Kingdom: Involvement

Or, “You’re Magic, You Are”

I have to admit something. I really love games that blur the lines a bit. If you’re of an age, you’ll remember Over the Edge. That game had a suggested scenario that involved the characters finding out that they were the protagonists in an imagined fictional world. It then had them meeting first the GM, then the other players. Lots of people pointed out how this required the right players to be a lot of fun. I’m pretty much the textbook example of a “right player”. It jumps straight to what I want: a way to become invested in the game as a player on the meta-level of being a player, in addition to the actions of my character. I want my expectations, and the expectations of everyone at the table, to help shape the world.

This is not a revolutionary idea per se. FATE-based games like Spirit of the Century, Starblazer Adventures, and Diaspora use Aspects, player-defined traits that describe both characters and setting elements. Swashbucklers of the Seven Skies has the players working together to build the setting. Any game with freeform traits—such as Unknown Armies—allows a player to say to the GM “This is what I want to see” simply by naming those traits. Just about every section of GM advice worth it’s salt includes a section pointing out that it’s not just the GM’s game; it belongs to everyone.

That’s not to say that the GM must constantly bow to the whims of the other players, or that the characters can never fail. This is a fallacy that Malcolm’s been happily tearing to shreds in his GM as God entries here. The GM is God, but God must listen to his clergy occasionally.

Few games—in fact, I’m hard-pressed to name any, though I’m sure I’m wrong—have an in-setting explanation for why two groups’ stories can be entirely different in tone and theme and yet take place in the same game. If you’re running a World of Darkness game inspired by the works of Kelly Armstrong it’s going to look a lot different to one that’s Raymond Chandler with wizards. Both games are World of Darkness games, but neither has a reason for the other also being possible.

I like the idea of a group’s shared expectations having some impact on the game-world. It’s a powerful thing, and a resource that more groups should tap. So in Æternal Legends, we have the all-pervading magic. It suffuses the world. In theory, magic shapes the world—and magic is in turn shaped by those Legends who have ascended to the Source.

In practice, the tides of magic are shaped by the players. Magic is the in-setting way of saying: “It’s something that the group finds cool, so stop worrying and enjoy the ride.” Every game, without exception, has bits that make no sense. They exist purely to further the type of game that the writers want to write, and that players want to play. In Æternal Legends, that’s an explicit facet of the setting.

And because I’ve been thinking about Spheres again on and off, this leads me to a slight realisation. A Legend who reaches the Crown can sublime into magic rather than turning back; effectively becoming part of the magical field. Now, for groups who find this sort of meta-hacking interesting, that effectively gives the old character as much direct authorial control over the story as the players. And now that he’s on the meta-level, the character’s desires may not mesh with those of his player any more…

In this way, a long-running (or high-powered) Æternal Legends game may well take the route first outlined in Over the Edge, perhaps following a similar path to the hero in Grant Morrison’s Animal Man. It’s an interesting thought-experiment, if nothing else.

-Stew

Tags: Aeternal Legends, fantasy RPGs, Mob United Media, RPG design