Ryan Dancey, famed D&D "Brand Manager", has a column at GamingReport.com, and in it he recently discussed d20 Call of Cthulhu (and, by extension, d20, D&D, the history of the 1st-edition Deities & Demigods book, RPGs in general, etc.).
One interesting point he brings up is the game text assumes you know what to do with everything it gives you:
Mearls makes a similar point about a bunch of different games he bought but never really used (and contrasts them with Chaosium's version of CoC):
I think this gets at the Genius of D&D that Monte Cook wrote about. Once you've seen a dungeon or two, you know how to make your own, and there's all sorts of variety within that structure.
One interesting point he brings up is the game text assumes you know what to do with everything it gives you:
It also assumes that the reader understands the "investigator" framework developed by the original game system. This idea is not self-evident from the text and should have been better explained. Someone coming to the game without prior exposure to the Chaosium game will have a hard time figuring out how to structure the actual game sessions. This could have been the basis of a whole chapter itself, including information on how to run a "classic" game set in the '20s with "Investigators", or a "modern" game using concepts explored in Delta Green (John Tynes, Delta Green's creator is a co-author of D20 CoC), or any number of alternative frameworks (X-Files, Vampire$, etc.)
Mearls makes a similar point about a bunch of different games he bought but never really used (and contrasts them with Chaosium's version of CoC):
I and the other primary GM amongst my friends had no idea what the heck we were supposed to DO with those games.
I clearly remember spending a week poring over SR, learning the rules, making up characters, and then sitting back on a Thursday evening and trying hard as hell to come up with an idea for an adventure that weekend.
I couldn't think of one. I had no idea HOW I was supposed to use all this stuff.
Same thing happened with Ars Magica.
And Millenium's End.
And Warhammer.
When it came time to make up an adventure or plan a short campaign, I didn't have clue one about what I was supposed to do.
Except with Cthulhu. Reading the rules and devouring a paperback of HPL's stories didn't help me at all, but the adventures in the back of the book made it crystal clear what we were supposed to do with the game. The classic haunted house scenario laid the entire game down in 4 pages: characters hear about weird events, go to investigate, uncover bizarre horrors, possibly go insane, gain sanity if they "win".
I ran that adventure, along with the others in the book, a couple from White Wolf magazine, and then ran out and bought two more adventure collections while making up a bunch of my own. We were hooked.
...
The problem with RPGs, IMHO, is that they all have a stereotypical adventure structure buried within them, but precious few take the time to actually spell out that structure. The old red box D&D basic set from 1983 did a good job with that. It basically gave you a sample stocked dungeon and a second dungeon map and said "fill this with monsters." CoC did that, too, though more by example with the half-dozen example scenarios it includes.
I think this gets at the Genius of D&D that Monte Cook wrote about. Once you've seen a dungeon or two, you know how to make your own, and there's all sorts of variety within that structure.
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