Tag: Gaming (page 22 of 41)

Opening The Red Box

Courtesy Wizards of the Coast

Last night was a little different. Normally on Sunday nights I stay at home with my feet up and possibly lacking a pair of pants, and every other week I twiddle my thumbs while I wait for Classholes time to come around. Not last night, though. About mid-afternoon I put on pants and sallied forth to a friend & co-worker’s house for something a little different. We opened the Red Box.

I never had the red box myself, as a kid. I got into D&D around 2nd Edition, and I had just about wrapped my mind around the nuances and algorithms of THAC0 when 3rd Edition was announced. Naturally, I was frustrated. How dare TSR take away all the complicated algebraic formulae we’d burned lean tissue to memorize! Between 3rd Edition and Star Wars Special Edition, fans had plenty to be butthurt about. 4th Edition, released just two years ago, has been met with a great deal of similar ire from those steadfastly devoted to 3.5, people who’ve turned up their noses at anything new coming out of Wizards of the Coast and opting to play Pathfinder instead.

And now comes the Red Box. D&D for beginners. Hurt butts everywhere.

So when we opened up the box, we found the following:

Bag of dice. Off to a good start.

A two-sided, glossy map with two outdoor locations on one side and an indoor temple/dungeon/really big house on the other. Good for a couple of adventures, sure, but I suspect that unless you slice up the interior locations to be rearranged and thus ruin the outdoor maps, it might get old after a while.

Cardboard counters for heroes, monsters and Action Points. I have to admit, this was really nice. Coupled with the map, a lot of the guesswork and ambiguity is taken out of combat. Yes, there’s something charming about “picturing it in your mind,” but at the same time knowing where you stand in relation to which hulking monstrosity at any given moment is a good thing both as a player and as a DM. For folks just starting out, this is pretty ideal. Painted miniatures and custom maps can come in time, provided you have some to spare. To say nothing of money for pewter and paints.

Character Sheets. It was nice of Wizards to toss these in, and on high-quality paper as well. That said, there’s something somewhat limiting about them. Granted, the contents of the Red Box aren’t intended to take the characters too far past level 2 (more on that later) but giving characters a bit more room to grow beyond the one side of a single character sheet isn’t a bad thing. On the other hand, the blank side of the sheet is great for sketches.

Power Cards. This is where a lot of the butthurt is going to come from when fans of 3.5 check this out. 4th Edition resolved to make things a bit more streamlined and free-flowing, especially in combat, and while this wasn’t necessarily implemented well on all sides — half the skills are gone, which dilutes the versatility of a character somewhat — the Power Cards are probably the best addition to the game. Instead of hunting through the Player’s Handbook or a supplemental guide to find the particulars of a given ability, a player has a set of cards giving the name of the ability or power, what it does and how often it can be used. And… apparently… this is a bad thing?

Player’s Book. This is probably my least favorite part of the new Red Box. Now, granted, I understand why Wizards put it together this way. It’s for the total beginner working solo to introduce themselves to D&D. But when you have a few people looking to try it out with ideas of what they want to play, hunting and picking the particulars of the watered-down character creation rules out of what is essentially a Choose Your Own Adventure book is a bit tedious. Again, I’m not ignorant as to why it is this way, and in terms of getting a kid started in D&D it’s a really neat way of doing it. It’s just not helpful to people starting together as a group, and it feels a little childish in presentation.

Dungeon Master’s Book. Tied into the Player’s Book as it is, there are some rough parts of the DMB. The transition into DMing is presented as a natural extension of the CYOA aspect of the Player’s Book, with an owner of the Red Box lending his or her Player’s Book to another interested player so they can generate their character. You could probably pass the PB around from player to player and let them figure things out on their own, but that’d be an evening in and of itself, more than likely. Other than that, though, I have to say the DMB is a really solid intro to DMing, which might be the biggest hurdle some people have to clear when it comes to D&D. Laying out an adventure, coordinating a dungeon’s encounters and handling things like experience, role-playing and treasure can be daunting when you first decide to try it. The Red Box’s DMB keeps things simple, walks you through rules procedures and even reminds you that the players’ choices are just as important as your dungeon and its denizens. As much as I felt the Player’s Book doesn’t help a party starting out, the DMB does that well, once you get over the rough transitional bits.

So there you have it. Those are the contents of the Red Box and my take on them. But how does it work with new players, or experienced ones for that matter?

Tune in tomorrow, and find out.

Extra Credit

A quick one today: if you haven’t already, cruise over to the Escapist and check out a little feature called Extra Credits. So far they’ve proven to be brilliant, insightful and pretty funny at times. It’s a look at what games are made of, how they influence us, what they mean and how we can make them better.

Gamers, Fanboys, Behavior and Respect

X-Box Kitten
Since I and others may get worked up over this, here’s a picture of our kitten.

I try to keep the contents of this blog focused on storytelling and the best ways to do it in modern media. One of those forms of media is games. Video games, to be precise, and it’s a form of storytelling and interactive entertainment I’ve enjoyed since I was knee-high to a corn stalk. It’s in my blood. It’s part of my life. I am a gamer.

And yet, I feel like using that word has come to carry a negative connotation. Some have tried to distance themselves from the hobby to some degree. Some have pointed out that a lot of gamers are doing it wrong. Some are curious as to what’s going on with the term in general. And others want the label drowned in the bathtub altogether.

By the way, you should really go watch and read all of that stuff I just linked if you haven’t already. It’s worth your time especially if you’re a gamer, and it’s the basis for this entry.

For my part, I want to make something perfectly clear. I don’t think I’m better or worse than the large community of gamers out there. I’m just as guilty as taking joy in the failures of another gamer who happens to be on the opposing side of the Internets as anybody. I’ve shunned social interaction, ambition and even relationships for the sake of gaming. I’ve gotten pissed off to the point of physical violence over another failed attempt at a challenging level. After the experiences of suicidal depression, a nervous breakdown, abandonment, divorce and the rigors of the mental health recovery system in this country, I made a promise to myself that when I came across a flaw in my behavior, I’d take a look at the problem, find out where I’d gone wrong and strive to improve my behavior going forward.

Sometimes I do that. Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I kick it right into the goal, sometimes I bounce one off the post. Nobody’s perfect, right? Yeah, I might lose my cool when I nearly get run over by somebody in an Audi who’s in a hurry to get from the local Starbucks to their next high-powered marketing meeting. Who doesn’t? And I might invoke the works of other gamers and critics – like I did two paragraphs ago – and be seen as taking them out of contest. Mistakes are going to happen. I’m a human being.

My point is: so are you, and so is everybody else out there. I want to be treated like one, and so I make the attempt to treat others like one. Is it really that hard? Am I strange for wanting this? Has common courtesy somehow become taboo, uncool or downright lame?

Courtesy Uncle Sam Posters

No. It hasn’t. And nobody should feel that way.

I’ve gotten into arguments over games, stories, programming procedures, politics, religion, philosophy and the best variety of Pop Tarts. And some of those arguments have gotten pretty heated. But when it comes to an actual debate, even when I bring up a point that I know is going to be unpopular for one reason or another, it’s never my goal to piss anybody off, make anybody feel inadequate or ashamed to feel the way they do. I especially have zero interest in perpetuating the notion that disagreement and dissension should be met with blind hatred phrased in abusive language.

Now before I get into the meat of this, let me pause to say that some of the discourse I’ve had recently related to games and gaming has been balanced and respectful. It’s heartening to experience respect and debate on the Internet, but the unfortunate truth is that this feels more like the exception than the norm. And that’s a problem. I’m also not opposed to the use of profanity. I make precision F-strikes from time to time to get a point across. But using that language in a demeaning, personal attack is a far cry from using it to emphasize a point.

Let me give you an example, specifically regarding the word “faggot” or “fag.” For a lot of so-called gamers out there, if you present a counter-argument to the prevailing sentiment about a given game or aspect of gamer culture — the characterization of a video game’s protagonist or lack thereof, for example, or the virtures of an RPG or turn-based strategy game over the plethora of FPS games out there — you must be a “fanboy” of whatever side you’re percieved to be on. Additionally, it’s not only acceptable but encouraged to imply if not out-and-out state that as a “fanboy” you are automatically also that aforementioned f-word and all it implies. The reinforcement of a negative sterotype of a particular minority of humanity, the perpetuation of the acts that are wrapped up in that stereotype and the consequences desired by certain political and religious groups for being a part of or even associated with that minority have become the default reactionary response of these so-called gamers. In other words, if you were to say that Team Fortress 2 is a better multiplayer experience than Halo or Call of Duty, the default reactionary response of these gamers is that (a) you play Valve games to the exclusion of all other games to the point of obsession and (b) you should be burned alive for being so clearly deviant from the accepted norms of gamer society.

This behavior is absolutely fucking disgusting.

Courtesy Penny Arcade

Putting aside the fact that this sort of rabid defense of a given sub-strata of gaming makes these valiant defenders of whatever they’re defending just as much a “fanboy” as the object of their ire, the virulent vomiting of acidic homophobic or racist hate renders any sort of counter-point they want to make entirely worthless, if they have any point to make at all. People work personal attacks into their commentary all time, be it for the sake of comedy or lacking anything further to say of intellectual importance. And in the interest of full disclosure, in the context of gameplay, busting out the occasional “Your mom” joke when you’re among friends is pretty harmless — I’ve done it & will likely do it again. There’s no intent there to harm, which is a point I’ll revisit.

But in the context of discourse and debate, when all you do is attack the person making the point instead of the point itself, all you’re doing is proving just how aggressively juvenile and socially inept you are. Pointing out flaws in an opponent’s logic, citing sources that discredit their thesis, deconstructing their argument in a way that’s just as constructive for future talking points as it is furthering your point of view — that’s interesting, intelligent, thought-provoking and respectful discussion. Invoking lewd sex acts done by or to your opponent or their family isn’t any of those things, nor is it all that funny.

As I said before, busting out the occasional “So’s your face!” among friends is one thing. Constant, unrepentant and abusive behavior is quite another. Making fun of someone aiming to have everybody laughing, including the one being made fun of, is one thing. Spitting out derogatory remarks laced with profanity for the sake of proving your superiority is another. See what I’m getting at here? Are you picking up what I’m putting down? Does this make any sense to you whatsoever?

Gaming Cat
Another picture of one of my cats associating with games. It calms me.

I know it might seem hypocritical of me to be telling people how to behave and to knock off personal attacks in what is looking more and more like a personal attack, albeit directed at a number of anonymous people. But how else do we call attention to this fundamental flaw in our society? What other recourse do we have to point out how bad this makes us look as a community? Why should we continue to let this be accepted, encouraged and in some cases defended behavior?

We can, and should, do better. We have a whole lot of language we can use. We are fully capable of rendering our arguments in ways that are not personally insulting, potentially inflammatory or deliberately pejorative. And when you get right down to it, the words themselves are devoid of meaning other than those we give them. George Carlin, may he rest in peace, said the following regarding language:

There are no bad words. Bad thoughts. Bad intentions. And woooords.

So I’m not saying that certain words are taboo and should never, ever be used. Taking words out of parlance is tantamount to censorship, which I’m just as opposed to as I am treating other people like shit because they happen to disagree with you. What I’m driving at here is that, as gamers, we should respect the opinions of other individuals even when we disagree with them. If we want to be respected, we need to show respect to others in order to earn the respect we crave.

We are a culture of short attention spans and ever-emerging distractions. We’ll get fired up about something for a bit and then move on to the next big release, content update or point of contention. I’m afraid this will happen when it comes to this aspect of our society. If that means I need to jump up and down in my cage, thump my chest and throw some poo, so be it. After all, the only thing necessary for evil to succeed is for good people to do nothing.

Now, I’m not saying these gamers are evil. That’s just as wrong as all of the homophobia. I’m just reiterating the fact that this kind of behavior, from its roots deep in the insecurities of socially inept gamers to its manifestation as streams of profanity wrapped around racist and homophobic epithets with the intent of degrading an individual for the sake of elevating one’s own sense of self-worth, is completely unacceptable. It wouldn’t be tolerated to use these words with that intent to someone’s face, and it shouldn’t be across the Internet, either. If you engaged in this behavior around a gaming table where dice are being thrown, or while sitting on the couch as a guest in someone else’s home, it would not go on anywhere near as long or be anything close to this ‘accepted.’ In fact, you’d be sitting by yourself pretty damn fast in most public situations because nobody wants to associate with the dickhead who thinks it’s funny to imply people he doesn’t like should be burned alive.

Wil Wheaton says... (art courtesy Scott Kurtz, I think)

You can disagree with me if you like. You can even hate me for pointing this out, even though it’s been pointed out before. Send hate mail, engage in the very behavior I’m opposing, vote for projects other than mine out of spite, whatever. If that’s the price I have to pay for sticking my neck out in the name of common courtesy and asking that a level of decency be introduced to the interactions we have with one another as human beings sharing the same planet and trying to enjoy the same hobby, I’ll pay it gladly.

Story’s End

Courtesy Vulcan Stev

Some of my favorite stories have been ruined because they’ve gone on too long. Even stories I’ve been lukewarm about have taken a turn for the abysmal when more story has been tacked on when it wasn’t needed. It’s so common that it’s been dubbed “Sequelitis” by the Tropers.

It’s informed some of the decisions I’ve made as a writer. I’ve envisioned Acradea as a trilogy, and while I have ideas for extending the cycle beyond three books, I wouldn’t want to do so unless the story is good. If Pendragon gets picked up, I have ideas for a story arc with a solid conclusion. The modern supernatural fantasy/horror novel idea kicking around in my head is a standalone product. Suffice it to say, I’ve learned to go into my storytelling with a plan in mind.

Lately, I’ve been wondering why World of Warcraft is different.

Now, on-going interactive storytelling is a different kettle of fish entirely from your standard-issue long-form fiction-writing. Any Dungeon Master worth their salt can tell you that. Would the epic D&D games played by the guys from Penny Arcade be anywhere near as interesting and fun without poor, poor Aeofel? It’s a collaborative effort, and roleplayers, good ones at least, do not exist in a vacuum.

That said, I’ve been thinking about what to do with my main World of Warcraft character.

I’ve been playing a blood elf hunter since the race was introduced to players in the Burning Crusade expansion. I’m fond of him. Playing an outdoors-oriented, inclusive member of a race known for being arrogant and isolationist has lead to a lot of interesting anecdotes. He’s had highs and lows, triumphs and tragedies – a pretty full life considering he’s only a couple years old in real-life terms.

With the next expansion coming, I’m wondering where he’s going to fit in. Or, more to the point, if he’s going to fit in at all. The story of Gilrandur Dawnstalker feels like it’s come to something of a conclusion. Do I take him on a “coming out of retirement” track when the Cataclysm hits, or is it time to start a new story instead of continuing the old?

The inspiration for this thought came from the pre-Cataclysm event, Zalazane’s Fall. Warcraft’s trolls have always been one of my favorite races in that universe. They have fantastic lore, interesting relationships with the other Horde races and are poised to have a big role to play in the expansion. Of course, their accents and aesthetic don’t hurt either.

As writers, I have to ask. Do you know it’s time to end a story? If so, how?

The Fine Art of the Catherd

Gaming Cat

I’ve been in therapy quite a bit in my adult life.

You’re shocked. I can tell.

One of the most effective pieces of advice I was given by a therapist involved dealing with the internal mechanisms of my brain. Specifically, the phenomenon she called “racing thoughts.” Basically, if a notion came into my head or something bugged me, the notion itself and my thoughts on that notion would begin chasing each other around with little restraint or regard for anything I wanted to accomplish. Something would shock me or blind-side me emotionally, and I’d be a useless weepy rag of a man for at least half a day. It was bad.

Getting a grip on this problem, and by extension myself, was a lot like herding cats. Rather mangy undomesticated ones that that. My inability to properly cope with or communicate important, life-impacting information and events has lead directly to some real disasters. I’ve messed up quite a few things in my life. Some bridges have been burned, never to be repaired. I like to believe in things like redemption, forgiveness and hope, but reality is a lot colder and more harsh than the heavenly kingdom in just about any walk of faith.

See? There it goes. My mind starts chasing its own tail in a spiral of, in this case, self-loathing and regret. Nip that in the bud, mind! I’ve done bad things in my life, sure. But they weren’t all bad. And I can learn from the bad things I’ve done in the past and do better in the future. Yes, I’ve lost friends. Yes, I’ve disappointed loved ones. Who the hell hasn’t? We live on. Pain heals, chicks dig scars.

The Only Real Writer’s Block

Going back to my rosy-eyed optimism, I’m fond of telling people that they are their own biggest obstacle. Yes, the deck might be stacked against you in a certain endeavor, be it because of the success of other people or your gender or your current finances or the fact you can’t get your hands on a trained orangutan. But more often than not, the little doubts and tiny bits of self-loathing we all struggle with are the pebbles in our shoes that keep us from taking another step forward.

It’s especially true for writers. You hum along, banging out words, sending queries, pitching articles and sharing your stories with other writers. Or long-suffering spouses. Or confused pets. Or anybody within earshot. Bottom line is, six days out of seven everything’s fine as far as writing is concerned.

Then comes the bad news. Another rejection for the “I’m doing something!” pile. A disappointingly inadequate paycheck, or word that payment isn’t coming at all for another month or three. A collections call. The sound of the repo man’s tow truck hitching up to your car. Your dog leaves you a ‘present’ in your shoes. The roaches carry off the good china you haven’t managed to wash yet. You get the idea.

Whatever it is, however it comes about, you just stop cold. You doubt your worth as an artist, a writer, a human being. A little voice in your head tells you this was a bad idea. You’ll never make is as big as the people out there who have one tenth of your talent but are twenty times as wealthy and popular. You messed up somewhere, and you’ll never recover. The little bastard in the back of your brain drops a tiny bit of red matter into your heart and wham, super-massive emotional black hole. Because that feeling? Sucks.

Herding Cats While Herding Cats

Writers and artists aren’t the only folks who deal with this. Gamers also run afoul of doubt fairies. Get blasted by other players one time too many, fail in the boss fight time and again, mess up the timing necessary to get that elusive achievement after an afternoon of attempts, and the gamer rage takes hold. You fume. You cuss. You quit.

Now imagine that frustration duplicated at least a few times, in the personage of fellow gamers with whom you have direct contact, but it’s all directed at you. That’s what it means to form a guild, clan or similarly titled organization of gamers within a given game. You not only have to deal with your own anxiety and desire to get your goals across, but you also need to respond to the needs of other gamers. Some are easy to please, some are passive-aggressive in communicating what they want, some just don’t want to play by the rules and some think they’re entitled to special favors just because you’ve made the wise decision to include them in the club (which, by the way, they’re not).

Basically you’re putting yourself through the wringer not only of proving your own self-doubts wrong but weathering the slings and arrows of the outrageous expectations of others doing the same. Egos are projected. Friends become whiners. Any ideals you had get swept aside as people scramble for bits of recognition and validation. It feels like the original notion has been picked up and carried in a direction you don’t like. Red matter, center of heart, black hole, suck. The feeling that comes from herding the cats in ones’ head is aggravated by herding multiple additional cats.

So how do you wrangle these rampant felines?

Catnip for the Brain

The best advice I can give for situations like this is to keep things in perspective. As a writer, there’s nobody else in the world who can tell your story the way you want to tell it. Sure, concepts or themes or plot structures replicate themselves all the time, but the nuances, the fine details, the character ticks and turning points are all you. You’re the teller of that story, and if you don’t get out there and tell it it won’t be told.

As for gamers, games are supposed to be fun. A joy and a delight, a distraction and a touch of escape. We shouldn’t drag our personal problems into our entertainment to the degree that it stops being entertaining. That said, I’m as guilty as doing it as anybody, starting over and ragequitting with the best of them, taking a game too seriously. So I’ll be right there with you, struggling to remember that I’m in the game to have fun. The people that prevent me from having fun, that try to take that fun away to fulfill those false feelings of entitlement, are people I really shouldn’t associate with. Maybe they’ll get over it, giving the gamer form of a cat’s look of “I meant to do that.” And maybe they’ll wander off, hindquarters high in the air in that “I’m the most awesome and everybody else is an idiot” prance cats do so well.

More delicious tuna for the rest of us, I say.

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