Kiss and a Slap: Star Trek Adventures Review

For those new to the blog, which is almost certainly almost everyone who comes to my blog, I rarely do reviews. When I do, I do them in a format called "Kiss and a Slap". That's where I list 10 things I hate about the product, and then 10 things I love about it. The idea is to give an honest review that admits the shortcomings of a product in the format of constructive criticism. Normally, I just review adventures, but today I'm tackling a bigger beast. I'm going to review a whole goddamn game system. Because I CANNOT stay silent about this game! Now, before I get to it, I'm going to head off some of the flack I might get for my criticism of someone's favorite game. I believe the following:

1. Nothing is perfect.
2. Nothing is sacred.
3. All things are deserving of criticism.
4. Anything that can be improved should be improved.
5. your feelings are meaningless.

OK! Let's dig in!

 

The Slaps

1. It's so fluffy I'm gonna DIE! Look, I get it, Star Trek is massively overwhelming to people new to the fandom. It's hard to get people onboard with Trek content. The lore is intimidating. And I can understand dedicating a section of the book to conveying the fundamental basics of the setting to new audiences. That's fine. What is definitely NOT fine, is that it is jumbled up and mixed in with the rules text of the game throughout the goddamned book!!! At first, it starts out reading like an admiral addressing you as a captain who is going to be in charge of a new ship. That's OK, a framing device works. But they don't stick to it. It's like they repeatedly forgot they even had a framing device in the first place. They dedicate multiple pages of setting explanation just to follow it with one paragraph of rules with no visual distinction between the two or even a heading to mark the actual rule. To confuse matters more, they have 2 types of sidebars in the book; purple and pink. Pink ones are USUALLY fluff, and purple ones are USUALLY rules... except some rules are in pink sidebars and some purple sidebars contain no crunch whatsoever. The end result is that you have to read everything- EVERY-FUCKING-THING, just to make sure you didn't miss something, and I guarantee you, you will miss something. Now, don't get me wrong, this isn't the worst I've ever seen. That award goes to Polaris. (Not the french one.) But this is a close second place.
2. Disorganization in the extreme. Here's how it reads: Here's some fluff! Here's a rule! By the way, before we finish explaining that rule, here's a note about another rule that sometimes applies to this rule. Here's some fluff! Oh by the way, here's the rest of a rule we started explaining a few pages ago. And here's a list of all those side rules that keep interrupting the main rules explanations! More fluff. Here's the end of that other rule we didn't finish explaining earlier. Oh, by the way, in another 100 pages there's a stray sentence that clarifies something on this page. It is a god damn outrageous mess. It makes the game nearly incomprehensible to new players. Watching Modiphius play their own game, it's clear that even they don't fully understand it, since they forget something different in every episode. (Like, for example, resistance being rolled in challenge dice, not a flat penalty) A perfect example of their disorganization is that multiple playable alien species, some of the MOST ICONIC species, including Klingon and Romulan, are in the back of the goddamn book, rather than in line with the playable species section at the start of the book!
3. Muddled language. Throughout the book, they make it clear that their task resolution system is called a Task. Fine, good, that's easy to understand. (Except that 25% of the time they accidentally call it a check!) Later, in combat, it is revealed that each player can make a minor action and a task on their turn. OK, so that means they can do a thing that requires no roll and a thing that requires a roll, right? NOPE! Not all combat tasks require a roll! That means combat tasks and normal tasks are two separate mechanics that share the same word! So you can take a task that makes you make a task! Fucking brilliant! Genius! And if you only have minor actions and no other type of action, why include the adjective "minor"? That's fucking idiotic! There's a reason I changed the terminology to major and minor actions in my notes. Another example of poor language is regarding terrain effects. Throughout the book, they imply that terrain effects are applicable specifically to zones, and are separate from scene traits. One sentence hidden amongst the copypasta jungle that is the GM section bluntly states that terrain effects are just traits. HOLY FUCKING SHIT WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST SAY SO INSTEAD OF BENDING OVER BACKWARDS TO AVOID YOUR OWN DAMN TERMINOLOGY?! And this slap isn't done yet, either! Yet another example of poor language is the word "Spend". They never define the meaning of this word in mechanical terms or the conditions under which a spend may be invoked, but they use the term throughout the book as if it should be plainly fucking obvious! And you know what? It probably would be for fans of other 2d20 games, who are familiar with the system, but this game is appealing to people who don't game and have never heard of 2d20 in their fucking lives! Acknowledge the reality of your damn audience, you pretentious pricks! Yet more terminology that gets confusing; traits can apply to a character, a situation, the environment, and equipment. That sounds good, right? Here's the wonky thing: Equipment are traits. That means equipment are traits that can have traits. It gets weirder. Groups of NPCs can be traits, who have equipment in the form of traits, which might have traits of it's own. I'm not a fan of babushka doll mechanics.
4. Never, EVER give one player authority over the other players! This game violates a fundamental game design theory principal: If you give a player authority over the other players, they will invariably abuse it. This game practically demands that a player be given the position of captain of the ship. This is a one-way trip to a fucking disaster show. It gives absolutely no warning or alternative options. Even worse, the designers are clearly aware of this fact, because not once in any of their live plays do they show a player captain, the GM always makes them an NPC! Always! If you know it's a fucking bad idea, why do you promote it to people who have no experience that would tell them so?!
5. Copypasta! Copypasta everywhere! One obnoxious thing about this book is that, later on, beginning about halfway through, any time it references a previously explained rule, it copies the text from earlier in full, followed by explanations, expansions, or addenda. This makes it really hard to read because I don't want to waste my time rereading shit I already know, but I also don't want to miss out on the book finally explaining a rule in full. I get the impression this happens to a lot of people, and they wind up skipping the copied sections completely, as the most forgotten rules are the ones that are hidden at the end of a copypasta chunk. This is why you don't redundantly copypasta your own rules. If you have to reference back to a rule, give a page number or a heading title and let the reader go find it if they need a refresher. My god what inefficient writing.
6. The task resolution system fucking sucks. OK, let's get down to brass tacks and talk crunch. The D&D task resolution system is simple: Roll 1d20, add ability modifier, check if proficiency applies, add proficiency mod if necessary, compare result to DC. 5 steps. Quick and easy. Most of those steps are done simultaneously if the player knows what all of their stat mods and proficiencies are off the top of their head. STA's task resolution system is 17 fucking steps long. Don't believe me? Go download my notes, I break it down in there for you. This is obnoxious, and it doesn't actually achieve anything of relevance. The individual dice still have a flat distribution, so play is still arbitrarily swingy, it just doesn't have easily predictable success percentages because it's a dice pool system. It doesn't even do what dice pool systems are supposed to do either, since the cap is 5d20!! The whole idea of a dice pool system is that you roll handfulls of dice to feel obnoxiously powerful! Way to go on completely missing the point of your own resolution system!
7. Combat is a drag. I hate single turn combat. I think it takes for fucking ever and achieves very little. At the end of the day, all that matters in combat is: Did we win and how much did that win cost us? That's it. And I don't feel like spending an hour or two obsessing over the minutiae of how the players got to that result. Especially in Star Trek. I don't know if you've ever seen the show, but combat was always a last resort. Almost no episodes had the characters pulling phasers, and when they did it was usually just an exchange or two and then the fight was over. The characters were, above all, peace focused, genuinely concerned with achieving positive social relationships! They aren't soldiers, they're paramilitary explorers, scientists and politicians! Sure, they defend the Federation from interstellar threats when necessary, but their main tools in combating said threats are their minds and their words, with weapons only being drawn in response to violence. This isn't fucking D&D, guys, there's no loot to be collected from the corpses, no XP to be earned from slaying foul beasts, and no treasure chest behind the guardian! The game kind of acknowledges this, as a character's reputation can be easily dragged down by resorting to violence needlessly.
8. Internally inconsistent rules. OK, this is primarily a complaint from my simulationist and minimalist tendencies. Not all people will agree with me on this, but I think it is a huge mistake to have NPCs and PCs follow different rules. Plain and simple, it's a goddamn mistake. First off, it results in rules bloat- a problem this game already suffers from severely- as you need to explain one set of rules for player characters, and then a whole different set of rules for NPCs. Secondly, it means NPCs can do things players cannot, or vice versa, even if that NPC is technically identical to the PC. Eventually, someone at the table will make tactical decisions regarding an NPC based on the assumption that they are just as capable as the PCs, and that strategy will be wrong. Nothing is more blatant than the rules regarding NPC starships. When NPCs target PC ships, they always hit a system on a breach, even if they weren't aiming at a specific system. If the players target a ship without aiming at a system and score a breach, that ship goes through a completely different track of damage effects. Another example is that PC starships get turns equal to the number of PCs on the bridge. NPC starships get a number of turns equal to the scale of their ship. That means a scale 3 ship with 6 PCs aboard will always annihilate an identical twin NPC of their own ship! Or how minor NPCs can't take the Avoid an Injury spend, while major NPCs can do it limitlessly! (Notable NPCs can use the spend once, but there's no clarification if they can use the Recover action to regain that use) Most of this is an easy fix. Either run NPCs equally to PCs, or apply NPC rules to the PCs. (For example, allow NPCs to use the nonspecific targeting breach track for PC ships, and limit PC ship turns to ship scale so the captain has to decide which crew should act and when.) But that shouldn't be necessary!
9. Warp factor schmorp schmactor. The game does not give a damn about travel times or distances. The game is designed with the assumption that play opens with a ship arriving in a system, doing stuff in that system, and then ends with the ship warping out of that system. Nevermind episodes that happened while on the move at warp, or in multiple systems! Maybe I'm just being a simulationist again, but I kinda want to see more than just the missions! I kinda want to give my players a taste of what starfleet life would feel like, off the clock! What kinds of times we're looking at, how people keep themselves occupied aboard a giant negative pressure submarine! That kind of stuff! This game doesn't care. The closest it gets to caring is that it states a sector is 20 lightyears across, gives a listing of how fast each warp factor is, and gives you a sector map of the alpha and beta quadrants. The only thing that's missing is the MAXIMUM WARP OF EACH SPACEFRAME. Which leaves the GM in the homebrewing lurch. So much for supporting different styles of play. It also states that warping out of a system costs power equal to the warp factor chosen, which puts unusual limits on certain spaceframes that should be faster, and enables certain ships to go faster than they should be able to. Stated along with that rule is that you can pursue a ship at warp by spending 1 more power than they did, but it gives no explanation of what happens when you catch up to them!
10. False promise regarding alternate playstyles. The book repeatedly makes a point of saying it supports alternate playstyles, such as lower decks, or different eras of play. The problem? There's little to no content support for that! For example, let's say I wanted to play an ENT era game. There's no NX-01 spaceframe! Or spaceframes for any other vessels from that era! Let's say I wanted to play a lower decks game, what would the characters do other than just get bossed around by the bridge crew NPCs? Even with the expansion books, this idea that "any kind of Star Trek game can be played with these rules" is patently false, unless the GM puts up some serious work to make relevant content for such play. Frankly, I think the developers have an absurdly narrow vision of the potential for the setting.
11. Challenge Dice are retarded. Somehow I ALWAYS wind up with an 11th complaint! The game calls d6s "challenge dice". No, they are never used to determine how challenging something is, or to resolve a challenge. Rather, they are invariably used to determine the effectiveness of a player's actions. Weird ass name aside, (should really be chaos dice or something) the way they roll is also idiotic. See, instead of rolling for their face value, each face has a value stored on a table somewhere in the CRB. 1=1, 2=2, 3=0, 4=0, 5=1+effect, 6=1+effect. The effects are neat, but it is not necessary to completely rewrite the way the dice roll just to justify that. The real reason they reduce the die roll values, is because player character HP er... Stress... can be between 8 and 17 points. With such low survivability values, the damage output had to be reduced, but they seriously could have come up with a better system. (For example, you could just say that the result gets divided in half, rounded down, and 6s generate an effect. Super simple. 1=0, 2=1, 3=1, 4=2, 5=2, 6=3+E.)

The Kisses

1. It FEELS like Trek! Oh my god do they get the feeling right! The whole book is in LCARS style, and the art has a unified aesthetic! The content matches the attitude of Star Trek, and everything about it just feels right! Moreso than any other RPG incarnation of Star Trek, they nail the mood like it's nobody's business! If you love Trek, this book will enchant you so hard the system's failings will seem mild by comparison.
2. Highest quality production I've ever seen. A woven spine separate from the hardback spine, full bleed white-on-black pages, a unified aesthetic, this book is a god damn masterpiece. It is beautiful, it is durable, it is easily one of the highest quality gaming products I've ever bought! Truly magnificent.
3. Chargen and ship creation are fun! It's an absolute blast to make up characters in this game system! The lifepath system actually produces characters who are relevant to play, unlike other Sci-Fi games that produce mostly hodgepodge nobodies. (I'm looking at you, Traveller) The addition of mission profiles significantly expands the statistical variety of ships available to the players! (And, I'm not sure, but I think you're supposed to apply them to NPC spaceframes as well maybe?) Despite the complexity of the rest of the game to understand and play, getting started is super easy and enjoyable. Gold star for that.
4. Modiphius is actually really cool. You know how WotC is only nice when they're engaging in a marketing ploy? Yeah. Modiphius is actually just nice. Bought the Core Rule Book? Contact them with proof of purchase, and they'll send you the PDF for free! Bought the PDF? They'll set you up with a discount on the CRB! They offer an extensive free-to-play and publicly accessible living campaign! Their website offers a variety of free products, including an introduction PDF that can get people playing ASAP with far less fluff! Their staff are personally active, not only on their official communities, but also on the major fan communities as well, and the company divests itself of responsibility for their actions, so they can unofficially say whatever they want and not worry about losing their jobs just because it wasn't vetted first. (Within reason. I'm sure if one of them started posting swastikas all over the place, he'd be short on employment rather swiftly.) The staff who make the game are also the people who play the game, and part of their marketing is to show their in-house games to the public via their youtube channel, which gives a great insight into what they intend this thing to play like! Just, in every way shape and form, Modiphius is simply cool.
5. Supporting characters are a genius mechanic. In Star Trek, there are often many more characters than there are in the average gaming group. Often, characters must be split up in different simultaneous situations. STA handles this by giving each ship a crew support score, which is a resource players can spend to create slightly less advanced characters to fill in the gaps, or to participate in scenes where they would otherwise be unavailable. For example, let's say an away team gets sent down to investigate some spooky ruins. The Chief of Security's player says that given the risk of a Romulan attack, he should remain aboard, and so he spends 1 crew support to create a supporting character, a security officer under his department, whom he sends down on the away mission. Now, whenever the scene switches back and forth between the ship and the away team, that player still gets to be involved, if even at a slightly reduced competency in one instance. Another example is to use crew support to fill roles the players don't want to do. For example, if nobody is interested in medicine, they could make the Chief Medical Officer a supporting character. Then, whenever someone needs healing they just spend a crew support and transport that character on to the scene! I also have an idea for the command role issue. I've been thinking about making the CO an NPC, and then making the XO a supporting character. Because supporting characters are shared by all players, the XO stands as an option for anyone who wants to take a turn in the big chair for a scene or two, without forcing everyone to serve just one player all the time, and still having a superior officer available that the GM can use to keep things in check.
6. Metacurrencies are fun. The game features 3 metacurrencies. Determination, Momentum, and Threat. Players gain determination whenever the GM takes a value from their character sheet and makes it into a complication, or when they refuse the complication and question that value, forcing it to be changed at the end of the adventure. They can spend determination to do a small range of very powerful effects only by invoking and roleplaying out how their values motivate them to greatness in the current situation. Determination is an excellent system for encouraging and rewarding real roleplay, and also for developing characters over time. Momentum, (poorly named) is a currency generated whenever the player rolls more successes than the required difficulty on a task. They can spend these points on an insanely long list of fancy effects that can alter the game. Most momentum spends can only be done as part of a task, but some can just be done willy-nilly. The players share a group momentum pool, which means everyone gets a say in who spends it and when, keeping off-turn players engaged, as nobody wants to see their hard-earned momentum wasted frivolously. Finally, pretty much anything the players can spend momentum on can be paid for by giving the GM threat points, in addition to the 2 per PC the GM gets at the start of every adventure. The GM can spend these threat points to dramatically alter the situation. This game strongly opposes the illusionist method of DMing where the GM can call blue bolts of lightning from the sky on a whim. Instead, the GM's ultimate power ends the moment play begins. From that point forward, the only way they can alter the scenario is by spending threat or through the actions of their own NPCs. The goal of the GM is to spend all that threat by the end of the adventure, but ideally in a manner that challenges the players rather than annihilating them.
7. Traits are brilliant. The game is really easy to prep for, because a scene is just a description of a situation and environment, followed by a list of words or short phrases that describe the traits that affect gameplay in the scene. For example, if the players are surviving on a desert world, the scene might just have the trait, "Overwhelming heat" as a complication. A player could make a task to find shelter and, on a success, spend momentum to remove that complication, indicating that he found suitable cover for the party. But if he rolled a 20 as well in the process, the GM might add a new complication, stating that as it grows dark, the planet begins to become "unbearably cold". Gameplay proceeds like that, with players and GM modifying the traits of the scene and characters in the scene to resolve the central problem that scene represents. My only nitpick here is that the GMing section gives 0 support to a first time GM how to prep a game at all. Sad, but not unexpected.
8. Zone based combat is brilliant. I switched to zone combat a long time ago when I started abandoning gridded combat. Zones are a super easy way to manage an environment without having to draw anything, which makes it perfect for voice-only theater of the mind roleplay, sucha s the kinds of games I've been playing online during this pandemic. I also love how zones are just subdivisions of the environment, and the terrain effects in those zones are just environment traits attached to those zones! Very easy to remember what is where, and why, and how it all connects and interacts. I would have preferred a little more guidance on the maximum and minimum sizes for zones in personal combat, given that they have an actual mechanical impact on throw range and non-electronic communication range, but I think they wanted to inspire GMs to experiment through play.
9. It's an excellent product line. The expansion books actually expand the game, both mechanically and thematically, for both players and GMs. That means every book you buy in this line contains something genuinely useful for everyone at your table. (Yes, even content from the adventure books could be cannibalized by a creative homebrewer to make cool new stuff.)
10. Uh... huh... well this has never happened to me before, but I really cannot think of a 10th item. I know that makes it look like this game sucks, or like I hate it, but... I'm actually a huge fan! The positives I've listed are infinitely more important than the complaints- most of my complaints aren't even about the game anyways, but rather the editing of the book. So uh... yeah. Go buy it.

The Neverending Story Game

So... I made a storytelling game inspired by the Neverending Story. Here's some pictures. I'm not sharing gameplay, because this could actually be worth money some day.

The book itself was quite a bit of work. I've never stained and finished wood before, let alone done so to intentionally create a unique texture. The book doesn't just look amazing, it feels the way it should. Old. Ancient. Magical.

Three guesses on the task resolution mechanic! XD

Clearly, the game is partially inspired by Rory's Story Cubes, but far, far more abstract.

Until next time!

Twenty-Sided Heart

You're breakin' my heart, people.

(This is a long article, and it includes links to several other long articles which need to be read in order for this to make sense. It also contains pop culture references, gamer slang, and colourful language. Needless to say, you need to be somewhat with-it to understand this page. That said, I believe the most important parts of this message are spoken plainly enough that anyone should be able to get the point, even if they miss the humor. Still, if you prefer your language bland and colourless, you have been warned: I and others in the hobby have utterly filthy vocabulary. So, let's get on with it, shall we?)

You know what's wrong with the RPG hobby these days? Assholes. Assholes are the problem.

No, seriously. In the last 6 months I have been exposed to more ignorant, short-sighted, selfish, rude, hateful, manipulative bullshit from DMs than I have ever experienced in my preceding decade of role playing. What the hell is wrong with people these days? I thought we were growing out of this already! I thought the "boys club" mentality was over! I thought that, if nothing else, Ron Edwards' exposure of the DM's Iron Curtain and Oija Board gaming had turned us off of playing with people who suck! I'm shocked we've already forgotten the only worthwhile rule of the hobby:

If you're not having fun, stop playing. No play is better than bad play.

It really is that simple. Don't like your group? Get another one. Don't like your DM? Start your own campaign without that guy. Don't like the game? Go buy a different one- or  better yet, make one up as a group! These people are your friends dammit,  treat them like it! You're inviting them into your home to entertain them and be entertained by them! If that isn't your only reason for running an RPG, you are an asshole. And if they don't treat you like a friend, then they aren't your friends and you need to get away from those assholes.

If you're in it for money, you're a retarded asshole.

If you're in it to control people, you're a sociopathic asshole.

If you're in it to abuse people, you're a bully and an asshole.

If you're in it for an identity, you're a hipster asshole.

If you're in it to discriminate against people, you're a bigoted asshole.

If you're in it to write a novel from your session transcripts, you're a lazy asshole. (And probably a shitty writer, quite frankly.)

If you're in it to pick up chicks,  you're a pathetic asshole. (Also kinda dumb. The other assholes have made the hobby very unappealing to women)

If you're in it to indoctrinate people toward a given belief system through propagandistic writing and game design, you are the ultimate asshole.

If you're in it to escape from your miserable reality, you aren't necessarily an asshole, but you do need help.

So, I want to campaign for love in the RPG community. There's too much misery and hate in the world. People turn to games as entertainment, a break from the drudgery of life, a shot of joy and happiness that they can rely on! But for many people, this is not what RPGs have become. For many people, RPGs are a political hell of subterfuge, manipulation, and disrespect. That is not OK. I am a game designer because I love making people happy. That is my one desire in life. I know that's what other game designers are in the business for as well. We all want you folks to enjoy our creations, not use them to harass one another!

In RPG theory, there is a set of ideas called the "Social Contract". The original definition in theory is now mostly defunct, and only big model purists (are there even any of you royal assholes left?) still use it for its intended meaning. I think it's time we took that back and gave it a useful meaning. The Social Contract, as I imagine it for the RPG hobby, is not a theory of game design, but a philosophy of game play. It is derived from basic ethics, morals, manners, and sportsmanship, all wrapped up in a comfy blanket of genuine love for your fellow gamers. This is the philosophy I prescribe to when running and playing a game. RPGs are meant to create joy- that's what the "G" in the acronym implies. Let's take back our GAMES.

Now, I know what you're thinking. "What, are we back in kindergarten?" Yes we are, because apparently some of you 60-something D&D veterans still have the attitude of a spoiled 6-year-old with a toothache. Those three rules are pretty much fundamental to getting along with the entire rest of humanity. If you can't get that right, the US army has every right to land troops in your country and point guns at you for your insane mistreatment of your fellow man.

There's more to the gamer's Social Contract than just basic manners though. The RPG is an extremely unique social environment, with very complex and unwritten rituals and communication methods. We need to cover what is right, and what is wrong. In particular, we need to discuss the true role of the DM.

Let's get one thing straight: the DM is a player too. The DM is not a unique opponent who you are playing against. The DM is not your enemy. The DM is not the game. If you are a DM and think of yourself as these things, you are a misleading asshole. If you are a player who thinks of the DM as these things, you are a metagaming asshole.

The DM is there to have fun just as much as everyone else is. Why the hell else would they invite your ass over unless they wanted you to be there? They wanted to share an experience with you and the others at your table so much, that they went to the trouble of trying to learn ALL the rules AND build an entire world, story, and adventure to explore. This is no easy task. If you think it is, try your hand at it some time, I'm sure your DM would love a break and a chance to watch you squirm for a change. There is a reason whole books have been written about how to be a successful DM.

Now let's debunk some myths of Dungeon Mastering that were propagated in the early days by people who sucked at expressing their ideas clearly.

1. The DM is not like a god in the game. Although the DM is the grand arbiter of the rules and game content for the session, the only purpose behind that is for the DM to facilitate an entertaining game. The only way to ensure that the impartiality of the dice doesn't produce anticlimactic garbage, is to have someone with the authority to fudge the rolls and make stuff up on the fly.

2. The DM is not like a director. The players at the table are not your "cast". You can't give them a script. You have no true control over the direction of the plot. The DM is more like a camera man, framing the scenes and giving context more than directing the action. If you try to control your players, even through coercion or manipulation, you are defeating the purpose of the game. For the game to work, the players need to be able to genuinely make their own decisions, not be manhandled into making YOUR decision for them.

3. The DM is more than just a referee. Although being impartial and being the interpreter of rules is part of the job, that is not the only reason the DM exists, it's merely the clerical work of it all. If that weren't the case, whole campaigns could be made by dice using random tables, entirely supplanting the DM in function. RPGs operate entirely on imagination, and as a consequence, anything can happen. It is impossible to write a set of rules for every possible imagined situation. Even when we write very flexible, open-ended, versatile rules, we wind up with multiple valid methods of achieving the same results. Someone has to take charge and be the final word. Someone has to decide, not what is most correct, but what is the most fun way to resolve a given situation.

So what is the true role of the Dungeon Master?

Artist. The DM is the creator of a fictional environment. A whole imaginary world. The fantasy setting is, itself, a creative work of art. The DM is the author, not of adventures, but of alternate realities which we may explore, and the events which occur around us as we do so. Old professionals, like Ed Greenwood and the late Gary Gygax are unsung master artists of the modern age, the forerunners of an art form yet barely recognized by the public consciousness of this time, and the creators of the first art movement in the medium! Every DM is a fledgling artist walking in their giant footsteps.

Impartial Mediator. Do you remember playing pretend or make-believe as a kid? Ever get into an argument about whether one of you could successfully do one of your imagined actions, only for the game to come to an end? The purpose of the rules is to put an impartial mediator between the players to decide, empirically, who succeeds at what, and when. That's what the dice and rules are for. The DM's job is simply to moderate the randomness and interpret the rules as they apply to the circumstances of gameplay. Without this role in place, every session of every RPG would just be the tabletop equivalent of Calvinball.

Performer. The DM is an actor. They play the role of every single character and creature the players encounter over the course of the game. Every worried king, every damsel in distress, every irate shopkeeper, every well-spoken goblin is the DM putting on an act and playing improv to the players' reactions.

Facilitator of Fun. At the end of the day, there is really only one  function the DM plays, and everything else is simply part of that function. The Dungeon Master's job is to create an exciting, entertaining adventure for the people at the table. When successful, this can be deeply rewarding, but to do it right requires maturity in the forms of patience, restraint, modesty, and kindness.

As for my advice on how to be successful as a DM? Two rules, both part of my Gamer's Social Contract.

Rule 0. This is an old one. A classic rule from the good old days of save-or-die competitive dungeon crawls. Rule 0 is simply the word "no". To clarify for non-gamers and the newer generation, Rule 0 actually refers to the absolute authority of the DM over the interpretation and application of game rules. Basically, the current DM's interpretations of the rules ARE the rules. Unfortunately, because game content counts as rules, this means they effectively have absolute control over everything in the game but the players' decisions. That's pretty heavy authority. As we all know, absolute power corrupts absolutely, and it is this disproportionate allocation of power which has produced nearly all of the sourness I see in the hobby today. Good DMs gone bad through abuse of authority. Good gaming groups split up by inappropriate rules interpretation. People who dropped the hobby completely because they got stuck playing with an asshole DM.

So, my rule 0 is actually a quote from a comic book:

Specifically, in the case of Rule 0, the responsibility to use that power as little as possible. Do not dismiss anything out of hand simply because it wasn't part of your plan, that is a blatant attack on the autonomy of your player group. Rule 0 is a weapon to be used against metagaming and rules lawyering, not against your fellow players on a whim. Remember: He who lives by the sword, dies by the sword.

But what do you do instead of saying no? What if they have an idea that you're unsure how to resolve? What if the players' ideas are insane? What if the rules don't cover this situation?

Enter: The Rule of Yes.

This one comes from a couple of different sources, but neither of them state it quite as a rule the way I do. Simply put, whenever a player comes up with a new idea; interprets a rule differently; tries to do something outside the scope of the core material; or otherwise blindsides you, before you just Rule 0 it away, consider saying yes first.

To some people, this may seem counterintuitive- after all, isn't the purpose of a rule to tell you what you can't do? No. It isn't. The rules in D&D are an abstract framework which the DM uses to impartially determine success or failure and action order. In reality, the only rules the players need to follow is the interpretation by the DM. As for how the DM should interpret those rules, well...

So, what is the rule of yes all about, and what does it have to do with all of this? I don't have to tell you, because other people have said it better than I can. I'm just formilizing the truth.

From Dungeon'/s Master:

"[...] Nothing grinds a game to a halt faster than a no ruling. Nothing frustrates a player more than being told their brilliant idea is no good. Nothing creates animosity towards the DM greater than a closed door policy on new ideas or rule interpretations. A no ruling at my normal game usually results in at least one player pulling out the PHB looking for clarification on the rule. It slows things down, it’s a distraction, it’s no fun. [...] There are instances when no is the correct call, but I urge to always consider the possibilities of yes before shutting an idea down. Unless the idea is clearly absurd, learn how to say yes. It will change your gaming life."

"[...] Saying no is lazy. Learn to say yes, challenge yourself and your players to be more creative. You’ll become a better DM, your adventures will appear more compelling and your players will come back each week craving more."

"[...] If you don’t know, say yes. If you don’t care, say yes. If it makes sense, say yes. Nothing is worse than a DM who can’t make a decision on a ruling. If you find yourself in this position say yes. Your players will love you for it."

My other source for the rule of yes is an article written on the gaming blog, beneath the screen. Follow that link, read that page, and come back. We're not done here yet.

Ya' done? Good. Moving on. Next are the two final rules in the Gamer's Social Contract. These rules have existed in undefined and unwritten form for a very long time. This is my attempt to clarify and standardize them.

The Rule of Cool.

The limits of the “willing suspension of disbelief” for a given idea are directly proportional to its coolness. Remember Bellisario's Maxim: "Don't look at this too closely..." also remember the gamer's version of the MST3K Mantra: "It's just a game; I should really just relax." Whenever a DM botches things in a weird or quirky way, assume "A Wizard Did It". The best way to use the RoC, is to watch player reactions. If a sudden shift happens where everyone's mood changes for the worse, or if people are suddenly disinterested or distracted, then something very uncool has happened, or something very cool has failed to happen. Simply claim Rule of Cool, and then correct the situation using Rule 0. This is your permission, as a group, to retcon events on the fly as necessary.

The Rule of Uncool.

Games are never worth anger. If it sucks, then FUCKING stop. And I cannot stress the cursing enough. Seriously, bad play is worse than no play at all. If people are mad, sad, bored, confused, frustrated, upset, arguing, leaving, distracted, or otherwise just not into the game and having fun, then for the love of yourself and your friends, stop the stupid game, and TALK IT OUT. Calling RoU means Time Out.

And now it's time I reintroduced a piece of text from the glory days of gaming, the mid-1980's: The RPG Manifesto.

"The Role-Playing Game Manifesto is a short ideology that identifies the end-goal of tabletop role-playing gaming. The manifesto has been printed towards the beginning of numerous game publishers books, most notably smaller presses such Milan Games and Guardians of Order (the original writers of the Manifesto). The powerhouse publishers, Wizards of the Coast and World of Darkness have both used the manifesto with just one publication. Its short and poignant message rings true for many gamers, and as such it is well-beloved in the gaming community." -D&D Wiki

I have revised the wording slightly, to make the manifesto a little clearer to read, and so it stands up to time a little better. (The original made use of outmoded gamer slang, and was very narrow in its focus on D20 based tabletop RPGs.)

v  These rules are written on paper, not etched in stone tablets.

v  Rules are suggested guidelines, not required edicts.

v  If the rules don't say no, the answer is yes.

v  There are no official answers, only official opinions.

v  When dice conflict with the story, the story always wins.

v  Poor sportsmanship isn't a problem with the game; it’s a problem with the player.

v  The Game Master has full discretionary power over the game only.

v  The Game Master always works with, not against, the players.

v  A game that is not fun is no longer a game.

v  The source material contains the answers to all things.

v  If you don’t know, make it up.

I don't know why we stopped prefacing our core books with that text, but it's a damned shame. That, right there, is the spirit of what it means to be a decent role player. There is love in those words, love for you and your fellow gamers. That needs to be appreciated, taken to heart, perpetuated, and spread as far as it can go.
There was another RPG manifesto written, a little more recently, and far less known. It doesn't come across as much of a manifesto, but more of a series of "Table Rules" framing how one should behave at the gaming table. Go check them out and come back.
That was a bit of a read wasn't it? 24 points, some multiple paragraphs long. Yeah, but every letter was worth soaking in, I promise you. That page should be the doctrine of proper socialization with your fellow gamers.
And now it's story time, ladies and gentlemen. This one is a modern tragedy of sorts. It chronicles the foibles of humanity in every regard, and D&D features as its theme. This story is the root if why I am lying awake tonight writing as my aching muscles force my sleep-deprived mind to wander. Take a read.
What happened to that boy is a human nightmare. The way people reacted to it, caring more about their own agendas for some stupid game is what makes the whole thing truly miserable. To this day, even though almost every gamer knows some kid died because of D&D, almost none of us know that it had nothing to do with the hobby. That is a shameful disrespect, and the darkest mark against our community- that we are too immature to even know the truth, let alone defend ourselves or that boy's memory. It is an ongoing cruelty that we perpetuate to this day.
In recent months, I have heard stories of...
A girl who was invited to her boyfriend's D&D sessions, only to be told to sit and be quiet, to run the elf NPC, and was repeatedly mocked by the guy's friends for not understanding the game.
A guy who wanted advice on how to stop his players from killing each other all the time. Out of hundreds of conniving, twisted, manipulative, disrespectful suggestions on how to strong-arm the players into obedience, only one person said, "If the players like PvP so much, you should make a campaign based on PvP."
A kid who was kicked out of his home because he invited his gaming group to his house for one night.
A guy who ruined his gaming group by violating impartiality in favor of a girl who joined the game. She didn't ever date him, BTW.
A player who was faced with over 10 save-or-die rolls in a row for minor unjustified inconveniences, like tripping over rocks. He left the game angry. Something tells me he wasn't wanted there in the first place.
The entire Adventurer's League management team banning a core race that was explicitly built for them simply because it could fly. Upon playtesting the first 10 adventures that were made after this decision, it was found that having a flying character on your team gave no apparent advantage in any combat encounter, nor did it provide an easy resolution to any problem presented.
A table where what you say is what happens, no take-backs, not even if the dice haven't hit the board yet. No talking allowed unless it's in-character.
A DM asking advice on what to do with a group that just runs around being silly all the time. After pages of crappy advice, only one person gave an out-of-game suggestion: Just let the silly stuff slide, and only have it actually happen in-game if the players genuinely want it to happen. You don't have to take their words at face-value.
Do you know what the Gamer's Social Contract is, really? It is a very long-winded and detailed elaboration upon a single phrase:
Don't be an asshole.

I hope that picture got you a laugh. I also sincerely hope that those of you in the hobby have gained a new appreciation for your fellow gamers, and a deeper understanding of why we do this and why we love it. For those of you who don't play RPGs, I thank you for making it this far. I can only hope that these words have she'd some light on a world that is far too often shrouded in subculture-imposed mystery and secrecy. Good night everybody.

Chess

The modern incarnation of an RPG owes its existence to D&D. D&D is, at its core, a stripped down wargame, where the player controls only one unit, albeit with far more individual options and customization, rather than an army. Wargames, in turn, are inherently derived from a long line of more abstract games which represented physical conflict. The oldest, most recognizable, surviving form of these ancient wargames is chess. Chess is, simply put, one of the finest games ever made. It is deeper, richer, and more complex than any other game ever made. Today, I would like to talk about it because I HATE chess.

First things first, what the game is. Chess is a two-player game in which both players are given an identical number of identical game pieces in identical arrangement on a symmetrical playing field. The game is flawlessly balanced. Nobody has an advantage due to anything inherent to the game or its parts. Who is playing black or white changes nothing relevant to ones chance to win. This means that nothing on the board actually decides the result of the game- it's all up to the people playing and their decisions. It is almost poetic how the game levels the playing field between two people, and gives them an abstract medium through which they may engage in a test of wits and wills. It is, truly, mind versus mind.

I have a similar opinion of many other, (And, in my opinion, far better) games, such as checkers, tic-tac-toe, and eastern chess equivalents. At the start of the game, there is no advantage. If you lose, you only have yourself to blame- the opponent bested you, fair and square. There's no random chance, and the only unpredictable element is the other player. Compare this with more elaborate games associated to gaming as a hobby, such as wargames and RPGs. Quite frequently, there is a great deal of randomness, and even where it is absent, the fields are rarely balanced, as setting up your playing field is as much a part of the strategy as actual play decisions! 

In wargames especially, players are often given a limited abstract currency (points) which are used to dictate how many units they may have, with more powerful or specialized units costing more points. Many wargames may also allow many different win and lose conditions, and the conditions may be different for each player. In all of these other games, gameplay is far more about what is happening on the table or in the game, than it is about what's happening in the minds of the players. It's not one mind versus another, it is simply tactics versus tactics, play versus play.

But this is where I believe the genius of chess ends. It is a beautiful game to think about and talk about, but I think it is a terrible game to play, mainly for two reasons.

First off, in the absence of humanity, it is not a game, it is geometry. Modern computers can play chess far better than any human ever will, and when computers are pit against each other at maximum difficulty, especially if they use the same code, the result is (almost) always a draw. Because both sides are so beautifully, perfectly balanced, there is no theoretical reason for either side to ever win. If the "best possible move" is always made by both sides, the result will always be a draw. Now that this has been so thoroughly explored and exemplified, I don't think there's much reason to play this game any more. Doing so almost seems an act of ignorance to me; there is no game left to be played here, we're just making dumb mistakes the pieces shouldn't make.

And my second reason for disliking chess is also my reason for hating it. In almost every other game based on conflict, such as wargames, you see one of two mechanics:

A) Kill all of the opponent's pieces, and you win.

B) Take some specific target, be it a unit or a location, (possibly keep it for a set time) and you win.

Chess follows neither of these mechanics. The reason it doesn't, is because chess is not about winning. 

Instead, a player cannot make a move which would result in their "king" piece being captured. If a move would leave their king open for capture, they cannot make it. So, if I threaten to take a player's king on my next turn, they must prevent it from happening on theirs, if they can. They have no choice. The game ends when one player cannot make a move, resulting in checkmate, and victory for the other player.

Chess is not about winning, it is about losing. It is about using your mind to slowly beat someone else's mind into submission. It is about methodically stripping another person of their choices and freedoms. It is the glorified, obsessive focus on the agonizing defeat of an opponent. It is, inherently, psychologically abusive. It is a game for sociopaths and cold, unfeeling machines. It is a game meant for intellectual bullies and dominating egomaniacs. It is a perfect symbolic manifestation of the mental state of medieval culture, which can clearly be seen in their violent, tyrannical history straight through the industrial revolution. It is a mental state the human race is still struggling to recover from. It is the philosophy which generates all forms of prejudice: The idea that one can be made superior, by making all others inferior.

When I play chess, I play capture the king, no castling, no en passant. It makes the game a little bit shallow, for sure, but it transforms it into a far lighter, far freeing experience. A game can be won by simply tricking an opponent to put their king in the middle of a trap! Metagame and poker face suddenly play a far bigger role! It isn't mind versus mind any more, but person versus person. This is why I feel we should leave chess behind like the archaic relic it is. 

Like the holocaust, it is a memory of where we came from, and deserving of recognition for its impact...

But that's all it's worth.