In this week's guest blog, Ismael Alvarez discusses epic level adventuring.
Readers, please discuss your experiences with epic / mythic rules in the comments section!
There
are many games that deal with ideas that seek to surpass typical
fantasy-based adventuring. It comes with many labels like epic,
mythic, and heroic, but ultimately it is all shorthand for a larger-than-life adventure that makes you (the player) feel like a
protagonist out of an ancient myth. For the sake of simplicity, I
will refer to this ideal as "epic", as it seems to be the
most prevalent phrase currently in use.
When
we think "epic", we think of those primal stories of beings
at the edge of comprehension. Gods themselves were very rarely the
subject of stories that exhibited their impressive talents, but
rather they were very frequently shown misusing their powers to cause
mischief on the level of a Wall Street banker (if you can call either
mischief). Quite often it was the half-human offspring of these gods
that took the center stage, possessing the human capacity for
curiosity and adventure that their parents either ignored or lacked.
These stories, so termed ‘epic’, are connected inexorably to our
modern sensibility of impressive adventure.
I
mention this because it is in this tradition that the epic tale is
steeped, and part of the foundation on which the rules for such role-playing characters are set. This is important for a few reasons, but
primarily in that epic storytelling both modern and ancient, hangs
upon a few assumptions.
First,
the actions of the person or persons involved are continually
impressive and grandiose. If they aren’t engaging legendary beasts
and monsters in open combat, they are suffering through Greek tragedies that define drama and suffering at the hands of fate
or hubris. Nothing that happens to these heroes is ever easy or
simple.
Second,
the narrative of these stories present challenges as exciting, but
not ultimately dangerous. Think of Odysseus or Hercules and their
tribulations, and consider that neither was ever particularly worried
about the outcome. This was either a matter of bravado, or simply the
extent of their ability.
In
any case, it is this change in narrative that affects role-playing
most deeply. The focus of an epic tale is to highlight the heroic
stature of the heroes involved, perhaps showing them being deceived
as Samson is by Delilah, but not often bested in their field of
expertise; given the opportunity to try, these heroes cannot be
easily defeated in what they do best, as they are the best at
what they do.
Epic
systems run into problems because of how they function as a rules
template. Add in human nature, and it is easy to see how difficult it
is to structure these systems. The central element of role-playing games as
we know it is hinged on the uncertainty of combat and the thrill of
potential defeat, but the rules for epic role-playing are often a
mere numerical stacking of the non-epic rules, making the game more
interesting simply in the scope of the scenery and antagonists. Other
systems provide such a powerful advantage as to make game masters
work harder to challenge the players, or to render the players the
default victors of every combat.
Both
of these approaches reflect the nature of an epic narrative, either
putting a dramatic spin on otherwise mundane combat (fighting dragons
instead of rats, for instance), or creating in the players a group of
superheroes that affect the world as active forces of nature. What
these systems don’t often do is account for balance, or understand
the deeper meaning of the epic narrative within the context of a role-playing game. In this we see the breakdown of the epic system as it
pertains to fun, and compelling gameplay. Let me explain.
Pivotal
to the experience of D20 fantasy games* is a carefully
crafted system that has its roots in a 40-year-old game system that
has been carefully pruned and tended into some semblance of balance.
This balance exists for a number of reasons, but in brief it is to
ensure that no player outshines any other, and that the game master
may adequately predict and design encounters to reach a proper
outcome. If the players are balanced, people are having fun, the easy
fights are exciting, and the hard fights are gripping.
But
this begins to break down in the face of what epic means and how it
is interpreted. In 3rd edition D&D’s epic level
handbook, for instance, we are given more. More levels, more spells,
more powers. It is an absolute addition, not unlike building an
extension on a house. But what those extensions don’t account for
are how carefully the foundation was laid out.
Pathfinder
sought to change this by taking a more subtle approach. At heart, the
mythic rules are a gradually applied demigod template, making
characters harder to kill, giving them access to formidable powers,
and creating an entirely separate axis of growth that changes the
very essence of the characters themselves, rather than just adding
what was already there. It is successful in the sense that it
actually feels like something different and powerful outside of the
20 or 30 level scope.
The
reasons for epic rules failing are hard to specify, but let us say
that game designers sometimes stop thinking like players.
Pathfinder’s mythic rules, for instance, are rife with the
potential for abuse, and it is either hard or unattractive to ignore
these potent combinations, but this is the case with any rules abuse.
Even so, we are left with a system that may at least be balanceable.
It
is hard to say whether such errata would fix the system and present
an adequately epic system that functions, but only time will tell. So
far, this demonstrates only two reasons that such games are difficult
to model. There is often more success when a game is built from the
ground up to be epic, but as with Exalted, this is no guarantee.
Most
systems are either not built to challenge the players, or there is
not enough differentiation from non-epic play to satisfy
expectations. This is where a new approach is needed. Epic should not
be about classically determined challenges and combats, but about
using the epic themes of these stories tied to myth to tell a story
that moves with and not against the traits of a mythological theme.
Here
is where human nature comes into play, and people begin to express
what they feel is epic, and the need to satisfy these disparate
definitions breaks most games into too many directions, as has been
my experience. Rifts would be a good example of this, as the loose
guidelines for players of different power levels being in the same
party is problematic at best.
Players
and game masters are often at odds with just how amazing the party’s
exploits should be, and the stakes are much higher so that any
misstep from either side of the game screen could cause friction.
Furthermore, most players look for every mechanical advantage that
they can leverage, and a majority of epic rulesets are going to allow
for this so-called optimization to be exponentially greater than in
typical systems.
Hard
as it might be to understand, it would be better to make conflict
less frequent, and more impactful. Combat in epic storytelling exists
in two flavors; show off combat and dramatic combats. Show off mode
obviously showcases the strength of the players, while dramatic
combat will test the limits of the group. This unfortunately takes
away from the usual D20 fantasy element of having many combats per
session, but is not fun when done through epic rules.
Further
difficulty is found in making show off combats fun and not
repetitive, while dramatic combats require an intense amount of
planning, accounting for disparate and profound powers, and other
factors that may end an otherwise great battle with one roll. These
difficulties are at the root of the malaise that regularly affects
players attempting to play in epic games; with each boring or botched
combat, players lose interest no matter how fun the story may be.
This
of course translates across all levels of play, and a good GM must
make all aspects of their story and encounters interesting enough to
maintain the players' attention, but epic rules place a magnifying lens on
the aspects of action that are hardest to maintain (show off and
dramatic combat), while removing entirely the middle ground of combat
encounters due to the nature of epic storytelling; that is,
incidental yet difficult combat that characterizes D20 fantasy.
Ultimately,
we must recognize that epic rules are intrinsically meant more for a
dramatic approach, meaning that the story should take precedence over
the tactical aspect of the game to avoid the pitfalls that normally
plague epic role playing. We see this approach in the games of
Nobilis and Amber Diceless.
And
yet, there does exists a need to create a game system that conforms
somehow to the unique requirements of an epic game without disrupting
the narrative nature of an epic story, while also satisfying player
and game master expectations of system mechanics. Though such an
undertaking may be epic in scope, it is not, as such, impossible.
*D20
fantasy used here to be succinct.
Thanks for an interesting post!
ReplyDeleteAs a player in a Pathfinder Skull&Shackles campaign, our GM allowed us to become mythic at level-9, and now at level-10, we each have 2-tiers of mythic levels.
The reason we became mythic though, was not from a storytelling event or as a result of exceptional roleplaying. We became mythic because for whatever reason, our PCs were having major problems surviving basic encounters without a lot of GM fudging. So, ta-da, we became mythic.
MY experience playing as a mythic PC (level 10 cleric of Besmara, Mythic heirophant path) has been ok. It has made adventuring easier, and our party preforms moderately competent. But "mythic" has really just given our PC more mechanical powers, and we have not explored any of the "storytelling" aspects of what it means to be a mythic pc.
To sum up , by being mythic, we have more powers and abilities, but our story is not epic or mythic at all.