There are two main approaches to RPG design. One is to aim for a game which is fun, and the other is to aim for a game which is realistic. Neither approach is wrong, but both can be taken too far. It’s something good to consider as a game designer because if your game is too realistic it might kill the fun, and if it’s too fun—well, that’s just plain bad. Seriously though, a game which is too unrealistic can cause players to lose interest quickly.
The first stance most game designers take is that their game should, above all, be fun. This is a fine thing, but if you don’t pay attention to some elements of realism, the fun of your game will suffer. RPGs function based on an imagining of personas in a fictional world reacting in accordance with the laws of the universe and the setting. You can’t do the same things in a medieval world that you can do in a sci-fi one. One way which most games break the rules is with magic. Magic gives you a lot of leeway when designing realism in your games, but it can also cause a lot of havoc for the same reason. While most people can agree that a sword deals more damage than a dagger, comparing a fireball to a sword blow becomes a little more difficult.
If you take the stance that realism is irrelevant, you’ll soon run into some pretty crazy scenarios in play-testing. People will wonder how far they can move, how much they can see, and just how much damage they can do with fire spells. If you don’t answer those questions, or answer them poorly; your game will suffer for it. One interesting point to note is that it doesn’t unusually matter how precisely accurate your measurements are. Just the fact that it’s a consideration is often enough. For example, if you have no rules on overland movement, people will worry. If you have an inaccurate or abstract set of rules on overland movement, most people will be happy. If you measure overland movement too precisely, you might create more trouble than the whole thing’s worth.
Whenever you find yourself adding a rule ‘just because’—think again. Why exactly are you putting this in the game? How realistic is it? Yes, we all know it would be totally awesome to stick that power/item/race in the game, but if someone asks what exactly it does, can you define it in basic terms? A power which allows you to knock over any enemy sounds awesome. It’s not nearly so awesome when demi-humans start using it to knock over Godzilla or ten-thousand-foot titans because it’s ‘in the rules’. You don’t have to cover every crazy eventuality in the rules. All you have to do is set a good example. If you come at the whole game design process from a relatively realistic frame of mind, it’s much more likely the players of the game will do the same. In a game where everything else about the system was gritty and realistic, the above knock-down power would probably be assumed to affect only creatures of similar size. It might even be viewed as a minor typo that you didn’t define the size or weight of the target to be knocked over, or a chance to save against the effect.
On the exact opposite end of things are the games which are too realistic. Some people will say that a game can never be too realistic. It’s possible that’s a valid statement, but I like to err on the side of safety. To me, when a game becomes tedious or boring because of rules which are too elaborate (whatever their noble purpose) they must be eliminated or changed. This applies to rules meant to be realistic, rules meant to be fluff, or any other kind of rules. If it bogs down the game, doesn’t make it any more fun, and serves only obscure purposes; why do you have it in there?
Going off of our example above, you could probably have a complex formula defining chances to knock down a foe based on such things as physics, weight, speed, strength, and density of the object to be felled. Chances are, the numbers will be messed up anyway. Essentially, you have a very complicated way of determining something which is meant to be realistic, but in fact probably isn’t more realistic than saying you have a 2 in 6 chance to knock down people of your size or under. The point is not to be unrealistic, but to beware of being ‘too’ realistic. If you have magic, giant robots, and death rays in your game; people probably don’t want to worry about height-to-weight ratios and complex physics. If you don’t have death rays in your game, I probably can’t help you.
What I like to do is create the ‘illusion’ of realism. For me, realism isn’t a huge deal. If the game is totally awesome, I’m happy. That said, if the game allows me to do things which feel false, the whole world seems to turn into a fictional parody. Non-magical warriors who suddenly glow and then can leap 100 ft. and topple Titans tend to ruin the fun of the game for me. I’d rather have a more realistic warrior who has to design a trap to knock down that big bad guy. Super heroics are fun, but I like to have a reason for them. If it’s magic, special training, incredible smarts—that’s all good. If there’s no good reason, I tend to get a little annoyed.
That said, there are some things I prefer to keep abstract. One thing is wounds. I don’t really want to know all the gruesome details of getting struck with a sword, getting festering sores, and eventually dying. I’d rather go more James Bond style with bullets flying everywhere, nicks and scratches, and vague hit points. I guess you could say there are some things I like to gloss over and some I like to play out. It’s fine with me if my warrior can climb a sheer cliff without much trouble even if it’s highly unrealistic. If he starts walking on ceilings, I’d better hope there’s magic involved.
Another trick you can use is to imagine the people eventually playing your game. Consider them to be smart, mature, realistic, practical, fun-loving, and basically awesome. Imagine the poor GM with his hands full trying to keep track of his super creative players. They all basically want to rule the universe, and he wants to keep some semblance of order and balance in the game. Consider that the GM will probably be looking for a framework to build his very realistic and cool world upon. A world with a high percentage of normal people, a few extraordinary people, and a lot of interesting magic or technology. When the players ask him some basic questions such as: how far can I move? How far can I see? How much ground can I cover in a day? What happens if I don’t sleep for 89 hours?—you want to have some simple answers ready for him. Simple, accurate, to the point, and relatively realistic. How much can they carry? How much magic can they have on them? What happens if they hit the guy for two zillion points of damage?
The more awesome something seems to put in the game, the more careful you should be with it. Your game could have: a load of magic, super combat abilities, or martial arts which can let people smash through concrete. Yes, it’s all cool. Yes, you can still put it in. However, if someone very practical was to play the game, what would they think? “Yes, that’s possible and cool,” or, “There’s no way that could ever work.” I like to aim for realistic in general, with the possibility of rare and powerful craziness. You could try to keep all abilities between every-day to the absolute best professionals with something extra. The little bit extra could be luck, magic, fate, or something inexplicable. Some people may not agree with it, but most will accept it. After all, most people who play RPGs are looking for a little extra—something out of the ordinary. People like to play those special characters who can go the extra mile, do a little more, and make people gape in awe as they pull off the unexpected miracle. Making those special moments everyday would mess up the game, but excluding them completely would ruin it.
Consider the differences between The Lord of the Rings, Dragon Ball Z, and the Matrix. None of those settings are necessarily good or bad, but they all have a different tone, a different reality, and a different level of realism. Chances are, the GMs of your game system will be even more varied than those three. The main point is to allow the players to maintain a milieu with some semblance of reality, whatever that milieu is. Obviously, your game system can’t do everything, but if you take even minor considerations of reality into account, the players of your game will thank you for it. Even such things rules on drowning, fatigue, and falling can help no ends. They don’t have to be totally accurate, but the mere fact that they’re there can take a lot of work off the GM’s shoulders. Go for guidelines, not hard and fast rules. That’s just one more reason templates are so popular nowadays. They let you do what ‘you’ want with them. Good game designs are often something like that—a template. You can do what you want with them.
The first stance most game designers take is that their game should, above all, be fun. This is a fine thing, but if you don’t pay attention to some elements of realism, the fun of your game will suffer. RPGs function based on an imagining of personas in a fictional world reacting in accordance with the laws of the universe and the setting. You can’t do the same things in a medieval world that you can do in a sci-fi one. One way which most games break the rules is with magic. Magic gives you a lot of leeway when designing realism in your games, but it can also cause a lot of havoc for the same reason. While most people can agree that a sword deals more damage than a dagger, comparing a fireball to a sword blow becomes a little more difficult.
If you take the stance that realism is irrelevant, you’ll soon run into some pretty crazy scenarios in play-testing. People will wonder how far they can move, how much they can see, and just how much damage they can do with fire spells. If you don’t answer those questions, or answer them poorly; your game will suffer for it. One interesting point to note is that it doesn’t unusually matter how precisely accurate your measurements are. Just the fact that it’s a consideration is often enough. For example, if you have no rules on overland movement, people will worry. If you have an inaccurate or abstract set of rules on overland movement, most people will be happy. If you measure overland movement too precisely, you might create more trouble than the whole thing’s worth.
Whenever you find yourself adding a rule ‘just because’—think again. Why exactly are you putting this in the game? How realistic is it? Yes, we all know it would be totally awesome to stick that power/item/race in the game, but if someone asks what exactly it does, can you define it in basic terms? A power which allows you to knock over any enemy sounds awesome. It’s not nearly so awesome when demi-humans start using it to knock over Godzilla or ten-thousand-foot titans because it’s ‘in the rules’. You don’t have to cover every crazy eventuality in the rules. All you have to do is set a good example. If you come at the whole game design process from a relatively realistic frame of mind, it’s much more likely the players of the game will do the same. In a game where everything else about the system was gritty and realistic, the above knock-down power would probably be assumed to affect only creatures of similar size. It might even be viewed as a minor typo that you didn’t define the size or weight of the target to be knocked over, or a chance to save against the effect.
On the exact opposite end of things are the games which are too realistic. Some people will say that a game can never be too realistic. It’s possible that’s a valid statement, but I like to err on the side of safety. To me, when a game becomes tedious or boring because of rules which are too elaborate (whatever their noble purpose) they must be eliminated or changed. This applies to rules meant to be realistic, rules meant to be fluff, or any other kind of rules. If it bogs down the game, doesn’t make it any more fun, and serves only obscure purposes; why do you have it in there?
Going off of our example above, you could probably have a complex formula defining chances to knock down a foe based on such things as physics, weight, speed, strength, and density of the object to be felled. Chances are, the numbers will be messed up anyway. Essentially, you have a very complicated way of determining something which is meant to be realistic, but in fact probably isn’t more realistic than saying you have a 2 in 6 chance to knock down people of your size or under. The point is not to be unrealistic, but to beware of being ‘too’ realistic. If you have magic, giant robots, and death rays in your game; people probably don’t want to worry about height-to-weight ratios and complex physics. If you don’t have death rays in your game, I probably can’t help you.
What I like to do is create the ‘illusion’ of realism. For me, realism isn’t a huge deal. If the game is totally awesome, I’m happy. That said, if the game allows me to do things which feel false, the whole world seems to turn into a fictional parody. Non-magical warriors who suddenly glow and then can leap 100 ft. and topple Titans tend to ruin the fun of the game for me. I’d rather have a more realistic warrior who has to design a trap to knock down that big bad guy. Super heroics are fun, but I like to have a reason for them. If it’s magic, special training, incredible smarts—that’s all good. If there’s no good reason, I tend to get a little annoyed.
That said, there are some things I prefer to keep abstract. One thing is wounds. I don’t really want to know all the gruesome details of getting struck with a sword, getting festering sores, and eventually dying. I’d rather go more James Bond style with bullets flying everywhere, nicks and scratches, and vague hit points. I guess you could say there are some things I like to gloss over and some I like to play out. It’s fine with me if my warrior can climb a sheer cliff without much trouble even if it’s highly unrealistic. If he starts walking on ceilings, I’d better hope there’s magic involved.
Another trick you can use is to imagine the people eventually playing your game. Consider them to be smart, mature, realistic, practical, fun-loving, and basically awesome. Imagine the poor GM with his hands full trying to keep track of his super creative players. They all basically want to rule the universe, and he wants to keep some semblance of order and balance in the game. Consider that the GM will probably be looking for a framework to build his very realistic and cool world upon. A world with a high percentage of normal people, a few extraordinary people, and a lot of interesting magic or technology. When the players ask him some basic questions such as: how far can I move? How far can I see? How much ground can I cover in a day? What happens if I don’t sleep for 89 hours?—you want to have some simple answers ready for him. Simple, accurate, to the point, and relatively realistic. How much can they carry? How much magic can they have on them? What happens if they hit the guy for two zillion points of damage?
The more awesome something seems to put in the game, the more careful you should be with it. Your game could have: a load of magic, super combat abilities, or martial arts which can let people smash through concrete. Yes, it’s all cool. Yes, you can still put it in. However, if someone very practical was to play the game, what would they think? “Yes, that’s possible and cool,” or, “There’s no way that could ever work.” I like to aim for realistic in general, with the possibility of rare and powerful craziness. You could try to keep all abilities between every-day to the absolute best professionals with something extra. The little bit extra could be luck, magic, fate, or something inexplicable. Some people may not agree with it, but most will accept it. After all, most people who play RPGs are looking for a little extra—something out of the ordinary. People like to play those special characters who can go the extra mile, do a little more, and make people gape in awe as they pull off the unexpected miracle. Making those special moments everyday would mess up the game, but excluding them completely would ruin it.
Consider the differences between The Lord of the Rings, Dragon Ball Z, and the Matrix. None of those settings are necessarily good or bad, but they all have a different tone, a different reality, and a different level of realism. Chances are, the GMs of your game system will be even more varied than those three. The main point is to allow the players to maintain a milieu with some semblance of reality, whatever that milieu is. Obviously, your game system can’t do everything, but if you take even minor considerations of reality into account, the players of your game will thank you for it. Even such things rules on drowning, fatigue, and falling can help no ends. They don’t have to be totally accurate, but the mere fact that they’re there can take a lot of work off the GM’s shoulders. Go for guidelines, not hard and fast rules. That’s just one more reason templates are so popular nowadays. They let you do what ‘you’ want with them. Good game designs are often something like that—a template. You can do what you want with them.
