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Welcome to the September edition of "Confessions of a Newbie",
the column that consistently asks, "How on Earth did I get here, and
what number do I need to roll to get out?" This month, Im going to
ruminate on a subject brought to mind by some things my son has been
talking about lately.
The folks who publish the Dungeons and Dragons handbooks and
rules have brought out a guide called "Epic Level Handbook". Quoting
the description from Wizards of the Coasts listing of this book, "The
Epic Level Handbook provides all the information that players and
Dungeon Masters need to continue playing above and beyond the limits
of the core rulebooks. With complete information for epic-level character
building, spellcasting, monsters, skills, feats, and more, the Epic Level
Handbook ensures that gamers can continue playing almost
indefinitely". According to my son, this means that your maxed out,
high level character in D&D can now progress towards even greater
powers and strengths. Why, you can make your character capable of
literally walking on the clouds, or, with a little more work, of doing the
things routinely done by characters in martial arts movies.
Without launching into a rant about "god PCs", what this brought
to my mind was, if youre playing an epic level character, than you must
be going against epic level monsters. It only makes sense. After all, if
your character achieves a sort of "demigod" status, "normal" level
monsters will not be any challenge. What does it matter what the names
and descriptions are, if the encounter plays out exactly the same as if
you were a powerful warrior whacking a half-dead rabbit? ("Well, thats
no ordinary rabbit! Thats the most foul, cruel, and bad-tempered rodent
you ever set eyes on!") Some folks might like that, but without any sort
of challenge, it doesnt sound like much fun to me. ("Look, that rabbits
got a vicious streak a mile wide! Its a killer!")
This is a lesson learned many years ago in the comic book world.
Superheroes started out fighting the typical run-of-the-mill bad guys like
burglars, robbers, gangsters, kidnappers, etc. The problem was, none of
these were really much of a "drama" for the Superheroes to fight. The
writers then reasoned that a "superhero" needed a "supervillain" to
battle; the quintessential "arch-nemesis" concept. The readers would
then find themselves immersed in the drama of the uncertainty of the
outcome. While the typical street thug could barely hope to even
inconvenience the superhero, the arch-nemesis actually posed a threat of
defeating the superhero. Suddenly, the outcome wasnt guaranteed, and
the superhero was required to rely not only on his (or her) strengths, but
to figure out how to exploit the arch-nemesis weakness, and to escape
the trap set for his (or her) own weakness. As we read, we no longer
simply assumed that the hero would win simply by allowing the puny
bad guys to waste their energies in futile resistance (like shooting bullets
at the bullet-proof Superman). We were drawn into the story by
wondering and speculating how the hero was going to thwart an
intelligent, realistic plan to defeat him or her.
Gaming, then, must follow suit if it is to remain entertaining.
Ive known some people over the years that liked using "cheat codes" on
"first person shooter" games such as "Doom" and "Heretic". Enter the
"invulnerable" code and the code for "all weapons", and then go
through the game as little more than just a shooting gallery. Granted, it
might be great for exploring the levels, but (to me at least) the
entertainment value is diminished dramatically. Who cares if you can go
toe to toe with the nastiest monster in the game and beat it to death with
just your fists if youve entered a code that keeps it from even scratching
you? Where is the strategy? Where is any sense of accomplishment in
"winning" if you cannot lose? Do you suppose Lance Armstrong would
feel a sense of triumph and accomplishment beating me in a bicycle race?
My only chance of winning would be if he laughed so hard at the start
line that he fell down and busted something on his bike, and even then, I
wouldnt bet against him. No, the accomplishment comes for riders like
Armstrong by competing well against other riders who make them work
for the win. So also the gamers sense of accomplishment should come
from having to "work for the win".
My thoughts, then, are if "Epic Level Gaming" is supposed to
restore the fun and excitement of a game, does it really perpetuate the
fun, or does it merely stave off the "stagnation" for a little longer?
Borrowing again from bicycle racing, Greg LeMond, the first American to
win the Tour de France, said "It doesnt get easier, you only get faster."
If youre playing with a good Dungeon Master, then the game is never
going to get easier. Sure, the DM wont have to constantly explain the
rules to you, but as you get tougher, so will the monsters you fight. If
the goal is merely to advance the character to the next level, then sooner
or later, there wont be any more levels to advance to, or else the goal of
advancement will lose its appeal. Level 2 character or level 50 character,
the game really comes down to the roll of the dice. If that isnt fun for
you at level 2, then I doubt it will be fun for you at level 50 either.
"Newbie" level or "epic" level, the point should be the playing. Perhaps
Im pontificating a bit too much, but I do think sometimes that we lose
sight of the reason were playing in the first place. ("I warned you, but
did you listen to me? Oh, no, you knew it all, didn't you? Oh, it's just a
harmless little bunny, isn't it? Well, it's always the same. I always tell
them . . . ")
Now if youll excuse me, I have a rabbit to battle.
Parenthetical comments courtesy of Tim the Enchanter. Soiled armor
courtesy of the Rabbit of Caerbannog. Armaments 2:9-21 courtesy of
Brother Maynard. If you have no idea what Im talking about, blame it
on the moose.
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