[SPLINTER] One Game, Two Worlds, Two Separate Core Mechanics
Posted: Fri Feb 03, 2012 8:29 pm
Hi. Splinter is an indie RPG that I've been developing more-or-less all by my lonesome since 2008. I'm not going to post the whole entire game here in one giant chunk and say "what do you think, sirs?" because by observation, that's not how the Den works. So I think a focused discussion of one aspect of the game (or at least an attempt at that) would be better way to start.
It's more than a little intimidating posting my homebrew game at a place that frequently has threads like "Anatomy Of Failed Design: Relatively Popular And Successful RPG", but I feel like it would be foolish of me not to avail myself of the expertise here since in between the vitriol, there is a fuck ton of expertise here.
Here is the basic fluff which is like everything a WIP, albeit only narrowly. I know it's a bit..."bombastic" and very pitchy. And that's intentional. The fluff stuff is not actually what I'm looking for critique on here, and neither's the overall concept. That stuff is just necessary to get to the mechanics stuff.
***
So basically, if you can wrap your head around this, you the player of this RPG Splinter are playing a Player, a "real person" in the dystopian future of 2741. Your Player--that is to say the player's Player--is a contestant in the Game, an ultra-violent VR reality show that takes the form of a perilous dungeon crawl through an infinitely vast environment that is something like a cross between your standard D&D mega-dungeon, the setting of the movie Dark City and the megastructure from the manga Blame!. In the Game, your Player controls an Avatar, one of the native people of the Realm, the "world" where the Game takes place. And all Avatars are shape-shifting demi-gods.
(They don't start out more relatively powerful than say, 1st Level D&D 3.5E characters, but the Game's Avatar leveling mechanic literally measures "what percent of a god you are". So an Ascension 0 character is <1% of a God and an Ascension 12 character is ~12% of a God. The system isn't mature enough, but I'm fairly sure that Ascension higher than 20 (more than 20% of a god) would be the point where PC Avatars cease to be playable.)
Every player's Player is tied to exactly one Avatar. If a Player's Avatar dies in the game, the Player dies too; they can't "roll a new character". (Don't worry, you the player player at the table don't actually die.)
The "real world" of SPLINTER really really hyperbolically sucks. Think less Shadowrun, more 1984. But whether you're an academy trained pro or an unlucky criminal or resistance fighter who was caught and forced to play, you have the same odds of survival and chance at success within the Game itself. And success within the game can lead to Fame, which in a world based on entertainment is the most important kind of power.
***
The game of SPLINTER uses two separate sets of mechanics, one for Player scenes (that take place in the real world and might make up 10-25% of the average campaign) and one for Avatar scenes (which take place in the Game within the game, and might make up 75-90% of the average campaign). While Player stats impact Avatar stats in some ways, for the most part the rules systems are totally incompatible with one other. They don't need to be compatible because the Earth and the Realm are two completely separate "dimensions"--there is no transference between one and another. Monsters from the Game can't come into the real world, and Players can only enter the Game in the form of their Avatars, which are not, strictly speaking, themselves.
Because I see the Real World/Earth segments as being focused much more on roleplaying and the Game/Realm segments as being focused much more on exploration and combat, the Earth rules are extremely rules-lite (although note that I DO want there to be rules for play on Earth and I DO want them to be separate from the mechanics of the Game). The Realm rules very much aren't rules-lite and tend to be kind of the opposite.
The other thing that the Earth rules are besides "lite" is if you imagine a spectrum between "realistic" and "empowering" very much on the "realistic" end. It's meant to be a dystopian setting, so your capabilities in the Earth rules are very much constrained by realism; i.e. if you get shot with a gun, you will probably die.
I'm going to talk about the rules-lite Earth/"Real World" mechanics first, because those are the ones I'm less confident don't suck.
It's more than a little intimidating posting my homebrew game at a place that frequently has threads like "Anatomy Of Failed Design: Relatively Popular And Successful RPG", but I feel like it would be foolish of me not to avail myself of the expertise here since in between the vitriol, there is a fuck ton of expertise here.
Here is the basic fluff which is like everything a WIP, albeit only narrowly. I know it's a bit..."bombastic" and very pitchy. And that's intentional. The fluff stuff is not actually what I'm looking for critique on here, and neither's the overall concept. That stuff is just necessary to get to the mechanics stuff.
All of the text following this fluff is suffering with some terminology issues, but hopefully I'm making any damn sense at all; if not let me know and I will try and explain better.The year is 2471 and Games Corp controls the world.
The massive international mega-conglomerate, along with their (secretly wholly-owned) governmentally assigned monitoring organization, the Entertainment Broadcasting Consortium (EBC) control all of humanity. Nations, boundaries, and governments are a thing of the past, an obsolete irrelevancy.
All that matters is the Game.
The Game is what holds the world’s disparate cultures together as one people. The Game captivates them, binds them, rules every aspect of their lives.
The Game is, simply put, everything. The Game combines every nation’s penal system, professional sports leagues, and media entertainment into one tremendous chimera of an organization, part ruling body, part cultural phenomenon.
A few fortunate (or extremely unlucky) thousands actually play the Game. These range from convicted criminals trying desperately to win their own freedom (and in 99 out of 100 cases, they die trying) to the elite caste of Players, who are genetically engineered from birth and who spend their entire lives training in ultra-competitive academies. Of course, most of them end their careers dead too.
Millions more make their living keeping the game running, work ing in a dozen different capacities, from the lowly technicians to the corporate Administrators and Producers, the ruling aristocracy.
And every single one of the 6.2 Billion inhabitants of Earth watches The Game. In fact, if you don’t at least keep up the appearance of watching the game, you are red-flagged for governmental observation by the EBC Overwatch.
The entire surface of the world has changed into nothing but a massive user interface, connecting you to the game.
On the most basic level, the Game’s rules are extremely simple. There is only one rule: survive. But the devil is in the details, and the game is the most complex, detailed, and complete game every designed. Its history is a hundred billion times longer than the history of the planet earth. Its area is infinitely vaster. And its shape is infinitely stranger.
The Game’s board is the largest and deepest ever created: The Splinter. It is an entire world, a universe, all indoors, with no sky but a hundred artificial suns and mechanical moons. It takes the form of an enormous megastructure, an ecumenopolis or Dyson sphere, a hundred, thousand, or million times the size of the Earth. In addition to being nearly infinite in size, the game’s world is constantly changing. The Game’s rooms, zones, structures, levels, and areas constantly shift at varying rates.
Sometimes, a new floor will gradually grow or collapse over the course of a decade. Other times, the changes are violent enough and fast enough to cause players to be smashed alive, caught between an expanding wall and a hard place.
The Splinter’s technological level varies randomly from room to room, zone to zone, and level to level. While the majority of the Splinter’s architecture resembles a vast and incredibly intricate medieval dungeon labyrinth, everything from decaying and condemned shopping malls to glistening steel superstructures can be found within its expanse.
The Splinter’s zones span everything from pre-stone age to unimaginably futuristic technologies, indistinguishable from magic, blending with one another chaotically. The technologies found in the Splinter include thousands of strains never before invented by man, alternate paths of invention we never took at hundreds of junctures in our evolution; steam-powered clockwork computers, living guns made of interlocking bones and soft tissues, and devices so complex that the human science still cannot come close to understanding what they are, and how they work.
The inhabitants of the game—and the Avatars taken on by the players—are equally strange, radical evolutionary sports that went down paths of development that humanity never dreamed of. Neither truly antehuman or posthuman, they are humanity seen sidewise. All of them have the ability to spontaneously shape change, and the magic like power to Tune; to reflexively or intentionally change reality in the Splinter through will alone.
The Programmers have long since ceased being able to control on any major level the development of the Game’s setting or its players. They can still insert and extract players, and create minor changes, but they cannot control the development of the game’s world or its inhabitants. This makes the Game more exciting for everyone.
The Game is a virtual reality construct. The Players plug in first-hand, and can control the action. Those who succeed are the world’s rockstars, athletes, and media darlings. Those who fail bleed out in the chair and are forgotten when tomorrow’s fans rise. The richest viewers can plug into VR right in the studio, seeing, hearing, and feeling everything the Players experience. The rest of the world watches their favorite Players glued to their holograph sets. The best games are recorded, the recordings endlessly played and replayed. The Game is not fixed. It is real. Even the death. Who could ever look away?
By choice or misadventure, you have become a Player.
WELCOME TO THE GAME. WELCOME TO SPLINTER.
***
So basically, if you can wrap your head around this, you the player of this RPG Splinter are playing a Player, a "real person" in the dystopian future of 2741. Your Player--that is to say the player's Player--is a contestant in the Game, an ultra-violent VR reality show that takes the form of a perilous dungeon crawl through an infinitely vast environment that is something like a cross between your standard D&D mega-dungeon, the setting of the movie Dark City and the megastructure from the manga Blame!. In the Game, your Player controls an Avatar, one of the native people of the Realm, the "world" where the Game takes place. And all Avatars are shape-shifting demi-gods.
(They don't start out more relatively powerful than say, 1st Level D&D 3.5E characters, but the Game's Avatar leveling mechanic literally measures "what percent of a god you are". So an Ascension 0 character is <1% of a God and an Ascension 12 character is ~12% of a God. The system isn't mature enough, but I'm fairly sure that Ascension higher than 20 (more than 20% of a god) would be the point where PC Avatars cease to be playable.)
Every player's Player is tied to exactly one Avatar. If a Player's Avatar dies in the game, the Player dies too; they can't "roll a new character". (Don't worry, you the player player at the table don't actually die.)
The "real world" of SPLINTER really really hyperbolically sucks. Think less Shadowrun, more 1984. But whether you're an academy trained pro or an unlucky criminal or resistance fighter who was caught and forced to play, you have the same odds of survival and chance at success within the Game itself. And success within the game can lead to Fame, which in a world based on entertainment is the most important kind of power.
***
The game of SPLINTER uses two separate sets of mechanics, one for Player scenes (that take place in the real world and might make up 10-25% of the average campaign) and one for Avatar scenes (which take place in the Game within the game, and might make up 75-90% of the average campaign). While Player stats impact Avatar stats in some ways, for the most part the rules systems are totally incompatible with one other. They don't need to be compatible because the Earth and the Realm are two completely separate "dimensions"--there is no transference between one and another. Monsters from the Game can't come into the real world, and Players can only enter the Game in the form of their Avatars, which are not, strictly speaking, themselves.
Because I see the Real World/Earth segments as being focused much more on roleplaying and the Game/Realm segments as being focused much more on exploration and combat, the Earth rules are extremely rules-lite (although note that I DO want there to be rules for play on Earth and I DO want them to be separate from the mechanics of the Game). The Realm rules very much aren't rules-lite and tend to be kind of the opposite.
The other thing that the Earth rules are besides "lite" is if you imagine a spectrum between "realistic" and "empowering" very much on the "realistic" end. It's meant to be a dystopian setting, so your capabilities in the Earth rules are very much constrained by realism; i.e. if you get shot with a gun, you will probably die.
I'm going to talk about the rules-lite Earth/"Real World" mechanics first, because those are the ones I'm less confident don't suck.