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 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.
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.
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:
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.
I'm known for going on tangents. The only consistent thing in my life is that I spend most of it creating things: novels, games, graphics. I love taking apart how art and games work, then reconstructing my own version from the pieces. I'm also enough of a layout perfectionist to adore eraser shields.