by Scott Roberts
May 29, 2001
"Help me make the most of freedom
And of pleasure
Nothing ever lasts forever.
Everybody wants to rule the world."
— "Everybody Wants to Rule the World",
Tears for Fears, Songs from the Big Chair
Last week's Mummer's Dance covered the different types of players one encounters in a multiplayer prose game. Several of those types – notably, the Prince, the Pro from Dover, the Schemer, the Crafter, and to a lesser extent, the Star and the Thrillseeker – have as an integral part of their desires the need to play a significant and important role in a game's world. It's probably fair to say that almost any player, regardless of the types they fall into, wants to feel at least somewhat significant to the game world they're playing in. Walking away from the computer after several hours of roleplaying should bring with it some sense of accomplishment – players should feel as if they have done something noteworthy, if not for the world than at least for their character's development.
A Question Of Scale
The problem inherent in fulfilling this goal is the scale to which multiplayer prose games are designed. From a designer's perspective, making a game world for a target audience of less than a hundred players is a poor return on investment, regardless of whether the game is pay-to-play or free. Designers want to create games that entertain the largest number of players possible; else only a select few people view their hard work. What's the point in spending months if not years developing a game if the people who are going to use it number in the dozens?
In such a universe the problem of significance of character actions is the largest one facing the players in such an environment. The degree to which characters can "succeed" at whatever their chosen field of ability is gets circumscribed in a society filled with thousands of players. Only one person can be the best fighter, wizard, or starship pilot in any given field. Others will inevitably fall short, and the competition to be the best can be annoying and not a small source of contention and frustration both in character and out of character.
Some game designers deal with this problem via respawning, such as in MUDs and EverQuest-type games, where even if player X gets the Epic Sword of Gilgamesh and slays the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal, in a few hours, another Epic Sword and Bugblatter Beast will show up for the next would-be Beastslayer and Swordwielder to deal with. However, this particular model lacks elegance and reduces the quality of the experience for all of the players involved. What's the point, some players will inevitably ask, if there's no way to tell ultimately who the "best" is? To join an elite group of three or four Beastslayers may still hold its charm for people, but when that group inflates to the dozens and hundreds, the pleasure of delivering the final death-blow with the Epic Sword loses its luster and becomes as routine as shooting the womp rats in your landspeeder like you did at first level.
Even games with socialization as their overwhelming theme, such as Skotos' Castle Marrach, where achievement is downplayed, suffer from this problem. There is only one Queen. It's very difficult for a player to reach the pinnacle position as the head of a guild, or the best teacher of sewing in the entire castle. The Prince-types out there, who love to head up factions; the Crafters, who want to build and create legacies, may find themselves stymied by the fact that there are so many others out there who want to do the same things, and whose goals all too often conflict with their own, to frustrating effects. When this line of reasoning is extended to new players entering a pre-existing multiplayer online prose game, it's sometimes referred to as "sandboxing", where the oldest players have already ascended to the highest positions in the land, and new players entering their sandbox are left to fight over whatever scraps they have left behind without any real chance to achieve what other players have achieved or to make a name for themselves.
There are design features which game developers can feasibly invent to address these issues in games, and some game companies have already made inroads in that area – constantly developing game worlds that continually offer new challenges so that new players get the chance to be the "first" at something; ongoing (and staff-intensive) plots run to involve new players in intrigues that allow them to shine and be "the best" if only in the context of such a plot. There are probably enough opinions on this subject in other Skotos columns as well as in industry publications as a whole to fill a library dedicated to the purpose. This column, however, is designed to address what players can do to cope with being one amongst many.
The Means Justify The Ends
Racing to be the first to a particular goal, be it a particular achievement for a character or social preeminence in a setting, is most likely the worst thing you can do to achieve that particular goal. In the universe of online multiplayer prose games, there are a disproportionate number of twinks to just about any other character type. Players can be, and are, willing to toss away ethical and good gamesmanship standards in the pursuit of whatever it is that they're going for. In many cases, achieving one's goal first is difficult unless one is willing to stoop to the ruthless maneuvering and tactics used by the sort of player for whom such an achievement is the only reason they play the game. Even if you do get there first, sooner or later someone else of that nature is going to get there as well or do their damnedest to unseat you from whatever perch or title you've managed to claim.
On the other hand, taking your time to slowly build to your character's desired goals can be rewarding in and of itself. Being at the top is usually not quite so rewarding as the struggle to achieve that goal – against anyone but the ones you need to deal with out of character, that is. The individual who has spent the most time building up to the goal with a firm foundation behind him or her will most likely win in-character rivalries between two characters for a particular goal. It's easy to build a tall house of cards; it takes a lot longer to build something of the same height with a better foundation, but which one is going to last longer if they're both put to the test?
Take your time in developing your character's goals. Don't rush towards being the best swordsman in the world; instead, develop a credible reason why your character is interested in such a goal. Interact with others who have no interest in swordsmanship and convince them why your goals are meaningful; do them a favor and perhaps they will help you as well. Talking about the goal to which you aspire with other players can be (and in fact most often is) a great deal more rewarding than actually having the numerical statistic or doodad which proclaims that you are in fact the only level 273 bookbinder in the game. Of course, in some games the statistical achievement allows opportunities to use in-game commands which you do not have at lower levels, but it is likely you'd get bored relatively quickly with the in-game commands thus accessed without an appreciative audience who has been brought to anticipate your achievement by careful roleplay over time anyway.
Political and social maneuvering, as opposed to personal skill or equipment maneuvering, has some of the same pitfalls as well as some of the same solutions. In a game with hundreds or thousands of players, power of a political sort tends to be shared out in small groups. Charismatic individuals abound in a game where dominance is selected for by ability to roleplay effectively. Additionally, players in online prose games tend to be ornery and individualistic types, so even becoming the Almighty Potentate with the theoretical power to have anyone who displeases you executed is rarely all that it's cracked up to be if you're any sort of vaguely ethical player. Most often, the people who you're playing with play so well that it's a difficult thing indeed to wield any sort of power to censure them or crush their dreams, no matter how much they deserve it, because you yourself remember being in a position where you didn't agree with the current power structure and would not have wanted those in power to crush your own hopes and dreams.
In one of the games in which I play, my most recent character has that kind of power, and I have found myself often longing for the days when instead of being one of the rulers of the realm I was instead an officer in the military, with my chances for advancement ambiguous and ever-changing and the power which I had was entirely vested not in my position but rather in my ability as a roleplayer to convince those who had the power that I did not to do things the way I thought that they needed to be done. Roleplaying that sort of individual is most often more satisfying than having the power itself.
Narrow Your Focus
If you aren't interested in slowing things down or roleplaying the means, or if these suggestions don't apply to your situation, you might want to try narrowing your focus. In a medieval fantasy game of 1,000 players, for example, there are only going to be a handful of folks who can be the best swordspeople. How do you get to be amongst that group? For most players, especially the casual ones who can't spend every waking moment in the game, such a goal would be highly difficult if not impossible.
Instead, focus on one aspect of the goal that you wish to achieve and shoot for it. Specialize. Instead of being the best swordsperson, be the best at parrying or riposting. Instead of being the best seamstress, focus on creating the best linen scarves or skirts. Such things are not often modeled into the code. One level three seamstress probably is much like any other level three seamstress, and does not have any real point of comparison to a level five seamstress save for the fact that the level five seamstress can make things the level three cannot. But while computer modeling in gaming does not yet truly represent the patterns of learning that humans can aspire to, that doesn't mean that you can't roleplay that way. A real-life novice artist, for example, might have an outstanding ability to draw realistic-looking hands but may have a very hard time drawing people in a seated position. The novice might even draw better hands than the master, but overall, the master is more skilled. Focus on these specializations in your roleplaying, and get others to recognize and "buy in" to what you are trying to portray and you may well be the "best" at something before your goals are actually achieved statistically.
This strategy works even better when dealing with social and political goals in a game. While it's tremendously difficult to be elected President or advance to General of the Armies, focusing your social and political abilities on those areas you can easily aspire to and affect can be rewarding in and of itself. As well, such play tends to be noticed by those who are able to assist you in your goals. An outstandingly-played Lieutenant who concerns himself with the minutiae of running his small company of troops and turns in detailed reports on their fitness for combat will advance quicker than one who is constantly carping about how they want more authority and they can't do anything with what they currently have. Make the most of what power you do have, and you will most likely be recognized.
Form A Union
Another strategy to deal with frustrated goals is to join into a group with others. Creating a team dedicated to helping the members of the group achieve their individual goals can be much more powerful than striving by one's self. Even if you can't achieve a goal of being the best at something throughout the entire game world, there's certainly a measure of satisfaction in being the best at something within the group or faction to which you belong. For those with political desires, achieving prominence as an officer of a guild or faction can also meet the needs of such players.
This is, of course, the basis of factions and cliques throughout games of all stripes, and it can be a grave source of frustration for new players who don't know how to join them or are frustrated by the control which such groups exert on the landscape of a game world. Next week's Mummer's Dance will be devoted to exploring the nature of groups in a game world, with tips on how to join them, how to get along within them, and how to know when it's time to give up the ghost. I look forward to seeing you then!
