefs into so-called “purer” concepts to define what they represent, what is really happening is a hyperfocusing on the scant differences between the parties. Replace the egg with the budget and the ends become the revenue sources the sides wish to tap. Ironically, both sides are trying to approach the same issue from a different vantage point. The Republicans have traditionally championed the concept in the adage of “Give a man a fish and feed him for a day; teach him to fish and feed him for a lifetime” as their plan. Democrats concurrently urge the establishment of programs to provide immediate assistance to those in need. Before a person can “fish,” you have to help him or her out while the skills are learned. Both methods of implementation comply with the Constitution’s order to protect the citizens and, depending on your viewpoint, promote the greater good.

Personal agendas, perceptions, and a lack of cohesion within the parties have helped blur the lines and tinted the lenses through which observers within and without the parties see both groups. So, while the pervious comparison might not ring true to some, it doesn’t invalidate the point that the goals of the parties are rooted in the methodology described above. Time, human error, and entrenchment of rhetoric have led to the distortion of the two parties and the murky divisions between them. In part, this is because so little exists to separate them.

Turning to a real-world religion, Muhammad was a soldier. He was also a faithful adherent of the religion he founded: Islam. He stressed the belief that Islam must be the dominant faith –by the sword if necessary. This is what a paladin does in OGL games. In this context, Muhammad was a crusader, which is the one-word summation of the Lawful Good alignment. Through such conviction and crusade, he preached that others who believed in the “one true God” and accepted Islam as the true and dominant faith would be tolerated, even if they would not receive the same privileges as Muslims. The European crusaders did much the same. And both sides persecuted those who didn’t accept the Judeo-Christian god; yet, followers of each faith believe what they did was both lawful and promoted the greater good. As in reality, many settings have included a theocratic state, such as Fire Emblem: Path of Radience, Warhammer 40,000’s The Imperium of Man, and The Theocracy of the Pale in Wizard of the Coast’s World of Greyhawk. In the instance of the Theocracy of the Pale, there are many similarities with the tenets of Islam. The key difference seems to be that the real-world efforts to subjugate secularism and other faiths within nations have been more successful than their fictional counterpart. There is a crucial difference in the doctrinal approach of the Theocracy of the Pale, however. The point of all of this: Lawful Good religions can go on the offensive without the need to terrorize a land first. All that’s required is a threat to the faith and the potential of corruption by dissenting viewpoints that might destabilize the power structure.

In the end, what matters is that we can see that the habits and methods of implementation of laws and traditions can vary widely while seeming strange, and possibly chaotic, to another. The traditions or methods can slip from good to evil without vigilance, one of the problems that can creep into any system that doesn’t allow some dissent in criticizing any shifts in policy from the established order. Hence, even if the society isn’t Lawful Evil, those enslaved beings are still in a precarious position along with their overseers. No matter how the deviation occurs or the conditions for the original traditions have ceased to exist, you have a source of tension that can lead a Lawful Good character to question what others perceive as being Lawful Good.

The (L)awful (Good) Truth, Part 2

The Hows and Whys of Choice

 

Choice is an extremely important element of morality and ethics. How the Lawful Good character approaches the quandaries of each dilemma, then, becomes an important part of how such a character conducts himself. A strict interpretation of the alignment holds that by being Lawful, a character will never willingly violate a law. But are such people able to choose whose laws to follow? Why are they allowed such leeway, if at all? It’s an important question with no clear-cut answer, as this section will illustrate.

Here’s the premise: a Lawful Good character is born and raised in a culture where the enslavement and torture of nonhumans is not only the accepted practice, but also failing to do so when such creatures get out of hand is construed as treasonous. A lot of questions beg to be answered, not least of which is how would a Lawful Good individual know any different.

So, how can a person of this alignment exist in such a society? It seems a position that’s tenuous at best. If he was holding to the alignment as it is usually interpreted, it doesn’t seem as if this is possible without some sort of deception on the character’s part. The two likely options that spring to mind are either keeping a low profile or hiding one’s beliefs. Keeping a low profile would include the need to remain quiet, which means the character must turn a blind eye to the acts of others, which is essentially being complicit with the acts. Lawful Good people would have to hide their views to avoid persecution. This would also include deception in the form of denial. As a dishonest practice, something seems off with a strict interpretation of the alignment in such a culture.

Now, it is easy for us to view such a place as being anything but good. Perhaps it is difficult because the only sentient species on Earth capable of propagating any evil against humanity is ourselves. If any human can be the victim of torture, then the possibility (no matter how remote) exists that it could happen to you. Consciously or otherwise, it’s a thought that terrifies us. Science fiction and fantasy can reframe the debate by adding other species to the equation. One can see a level of cruelty in Robert Heinlein’s The Puppet Masters. Humanity has to take a drastic step of eschewing clothing and accessories of all types to prevent the insidious aliens from taking over the planet via symbiotic enslavement. The only way to save the human race is to shed any notions of decency that informed the past. In Alien, Ripley jettisons her inhuman opponent out of an airlock. The orcs in Tolkein’s Lord of the Rings are also treated without mercy.

Before condemning this theoretically society, we should consider what could possibly lead to such draconian rules against nonhuman entities. The history of the society is important in making the determination for whether the situation in question is what it seems to be on the surface. Consider the possibility that a war for survival was waged some time in the past where the only solution that preserved the species on all sides of the war was complete domination of one group over another. Those who lost were hell bent on annihilating the humans. Given their general tenets, the powers that be decided to enact harsh measures near the war’s end when it became clear that no other solution would suffice. The Americans’ decision to drop atomic weapons on Japan was rationalized in a similar manner, minus any enslavement as in the society under examination. What sounds less distasteful, having to drive an opponent into extinction, or saving their progeny even if it means harsh treatment?

The above scenario presents a damning position for anyone forced to take it. For someone born after the fact and taught about the terrible price paid to make the decision and the two choices presented, this doesn’t sound as heinous as it could be. Knowing the choices and seeing the resultant peace doesn’t strike one as being necessarily evil. If the churches of the Lawful Good persuasion also support the government’s position, then it is even harder for a character to deny the oppression of another species. Either the gods agree with the treatment, or something ghastly is going on. Or, perhaps the individual of the Lawful Good alignment in the society is ignorant. In either case, there is a history that backs up a morally and ethically justified position that looks gruesome to anyone looking in from the outside.

Let’s change the scenario a bit. Say there is a state religion where the truth of the teachings is hidden behind a code that appeals to a Lawful Good sense of propriety. All other faiths would likely be outlawed in order to bolster state power. As such, the conditions within the nation’s borders would be reinforced and glorified by the churches granted official status. A Lawful Evil deity could fill the role by masquerading as a militant figure. The harshness of his teachings and promotion of obedience to his teachings as the pathways to the greatest good would make an excellent cover for the continued treatment of nonhumans as necessary so that they, too, can achieve paradise.

What happens if the Lawful Good person discovers he has been lied to and that everything he’s been taught is a violation of his ethos? The character would be in a bind. Obviously, the Lawful Evil deity would no longer be suitable for worship. Issues on how to survive without openly breaking the laws and violating his beliefs have to be resolved. Would the character pay lip service to the official deity will illegally worshipping someone more appropriate? Does church law supersede state law? Would such a person risk such a threat to personal safety treasonous actions impose when it is easier to just follow social dictates? Is there justification for a national good rather than a universal one? The answers may be as unappealing as the questions.

Let’s return to the Lilliputian leaders called upon in the previous section. Again, the two sides were concerned with the preservation of their cultures. From our vantage point, the reasons appear quite childish. But how does one suppose they felt? The cultural aspect stems as much from the geographical as it does preference. As such, we see it as national pride that fuels the argument. To accept the claim of the other nation as legitimate would be an admittance to its right to exist, and due to its own nationalistic feelings, belittles the embittered acceptor. This is true even if it is a subconscious affair for the view engaged in such a long-term rivalry.

In a government with multiple political parties, each can work for similar ends by approaching issues from different philosophies. Things get murkier, however. The charter that delineates the governmental power may be the basis of authority, but it doesn’t necessarily describe how to perform and execute the duties of office. The lack of guidance on how to govern beyond the procedures and limits on power create obstacles in the form of philosophical roadblocks where rhetorical detritus litters the road to a nation’s future. The choices may strike a political opponent as nationalistically destructive, but it’s a strategy evolved to enact what is believed to be the best way to achieve national goals. Like previous examples, it is the choice and reasoning behind it that colors one’s view of the other.

Religions are no stranger to sectarianism. Monotheistic faiths are not monolithic. Judaism, Christianity, and Islam all have sects; so too Buddhism. If the real world works this way, wouldn’t various chapters of a deity also have discrete doctrinal differences? Add to this the heroes of a church or sect. What if the hero was also a patriot? Who selects which figures are enshrined as heroes? If the faith is the state religion, chances are pretty good that national heroes will be portrayed as icons embodying the faith’s (and nation’s) highest tenets, such as Romulus as the founder of Rome. If our own real-world religions have saints and martyrs who struggled with the question of choice, why shouldn’t the faiths in your own campaign have the same?

You should think about how the people of your campaign world come to their decisions and why they act the way they do. After all, it is the basis for their Lawful Good tenets. Somewhere, a choice and its justification were made, and they continue to be made with each successive situation and/or generation.