Howdy!
Recently I was reflecting that very often my player characters tend to reflect the preferences and limits imposed by the DM rather than my original vision. By contrast, many wargames allow me to use points to just buy an army. When I try this tactical approach in D&D, fellow players will often advise me (with touching pity) that I am
addicted to power.
Well, Dave Arneson gave the following warning, in
Blackmoor:
Caution! This is the second supplement to the highly addictive game DUNGEONS &
DRAGONS. Handle it at your own risk. Even a brief perusal can infect the reader with the desire
to do heroic deeds, cast mighty magical spells, and seek to wrest treasure from hideous monsters.
The most insidious factor, however, is the secondary nature of this work. Any reader who
becomes infected from this work will immediately develop a craving for the other parts, i.e.
DUNGEONS & DRAGONS, GREYHAWK (supplement I). CHAINMAIL (medieval
miniatures rules), polyhedra dice, and various and sundry other items. Anyone so completely exposed
will certainly be hopelessly lost. In short, if you are not already an addict of fantasy adventure,
put this booklet down quickly and flee!
I was recently trying to compare Chainmail (with the fantasy supplement), OD&D, and AD&D. I'd like to think that I play for the battles, not for the super-powered characters.
Robin Laws, in the book
Robin's Laws of Good Game Mastering, writes:
One of my pet theories about the popularity of roleplaying games
goes like this.
Roleplaying is fantasy shopping for guys.
That is, men would, as a group, be more interested in shopping if a)
it meant never having to leave the house and b) they were shopping for
super-powers.
In that sense, the typical roleplaying rulebook is like a Nieman-
Marcus catalog for super-powers. Depending on the game system and
character type, these extraordinary abilities might be called feats, spells,
schticks, disciplines, skills, high tech gear, psionics, or whatever. For lack
of a better all-encompassing term, I refer to these things as ?crunchy
bits.? Players who dig crunchy bits can not only have fun at gaming sessions,
but can enjoy rule books at their leisure, paging through them in
shivery anticipation of powers to come. It?s no secret that the best-selling
game supplements are collections of additional crunchy bits.
Dungeons and Dragons is the classic crunchy bits game, doling out
coveted powers on a punctuated schedule that would make B. F. Skinner
proud. (Skinner was the psychologist whose pioneering studies examined
the impact of rewards and other external stimuli on behavior. He
found that rewards that occurred every so often were more likely to
encourage a desired behavior than those doled out constantly and consistently.)
Vampire ingeniously aims its play style advice at method actors and
storytellers, but doesn?t stint on the crunchy bits. Some of its top-level
crunchy bits put to shame any zillionth level wizard/paladin with his +50
vorpal sword.
Though the power gamer is the purest exponent of the love of
crunchy bits, even the most dedicated method actor or storyteller can
secretly lust for them in his heart. They allow us to fantasize about flying
even after we?re too old to run around the house with red towels tied
around our necks.
I think Robin Laws is saying that a D&D campaign is like a long sequence of story events, and different characters get a Skinnerian "reward" at different points in the sequence.
The trick is that some points of a D&D campaign really are scheduled -- like the progress through various levels. I think Laws is arguing that D&D's levels are set up so that the players are always driven to get "just one more" level, and so they end up playing characters for hundreds of sessions. The numerous random elements in role-playing games are the only gambling I enjoy, but I know far more folks who "gamble" with invested time in games than with actual cash money.
But is it possible for just a few designers and playtesters, over just a few years, to produce that much "Skinnerian" conditioning? For Laws to be right, this addiction would have to apply to all the popular classes. Were there earlier wargames which exploited this ambitious side of human psychology? I've never read of any game which combines "gambling" and strategy before D&D ... earlier wargames, so far as I can tell, were not described in such terms.
I don't *think* it's the progress through the levels that has me addicted. I think it's that tactical battles are like a special kind of gambling where tactics makes it just rational enough to be interesting. Of course, battles are often decided by random dice rolls, which might be Skinnerian random rewards.
So I wonder if Robin Laws is right. Am I really a strategist and tactician, or am I just hooked on the periodic "rewards"? Are the two compatible? Are successful wargames characterized by a similar kind of "Skinnerian" reward cycle?
I suppose there's little doubt that I'm addicted to strategic and tactical gaming in various forms. At least it's cheaper than tobacco.