This post is the third in a series about increasing accessibility for those with dyslexia. Today, I want to cover how people with dyslexia process information differently. I'll introduce the tasks that can be harder for people with dyslexia, then apply it to game design in a practical way.
Since information processing affects many parts of gaming, this post covers the widest range of examples and topics. Think of it as an introduction to thinking with a dyslexic brain, with just a few illustrations of how that affects gaming.
Procedural Learning: Not so natural
There is evidence that those with dyslexia have a harder time with "procedural learning", i.e. learning by doing or observing. This is also called implicit learning.
A classic experiment illustrates the process of implicit learning. Scientists let a mouse wander around a maze several times with no rewards or incentive. Then they put the mouse in the same maze with food at the exit. The mouse that had explored previously found the exit much faster than a mouse that had never been in the maze before. Even though the mouse hadn't been taught to find the exit previously, it had "implicitly learned" the layout of the maze during its previous wanderings.
As humans, we rely heavily on procedural learning. We teach through observation followed by practice. This is summed up in the medical strategy: See one, do one, teach one.
Many people with dyslexia demonstrate a limited ability to learn through practice. Watching and even practicing an activity leads to limited improvement. Instead, many people with dyslexia require explicit learning, i.e. being told, "First do this, then do this, then do this, etc." People with dyslexia often need to build up a mental map of explicit rules and processes to understand how to complete a task.
For myself, I can only survive the extensive writing in my job because I created templates for documentation that explicitly state: write this here, then this here, then this here. Any novel writing tasks outside of this explicit structure tend to overwhelm my brain and take much longer. Similarly, I have never been able to learn a foreign language through immersion. Instead, the classical method of learning languages with charts and grammar rules is much easier for me.
How does this relate to game design?
Tides of Gold was the one-weekend experiment that ended up becoming the game that shifted how I thought about Forged in the Dark (FitD) game design.
Rather than do a full post-mortum on the project I want to highlight one aspect that turned out to be really important: the role of playbook concepts.
In Blades and my previous game Karma in the Dark, playbooks were primarily about the type of professional you are, i.e. your skill set. A Whisper is about tapping the occult in Blades; a Broker is about social manipulation in Karma. The playbooks were about what you do (with some flavor of how you do it in the xp triggers).
For Tides, playbooks are more about your role in the crew. If you choose the Compass it isn’t just about doing mystical stuff, it’s about being the moral anchor and voice in the group. Think Cassie in the Animorph books or often Kayley in Firefly. If you are the Old Timer it’s not just about being skillful with surviving, it’s about being the one who has seen tragedy and wants to prevent it from reoccurring by sharing wisdom. The Firebrand, one of the new playbooks, is about being the one who pushes people to take action, to be passionate, to challenge and act fiercer in pursuit of what you care about.
All of this ties back to the central theme of the game. Tides is a game where you play as pirates, but it’s actually about the intersection of family and purpose. You have an anchor that motivates you along with some purpose for striking out into dangerous waters and trying to gain money (and perhaps respect/power). You have a crew that is more like a found family. And your playbook is a way of saying, “this is the role I want to take within this (probably dysfunctional) family.”
I have some unexpected downtime so I want to write a little bit about my method for developing Tides of Gold as a standalone game and some of the new rules. (This post will probably make more sense if you’re familiar with Blades in the Dark or other Forged in the Dark games).
I followed two design principles while creating the rules system for Tides of Gold:
The final result is something I’m calling (not really) Forged by the Apocalypse, i.e. if the Blades in the Dark rules system and the Apocalypse World System had a child:
I made several changes tone-wise to the Forged in the Dark core.
I changed harm and death:
Beyond these specific changes, I cut out any mechanics that were not absolutely necessary or simplified others. I expect to continue this “editing” approach to rules as I continue trying to find that streamlined balance.
The Trade Game
Creating a trade game probably changed the dynamics the most.
The faction/tier game has been replaced by a trade mini-game including an all new “trade phase.” This part of the game will require the most playtesting; the coin economy is based on very theoretical math scribbles I made.
Cargo is an abstract measurement of 7 different types of supplies. At any given time, each port has 1 cargo in high demand, 1 in low demand, and the rest are normal; these demand levels potentially change the worth of what you sell.
Factions stock different cargo which changes dynamically on the GM side, so you get specific loot based on the factions your raid and when. Some cargo always sells for more…but if you carry highly desirable cargo, the raids you face (replacing entanglements) could be more dangerous.
During the trade phase you can sell cargo, buy cargo, ferret out gossip about what different factions are stocking, or try to manipulate the market so a specific item stays in demand (or surplus) longer.
Trade drives crew advancement instead of rep. You invest coin in increasing your Wealth rating; with each Wealth advancement you get a new special power to control trade or influence ports. However, as your Wealth increases, you also become targeted by more powerful factions wanting to steal your profits for themselves.
If your group is all about min-maxing, you can manipulate the supply and demand of ports, locate the best factions to steal from, and increase your trade empire to the point you bribe entire cities to do what you want or actually control supply and demand. The change in markets happens on a predictable schedule, so you can actually plan your sea routes and raids around trying to score before the demand shifts.
Or you can focus on a simpler style: steal stuff, sell it for some coin, and spend it on more downtime crafting actions or personal projects.
Or just, you know, sail around the Reef Lands fighting sea monsters.
When you want to end your campaign, the group makes a roll based on their Wealth and follows the wrap-up prompt based on the roll. This can help give you a sense of conclusion, and can be used if you’ve played 1 session or 50.
Opening the World
The game system is less structured than Crossing Worlds or (I think?) Blades. There are different game phases (scores, downtime, trade, sea travel, freeplay) but there is no set order; you just can’t repeat the same phase in a row.
The world is defined but vast, with 9 detailed ports and lots of open spaces. Factions, notable NPCs, and continent histories are there to inspire stories…but the result will depend on your group and which prompts interest you.
So you could remain in the same port, raiding and selling, for multiple sessions. Or you could rob a ship, sail to a distant land, sell your loot, spend downtime at sea, sail to another location, take downtime at port, trade some more loot, etc. Or go on a focused raiding spree: sail, score, sail, score, sail, score, etc. (until your ship’s upkeep demands downtime). The goal is for the structure to provide prompts for play, not restrictions on it.
The playbooks and crew sheets in the new system only require tiny changes from the Blades compatible format.
I’ll release an updated version of those with the seafaring rules that you can still use in your traditional Forged in the Dark games. (Also…I haven’t combed thru but I think 90% of the rules can be made Blades compatible if you really want to keep to that system.)
You can support my continued game design work by purchasing a copy of Breach through itch.io.
But for the sake of accessibility, I want to keep a free copy of the game here.
You can also watch two members of Gauntlet RPG play the game on Youtube.
Many Forged in the Dark games—including the original Blades in the Dark—open their rulebook with a list of influences or touchstones. These highlight inspirations, but perhaps more concretely, clue players in on what type of media you can expect to create with this game.
The new setting in Crossing Worlds is important to me partly because I struggle to list inspirations that most gamers would understand:
But what about genre touchstones? Surely I have those?
Any mainstream touchstone I could point to is steeped in the culture that created it. Sure, let's say the game is like fantasy, but decolonize it: there are no monsters; there is no treasure or loot; you do not get xp for killing others, instead you have to inflict that damage on yourself too; there is no supernatural magic, instead there is the power that comes from relationships and interdependence and the magic of realizing nature is our equal; there is no concept of set destiny because time is not linear but moves in cycles...but unicorns? I mean, I don't care. Animals of mythical shapes and sizes and features are fun; imagination is cool.
But remember if you do have unicorns they have no special connection with virgins, because women are not owned by their male relatives or defined in relation to male sexual appetites.
There is no good vs. evil, only balance vs. imbalance.
But also there are no heroes and there are no nobles; there are people, choosing to add or to take away.
There is no success condition or happy ending; the world will fall into ruin; your job is to make sure it doesn't happen in your generation; your job is to think about the effects on the generations to come.
Okay, maybe fantasy isn't right, let's look at science fiction.
Oh wait. Western Science. There are literal textbooks and degrees deconstructing all of the tension between that genre and indigenous views.
And this is why I prefer to avoid genre touchstones. I'd rather let the mechanics and the experiences speak for themselves.
So...why am I saying anything at all?
Part of me would prefer to sidestep touchstones entirely. I would prefer to not mention the inspiration at all. That's what my grandmother did; she hid her Cherokee identity for decades. Until she went back home, and decided it was time to be honest about who she is, and started talking. It came out slowly. It wasn't until her 70s that the dam broke and she talked about it every time I saw her; it was only with a few people she talked about her traditional spiritual beliefs at all. But she talked.
So as uncomfortable as it is for me, here are my touchstones. I am Cherokee. Some of my family were on the Trail of Tears; some weren't. Some enrolled with the tribe; some didn't. Some stayed in Indian Country; many did not. Some identify as Cherokee now; some identify as white.
The game is about the tension and complexity of that question: "how do we resist when pressured from all sides to be something else?" Importantly, the game is about you defining and exploring what resistance means. Because it can look vastly different from person to person—and still be valid.
I ask my questions through the lens of the Cherokee culture, but I think the exploration is something we can all relate to on some level. Because I think we're all connected. That's part of the magic.
In July I tweeted: "When you've been working on a project for 3 years, are preparing to release the 4th version, and THAT's when your brain is like, 'Oh, THIS is what the game was about the entire time.' Thanks editor brain, glad you finally showed up to the party."
Last summer I was writing an intro to the Mission chapter of the book, and as I described what missions you would be called to do, and why the powers-that-be relied on the desperate, my brain was like, "Oh hey, this feels familiar."
Crossing Worlds is about several things, but the advancement system? The entire concept of doing missions for "more important people?" Starting with a mix of ideals and ambition, then becoming jaded and beat up in the process?
That part of the game is about the military system in the United States.
What do I mean by that? On this Martin Luther King Jr Day, I'm going to turn to his words. From his speech "Beyond Vietnam":
"I was increasingly compelled to see the war as an enemy of the poor and to attack it as such.
"Perhaps a more tragic recognition of reality took place when it became clear to me that the war was doing far more than devastating the hopes of the poor at home. It was sending their sons and their brothers and their husbands to fight and to die in extraordinarily high proportions relative to the rest of the population. We were taking the black young men who had been crippled by our society and sending them eight thousand miles away to guarantee liberties in Southeast Asia which they had not found in southwest Georgia and East Harlem. So we have been repeatedly faced with the cruel irony of watching Negro and white boys on TV screens as they kill and die together for a nation that has been unable to seat them together in the same schools. So we watch them in brutal solidarity burning the huts of a poor village, but we realize that they would hardly live on the same block in Chicago. I could not be silent in the face of such cruel manipulation of the poor.
"My third reason moves to an even deeper level of awareness, for it grows out of my experience in the ghettos of the North over the last three years, especially the last three summers. As I have walked among the desperate, rejected, and angry young men, I have told them that Molotov cocktails and rifles would not solve their problems. I have tried to offer them my deepest compassion while maintaining my conviction that social change comes most meaningfully through nonviolent action. But they asked, and rightly so, “What about Vietnam?” They asked if our own nation wasn’t using massive doses of violence to solve its problems, to bring about the changes it wanted. Their questions hit home, and I knew that I could never again raise my voice against the violence of the oppressed in the ghettos without having first spoken clearly to the greatest purveyor of violence in the world today: my own government. For the sake of those boys, for the sake of this government, for the sake of the hundreds of thousands trembling under our violence, I cannot be silent."
Full Speech transcript and audio. If you aren't familiar with this speech, it is well worth a listen (or read).
Crossing Worlds, in many way, is about the military. Join. Fulfill the agendas of those above you. Conform to the system to find success, or leave the system. Be pulled in by the promise of benefits (healthcare, stable salary, educational scholarships) but pay the price of extreme stress, potential trauma, and existing in an inherently dehumanizing system that refers to you as "bodies", i.e. "We need another body...you can't go on leave, we don't have enough bodies...ok y'all, we're going to be down some bodies over the next few weeks."
I will be the first to admit the benefits of military service can positively change a person's life. My own family has served for generations, and received financial and educational benefits, as well as developing skills of leadership, resilience, organization, discipline, and probably a dozen others from that service. But as MLK Jr highlights, you can't escape the violence inherent in the system, especially with such a disparity between who makes the laws and declares the wars, and who actually serves.
I can't play military-themed roleplaying games personally. Partly because seeing non-service members "roleplay" being in the military based on Hollywood stereotypes is grating, and partly because I don't like my hobbies to remind me too closely of real-life events.
But as it turns out, all along I was making a game about the military. Just in this version there are no ranks or uniforms, and instead we have super-sized magical pets and Inspector Gadget level cybernetics....and I'm okay with that.
I really want to get Crossing Worlds out. I have handwritten notes for everything I need to write.
I also am really sick of writing. Whenever I try to translate the notes to fully formed sentences, my brain switches into neutral and refuses to budge.
I decided to fall back on my very first writing strategy: using art to push forward. The first full story I ever finished writing (back sometime in like 3rd/4th grade, probably 20 pages total) relied on a very simple technique. I found a picture I liked in the Word Processor, pasted it into the doc, then wrote more of the story inspired by that image. It started with a unicorn, went to a pony, and finished with a jungle (with a fire, cart, cat, and parrot in between).
Turns out that strategy still somewhat works for me.
Simple as it may seem, creating that image helped me write a little more in the new chapter on magic.
I've continued to work on the setting summary. Rather than edit the first post (again) I've decided to post the next version of the setting. Since I don't currently stream my design, this is the closest you can get to design-in-real time.
I am working on making a default ready-to-play setting for Karma in the Dark. Other design projects have been put on pause while I jump fully into this revision.
This is something I've been considering for over a year but put off for various reasons. The rulebook will continue to support making your own world with the world creation chapter, but that will be optional rather than required.
I've been turning around ideas about the default setting for a long time. I want to hold onto touchstones of a dystopian, oppressive world counter balanced by fantastic magic and technology. Perhaps the biggest (and maybe divisive) choice was to leave earth for the default setting. I've felt restricted by concepts of traditional cyberpunk and want to explore similar themes in a different way. That suddenly became easier when I stepped into the broader speculative fiction space.
Below is a draft of the current concept. It is still open to significant change and reworking. (For example, this write-up has already been redone three times today).
This is just a brief peek at a current prototype.
As I mentioned in my update post, I've been reworking/rethinking my idea of mixing Dungeon World with the teenage-superhero vibe of Masks to make a game about being heroes-in-training. Think Fable 1, especially the short interlude where you were training in the Heroes' Guild fighting beetles and bandits.
I want to combine this concept with my burning desire to have a game designed for West Marches style play, by which I mean you can have a different group of players every week but still have a sense of progression individually and within the larger world narrative. In addition, I want a game with minimal GM prep...inching towards the realm of a GMless game. The idea is to make picking up and playing the game as easy as possible, with as little extra time investment as possible.
This post is the third in a series acknowledging key influences on the development of Karma in the Dark. As part of my design post mortem, I want to highlight and acknowledge different (often unknown) contributions to the process.
Adam Koebel uploaded the first episode of Hack Attack to Youtube on Mar 27, 2015. I started my first game hack in June 2015. Almost exactly a year later, I began work on Karma in the Dark. Those events were all closely tied together.
What Was Hack Attack?
Back in 2015, Steven Lumpkin (a professional video game designer) was running a hexcrawl game called The West Marches with a rotating cast, using Dungeons & Dragons 5th edition. Adam Koebel, co-creator of Dungeon World, played several times on the West Marches show. The combination of a non-traditional D&D set-up, a game designer GM, and a game designer player, resulted in conversations about the mismatch between the rules as written and how Steven wanted the game to play.
So Steven and Adam started streaming a show about how to hack a tabletop RPG, using Steven's West Marches campaign as their first example. They streamed a new episode whenever one of them had a relevant game design problem or question. It ran for a total of 7 episodes from March 2015 to April 2016. In the course of the show, they discussed gameplay loops, how to incentivize player behavior, the reward cycle, different approaches to hacking game mechanics, consequences of changing one system within an existing game, introducing new systems to an existing game, and non-traditional roleplay situations like running two groups within the same campaign world.
Part 1: Layout Style
Part 3: Information Processing
This post is the second in a series about increasing accessibility with game design for those with dyslexia. Today, I want to focus on how writing style can make it easier (or harder) for someone with dyslexia to process information. I'll introduce some ways dyslexia affects how people read, then connect it back to games.
Understanding Dyslexia: How Are Our Brains Different?
People often view dyslexia through the lens of the symptoms: difficulty reading and speaking.
To write in a dyslexia-friendly fashion, however, I think it's important to understand the root cause of these symptoms. That knowledge gives us more flexibility to adapt our writing styles around the core difficulty, rather than try and memorize a list of tips. Luckily, advances in brain imaging and neuroscience can help us understand the root causes better than ever before.
Part 2: Writing Style
Part 3: Information Processing
There are several barriers to accessibility in tabletop roleplaying games, from financial, to international shipping, to variable willingness to offer digital PDFs, to reading disabilities. I want to start by focusing on the last one: trying to learn and play TTRPGs with a reading disability.
As someone with dyslexia—who is also frequently the GM and enjoys trying a wide variety of new games—in general, TTRPGs do very little to help those with a reading disability. (I'll be upfront and admit that some of my games have reflected many of the same problems as other games that I'm going to criticize.)
There are several ways to address reading disabilities: how text is laid out, how text is actually written, and how information is presented. In this three-post series, I review each. Starting with layout.
This post is the second in a series acknowledging key influences on the development of Karma in the Dark. As part of my design post mortem, I want to highlight and acknowledge different (often unknown) contributions to the process.
I have a long list of people to highlight in my gratitude posts. My mom belonged to the first Army ROTC class that allowed women, so on this Veteran's Day weekend, it seems appropriate to highlight her. Karma in the Dark would not exist without my mom's support and model.
I am incredibly grateful for my mom. When I was young, she introduced the game "Hero Quest" to our family and took on the Dungeon Master role as Zargon. We bonded as a family by exploring the various campaigns, fighting our way through hordes of monsters. My mom made sure to buy the extra female figures, so I could play a bad-ass female barbarian killing skeletons. I think that was one of my earliest, if not very first, experiences with a RPG game. Her support continued throughout my childhood, as my brothers and I tried out TTRPGs like Shadowrun, Middle Earth, and Star Wars. She encouraged my brothers and I to spend time roleplaying. Even at our nerdiest (writing a newsletter about the escapades of our stuffed animals in our Star Trek equivalent "Anifleet"), she listened, read, and encouraged. She doesn't play TTRPGS, but she read multiple versions of Karma in the Dark, often within in days of being sent the file; she was the first person to offer editing feedback on the last version.
She continues to support gaming as a family experience. During holidays, we split our time between cooking food and playing games. Last Christmas when she came to visit, I wanted to try out the This War of Mine board game. Despite its complexity and dark theme, she agreed. We ended up playing almost every day of her visit, including most of Christmas Day. There were presents, and food, and then hours of us desperately trying to keep our shelter people alive throughout the war. And yes, we had to read the stories and make decisions based on roleplay...because that's the kind of players we are. The mechanics of that game ended up crystallizing several design struggles within my current draft of Karma, and provided the final pieces I needed to finish version 3.
This post is the first in a series acknowledging key influences on the development of Karma in the Dark. As part of my design post mortem, I want to highlight and acknowledge different (often unknown) contributions to the process.
It was the fall of 2015 and I was exchanging emails with Brie Sheldon about Native American representation in the Shadowrun: Anarchy game. They had sent me interview questions for a feature on their blog. I responded to some questions and sent them back. The last question or two, I had sitting in my Wordpad window, open, for weeks.
I never finished the answer and I never replied to that last email.
This is part 3 of 3 about safety tools in tabletop RPGs and why I chose to make Brie Beau Sheldon's Script Change Tool a core mechanic in Karma in the Dark.
In this post, I explain why I didn't choose some common safety tools. This is not to say those tools are fundamentally "bad" or "wrong", they simply didn't provide what I needed for my game.
This is part 2 of 3 in a series about safety tools in TTRPG's and why I chose to make Brie Beau Sheldon's Script Change Tool a core mechanic in Karma in the Dark.
Part 2: Why Karma in the Dark Needed Safety Tools
I was playing a D&D game at a con, and the GM told me I woke up in my inn room to the realization that a stranger, a man, was sneaking across the pitch-black room towards my bed. A beat later, the GM explained that he belonged to the same secret guild as my pre-made character.
In the space of that beat? I was a female player, with a female character, in a group of all men, with the image of being woken up to a dark room with a strange man moving close.
I honestly don't think the GM meant to push the "fear of sexual assault" button. It just didn't occur to him.
In the latest version of Karma in the Dark, I decided to add a "safety tool" to the core rulebook. After a little thought, I decided to put it first in the chapter called "core concepts." Part of me worried about leading with a mechanic that is controversial in some gaming circles, but upon reflection, this mechanic is probably the most foundational and important in the book. I want players to see it that way. If the idea of such a tool turns them off, I prefer that reaction to someone using my game in a way that traumatizes another person.
This topic has a lot of layers. In a series of three posts, I want to talk about the concept of safety tools, why one is required for Karma, and why I chose Brie Sheldon's "script change tool" out of all the possible options.
Part One: Why Safety Tools
Objection 1: Nothing during gaming is "unsafe", so why do you need a safety tool?
This is a common objection. I rarely like to pull my doctor card, but I've been working in trauma for more than a decade and specialize in treating trauma. So you can bet I have Thoughts on this subject.
I'm writing this design post mortem after being up all night writing and editing, so it might not be the most coherent thing ever. I am sure it is full of typos.
But I feel like I need to process the labor of the past nine months before I sleep. Or more accurately, walk my dog, feed the animals, and then sleep.
I Feel Proud
That is a weird statement to make about a creative project of mine. I know there's a 100% chance in the future I will see all of the flaws and unfinished work. But right now I feel like this version of the game represents a huge step forward. I feel like the biggest improvements fall into 4 categories:
I realized I needed a mental break from Karma when the very mention of anything cyberpunk made me recoil. It's probably a decent idea to step away for a week or two so I can come back with fresh perspective.
That break has let me return to my slap-together pirate hack Corsairs. It was a pleasant surprise to go back to something I made months ago and have my first reaction be, "Wow, I want to play this," rather than my usual editor-brain critique fest.
I intended to put together a world creation system similar to Karma, but my mind went blank every time I sat to write down some world creation prompts. Next I turned to my old favorite system of random-generator charts, to see if I could hack a Star Without Number like system together for world generation.
It's important to note that:
What is gaming addiction? Is this a psychiatric diagnosis now?
One of the silver linings of being bed-ridden 70-80% of weekends for the past 5 months is being able to play video games guilt free. When you don't have the mental focus to do anything productive, and don't have the physical ability to do much of anything period, working your way through your Steam backlog feels like a solid option.
During this mass-play of games, two games lodged in my designer-mind for similar reasons: The Witness and Vampyr. While these two games are very different from each other, they share a common design flaw: design choices that distract from the game's core elements.
A speaker at GDC (unfortunately I can't remember the specific speech) made the argument that we shouldn't aim to please everyone with our games; that tactic often leads to more bland, middle of the road game design. Instead, we should design in a way that sparks conversation and controversy. If a game mechanic is polarized between "loved it vs. hated it", your design is more interesting than "everyone said it was fine."
This speech crystallized some of my dissatisfaction with certain aspects of team advancement. In v3.1 of Karma, team upgrades often follow a similar pattern: get the ability that increases our action skill, get an ability to make training xp more efficient, etc. Even the upgrades that were less optimization focused felt...dull?
So I decided to rework almost all of team advancement around a few principles:
This post is completely a thinking-by-journaling piece, so even more than normal I'm developing my thoughts as I go.
I've been listening to GDC presentations during my commute the past 2 weeks. Today I listened to the newest release, a 2018 presentation by Zach Gage called "Building Games that Can Be Understood at a Glance." He introduces the idea of a game that is "subway legible", i.e. if you play this game on your phone while taking the subway, the person next to you can glance over, see the game, and get enough visual information to grab their interest and communicate the core mechanics/point of the game. He teaches people how to create these types of games through the idea of the "3 reads".
Using the example of a concert poster, he explains that the first read is what people can see from a distance and immediately grabs their attention (e.g. the band's name in big text); the second read is when that person moves closer to the poster, seeking more details (e.g. the day, time, venue); and the third read is when people look at those much smaller details that provide the information you only need if you're going to act on the poster or especially interested (e.g. the organizer of the concert's name).
His talk is relatively brief and gives some great examples of how this applies to visual design in games, user interfaces, tutorials, advertisement, etc.
As I watched, I started thinking that this applies really well to tabletop rpgs as well.
The core question of Karma in the Dark is archetypical: what are you willing to do for power? How much will you let the pursuit for power corrupt you?
In the fantasy genre, this is presented as a pretty black and white concept. There is the Big Bad who is Evil, and the Good Guys who fight for what is Right no matter the cost. This paradigm assumes a certain black and white morality.
In cyberpunk, it is more common for compromised, imperfect antiheroes to push back against an even more corrupt system . . . or to push back against people who are doing "the right thing" but in horrific ways that undercut its rightness. This is the gray vs. grey trope of the genre. While it doesn't offer the same stark morality as fantasy, there is still this play of morally right, wrong, what falls in between, and what really determines one from the other.
In Karma, I'm not as interested in right and wrong. From a design standpoint, I don't want to enforce my morales on the player, both on principle and on an engagement level; it's hard to be engaged in a moral struggle if you don't genuinely feel invested in the moral issues.
This is part of why I want players to pick their virtues, rebellion, and team ideal. You pick your morales, and then the world holds those as true.
But I'm also more interested in exploring how these moral choices impact a sense of identity.
This blog is a mix of game design analysis, commentary on issues affecting indie dev spaces, and some personal reflections.