Realms of Màgia: Exploring Roleplaying Games As Interaction Design Systems

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REALMS OF MÀGIA: EXPLORING ROLEPLAYING GAMES AS INTERACTION DESIGN SYSTEMS

A thesis submitted to the Kent State University Honors College in partial fulfillment of the requirements for University Honors

Austin J. Reitz

May, 2019

Thesis written by

Austin J. Reitz

Approved by

______, Advisor

______, Director, School of Visual Communication Design

Accepted by

______, Dean, Honors College

TABLE OF CONTENTS

LIST OF FIGURES…..………………………………………………………………….iv

LIST OF TABLES………..………………………………………………………………v

ACKNOWLEDGMENT…………………………………………………..……………..vi

CHAPTER

I. WHAT ARE ROLEPLAYING GAMES?………………………...………1

II. WHY MAKE ANOTHER ROLEPLAYING GAME? ……….…………..5

III. INTENT FOR A NEW GAME……………………………………………9

IV. DEVELOPMENT OF A NEW GAME………………………………….11

V. MEANING AND APPLICATION………………………………………37

VI. FUTURE ITERATIONS………………………………………………...39

REFERENCES…...... 43

APPENDIX

1. FIGURES………………………………………………………………...46

2. TABLES…………………………………………………………………52

iii

LIST OF FIGURES

Figure 1. Character Sheet Attempt Page 1…………………………………………………46

Figure 2. Character Sheet Attempt Page 2...……………………………………………….47

Figure 3. Character Sheet Attempt Page 3…………………………………………………48

Figure 4. Character Pamphlet Prototype Interior 1………………………………………...49

Figure 5. Character Pamphlet Prototype Interior 2………………………………………...50

Figure 6. Character Pamphlet Prototype Skills Interior……………………………………51

LIST OF TABLES

Table 1. Number of Variables Required for Play by Open Game License Roleplaying Games …….………………………………………………..52

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First and foremost, I must thank my thesis advisor, Prof. Jessica Barness. Her guidance and insight have been essential to the development of this project. I would also like to thank my oral defense committee, Dr. Cristin Compton, Dr. Suzy D’Enbeau, and Prof.

David Roll, for their willingness to participate and support. I would also like to express gratitude to Prof. Douglas Goldsmith for the guidance and critique of my illustrations for this thesis. I am grateful for the assistance of Jackie, Katie, Ollie, Corinne, Jake, Leah,

Vanessa, Jaron, Alex, Sam, Max, and all my other friends and classmates who beta tested, completed surveys, and listened to me try to explain what I have been doing for the past eighteen months. Every moment of their time and friendship has helped me immeasurably.

Last but certainly not least, I would like to thank author Art Spiegelman. We met but once after a talk of his, but he offered a small bit of truth: in order to connect with a narrative, you must project upon it. This phrase has been essential to my understanding of my thesis, and I am grateful to him for sharing it with me.

vi 1

WHAT ARE ROLEPLAYING GAMES?

Roleplaying games can be defined imperfectly as collaborative pretending with rules.

Pretending occurs within a Shared Imagined Space (SIS) between two or more individuals, split into two groups of participants: game masters (GMs) and player characters (PCs). The SIS is the made-up continuity agreed upon by all participants

(Edwards et al., 2004). The game master established context and conflict, serving as both narrator and referee. The game master controls all elements of a game’s setting, including every person or being the other participants may meet, called non-player characters

(NPCs). Non-GM players embody player characters, unique and typically multi- dimensional characters who exist solely within the SIS between player and game master.

The SIS is described by the game master and acted upon by the players. Without these two types of players, the game could not function.

In the quintessential roleplaying game Dungeons & Dragons, each player assumes the role of a fictitious fantasy genre person and they behave as that person in the context of the game in a SIS. The player makes decisions and engages with other characters as if they are not themselves. This is roleplaying, though it is known by other names, such as pretending and improvisational theatre. Alternatively, playing a role is derived from lack of choice in what role one is playing. For example, hidden role games such as Ultimate

Werewolf and Donner Dinner Party assign players a random role which they must assume in order to win the game. Since the players have no way of knowing what role

they are about to play as before they start, they are not as invested in the character as if they had chosen their own if they make their own character choices such as in D&D, selecting one’s class, species, alignment, and making many other choices. Rather, the investment comes from survival: the continued experience of the game, rather than from who they embody as a player.

Some people may be allured by the random aspects of these games but given the lack of character choice and improvisational acting, hidden role games and their ilk are not roleplaying games. A more appropriate category for them could be designated as “role + playing”, due to the player characters having set behaviors, typically survival or deception. However, it is possible to play a roleplaying game as role + playing, in order to generate a simulationist experience. For example, if one were to create a stereotypical barbarian character in Dungeons & Dragons, they may not really want to embody that character, but for the simulation of smashing things within the SIS. This is a not to say simulationism is an invalid experience within roleplaying games. Rather, simulationism is one aspect of being multifaceted group of experiences offered by roleplaying games.

Ron Edwards, the game designer and theorist behind the Sorcerer roleplaying game, wrote of three creative agendas in his Big Model of roleplaying games, though he argues that the three are mutually exclusive (2001). In the Big Model, a creative agenda is a reason for a player to participate in a roleplaying game that relates specifically to the SIS the game occupies. The three creative agendas theorized by Edwards are gamism,

narrativism, and simulation. Reductively, gamism is the desire to win. Gamist games typically have logic puzzles or some other means of testing the players, which is measured through probability affected by the statistics of the players, such as stats and abilities. Narrativist games are identified by their structure facilitating questions from the players in causing and enabling them to answer them through the narrative of the game.

As mentioned above, simulationist games are about exploring the context of the game within the SIS. Edwards posits that players with different creative agendas will not gel well within the same game: their goals are far too disparate to be accounted for by the game master.

This assessment fails to take into consideration how the individual elements of each creative agenda are necessary to form a fully realized game. A gamist creative agenda is necessary in order to produce conflict that presents a quantifiable challenge within the mechanical framework of the game. A narrativist agenda is necessary in order to motivate players specifically through their characters to navigate through the SIS. A simulationist approach is necessary to give flesh and feeling to the player characters as well as the

NPCs they encounter. Without these individual elements, a game would either have no mechanic for resolution, thus not being a game, or would not immerse players in the story, thus causing them to stop participating.

In this thesis, I posit that roleplaying should be treated like the original roleplaying: pretending. Pretending is inherently narrativist: one imagines a problem or question and

the story takes off from there. It proceeds into simulationist territory, exploring the imagined space (not a Shared Imagined Space due to the experience being limited to just one individual) and experiencing the context of the adventure. In a solitary imagined context, success and failure are determined by the pretender, and there is no measure of probability through an existent tool. However, in collaborative imaginings, such as roleplaying games, there must be an external measure of success to ensure each participant remains within the SIS and that conflict can be resolved through an unbiased methodology. This measure of success is typically done through dice, cards, tiles, or some other tangible interface. The three creative agendas work together, forming story, exploration, and challenge, each being hallmarks of the medium. Of course, there may be problems with players not having the same goals within the context of a game, but that is not a fault of the system. The game master can attempt to remedy such a problem by providing the creative agenda elements that the players crave within the same context. An ideal system should facilitate this use, establishing rules and guidelines for the game master in order to reduce inter-player conflict caused by conflicting creative agendas.

WHY MAKE ANOTHER ROLEPLAYING GAME?

Since the publication of the Dungeon Master’s Guide for Dungeons & Dragons’ fifth edition (D&D5e) in 2014, the population of people playing roleplaying games has more than tripled (Hall, 2017). According to online roleplaying game hosting site Roll20,

D&D5e makes 60.88% of all played games, a number which is growing by 3% each business quarter (Bigbee, 2018). These reports of course exclude games played without a digital host, but due to the prevalence of D&D content in popular media, such as live streams (Critical Role, Dice, Camera, Action), podcasts (The Adventure Zone), and television shows (Stranger Things, HarmonQuest), roleplaying games are drawing a growing audience. According to Greg Tito, senior communications manager for

Dungeons & Dragons, 2017 has over “7,500 unique broadcasters streaming live play D&D for more than 475 million minutes watched over the course of the entire year,” coinciding with the game’s highest sales since it was acquired by Wizards of the Coast in

1997 (Weiss, 2018). Part of D&D5e’s continual growth and success is due to its game mechanics and openness of narrative, a hallmark of the tabletop genre. Compared to previous editions, particularly third revised and fourth editions, D&D5e is streamlined, with a conflict resolving probability tool based on a twenty-sided die roll (1d20) added to one of six ability scores opposing a predetermined static number. Having a simple system is an effective tool for maintaining a new player population, for complexity often deters incoming players from participating in the long term. This phenomenon is one reason as

to why roleplaying games remained a primarily niche hobby from its inception until the mid-2010s.

Nonetheless, this lack of accessibility prior to this resurgence caused by properties such as Critical Role and The Adventure Zone is likely a result of community gatekeeping and internal elitism. Aside from issues the industry has had with rampant misogyny, racism, and other forms of bigotry, the target consumer culture generated a sense of elitism in the form of feeling smart enough for the medium. When D&D published their second edition, it was released in two formats: Advanced Dungeons & Dragons and Basic

Dungeons & Dragons. AD&D sold more books than its “basic” sibling. This is because since the release of the first edition, a culture emerged in the mid-to-late 1970s in which the target audience of socially awkward, nerdy white men perceived themselves due to social pressure as too intelligent for a “basic” game. The perception of previous players as being the sole audience grew within the player population, resulting in othering newcomers. The marketers at Wizards of the Coast realized this, and retired the use of the title Advanced Dungeons & Dragons before the publishing of the third edition of the game as to limit the alienation by the culture they cultivated.

Within the context of player population, though impossible to isolate from its marketing and the pre-existing biases of its writers, a subculture of character optimization arose from the original target audience. Optimization, or min-maxing, is the process of using the rules of a game system to make a hyper-competent character. Optimizers who push

their min-maxing to the detriment of the enjoyment of other players are known as munchkins. Optimization, but not munchkin behavior, is primarily a reasonable extension of the gamist creative agenda, which is a valid rationale for playing a game: to experience mechanics and solve logical and mathematical puzzles.

Games designers and players are aware of this and thus they include tips for how to make a survivable character within the context of the game without assuming anything about how far the players wish to push their interest in the crunch of the game. It should be noted that crunch refers to the mechanical rules of a game, while fluff refers to the narrative elements. D&D5e includes “quick builds” for each of the character classes listed and the cast and crew of Critical Role produce videos giving guidance to how to make functional characters through Handbooker Helper (Arielle, et al., 2019). These guides are introductions to how to navigate a game’s crunch, and are thus on the opposite end of the gamist player spectrum than munchkins. The idea of min-maxing in and of itself is not harmful: it is the pursuit of a gamist creative agenda through exploration of crunch. What is harmful is the creation of a subculture (munchkins) who dismiss the interest of players who do not have the same level of crunch-based knowledge as them and thus serve as holier-than-thou gatekeepers. The munchkin subculture flourished during the AD&D era due to the insular nature of the culture at the time, thus preventing the game from growing in player population for years at a time.

Having a simple game is fine, but for players of the more complex editions published prior to 2014, the simplicity of D&D5e is not as stimulating as required by previously released games, thus manifesting as backlash and toxic gatekeeping of knowledge and skill that would be to the benefit of the entire player population. Thus, the satisfaction or lack of satisfaction of gamist creative agendas is a double-edged sword: a simplistic mechanic entices new players but alienates old ones, while maintaining older, more complex layers of crunch limits the game’s reach to those with prior experience.

I believe I can design a roleplaying game that not only bridges the gap between incoming players and older crunch-oriented gamists, but can satisfy gamist, narrativist, and simulationist creative agendas.

INTENT FOR A NEW GAME

The design of a roleplaying game is not so much the development of a sequence of choices and resulting events delineating a few specific paths within the parameters of the choices, as evident in video games and choose-your-own-adventure books, but rather a microcosm and a series of rules governing it. However, when making such a sandbox, it is important to consider the audience, for in the realm of games, it is the audience who makes story and art from the presented set of rules. American poet Walt Whitman once wrote that “to have great poets, there must be great audiences,” and the same is true for the architects of collaborative narrative: in order for a game’s system to be great, it needs to be understood and explored by a great audience (Whitman, 1892, p. 324).

In order to connect to the needs of the diverse great audience, I established six goals for the end product:

1. Establishes a context in which players are comfortable playing the game and are

motivated to participate towards a common goal.

2. Simulates every possible scenario with various levels of intensity.

3. Facilitates cooperative storytelling, where all users have an equal stake in the

group narrative.

4. Possesses components that can be removed from the system to ease use if desired

by users.

5. Inspires repeated and creative use of the framework.

6. Is flexible so that users may implement their own content to improve the quality

of their narrative, such as through “homebrewing”.

With these goals in mind, the resulting roleplaying game, Realms of Màgia, is built to is accessible to all sorts of users, ranging from the casual to the optimizing, and is built using a design framework that is applicable to all simulated conflict, whether physical combat or interpersonal mystique. The end product will consist of a core rulebook in which are the rules of play and character creation and a duplicable booklet for individual character information.

DEVELOPMENT OF A NEW GAME

Before designing the game system, I first discerned the general creative agendas, attitudes, and needs of potential players. Anonymous surveys were completed by students, actors, and coworkers of varying ages and levels of experience with roleplaying games to collect this information. These surveys posed questions regarding the answerer’s familiarity with roleplaying games, their interest in such games, their willingness to play a roleplaying game versus participate in other media (namely play video games, read books, watch television, or other media with a predetermined conclusion), and their own creative agendas. As the results of the surveys concluded with a varied distribution of creative agendas, levels of familiarity, and interest in the game genre. To address this information, namely the variety of creative agendas and familiarity, my design process revolved around using familiar concepts in new manners to satisfy creative agendas with the modes of other creative agendas.

Most roleplaying games are based on a mechanic of varied versus static. In the numerous editions of Dungeons & Dragons, a d20 roll is compared to a calculated Difficulty

Challenge (be it for a spell, supernatural ability, or a target’s armor class). The onus of fault is on the one rolling the die. While narratively failures and successes can be flavored as action on either of the participants’ part, the preconceived notion is that the individual not rolling is unwavering in their skill. From a narrativist standpoint, this is ludicrous. A story that is being written simultaneously by numerous people does need consistency, but

what keeps each player on the edge of their seat is the chance for either glorious success or stupendous failure on either party’s part. So, to appease a narrativist concern, a gamist solution must be implemented. Probability must be simulated on both ends of the interaction, so the elegant solution is to have a contest between two randomly simulated variables with the greater of the two becoming the victor. This is nothing novel, for contests have existed in games such as Savage Worlds, but it serves as a starting point for a system with hopes of satisfying numerous creative agendas.

With a specific mechanic in mind, the next step was to select a mode of probability to control the basis of every resulting conflict within the framework. The genre-defining answer is dice, but it is not a complete answer. Tabletop games are no strangers to four-, six-, eight-, ten-, twelve-, and twenty-sided dice, as well as various quantities of each, allowing for two ten-sided dice to simulate any number from zero to ninety-nine. Most people, whether players of roleplaying games themselves or otherwise, associate the twenty-sided icosahedron (or d20 as it is known within the community and framework of many games) with roleplaying games, especially those of the fantasy genre.

What about the d20 is indicative about the fantasy roleplaying experience? Ethnographic answers ranged from the heft of physical dice to nostalgia. Even though portions of

D&D’s game rules are available for licensing for third-party developers through the Open

Game License (active for both third and fifth editions) as done by Paizo for Pathfinder, I would rather draw inspiration from the d20 system than directly modify their pre-existing

mechanics (Dancey, 2004). So, a solution to the design problem of selecting a mode of probability exists in two forms: choosing a mode of dice evoking the same principles of heft and nostalgia or choosing a mode separate from dice. Other options include drawing cards, spinning spinners, flipping coins, using digital number generators, discerning directional probability by dropping arrows, or mathematically unfair challenges of real- life physical or mental skill. So, the answer lies not in the mode, but the range of probability. To mesh best with the preexisting hobby market and connect to the cultural awareness of roleplaying games, dice will serve as a default mode of probability, though any mode with the same mathematical fairness shall suffice.

So, what is the range? Due to limitations of the hobby market, I am restricting my search to the probability offered by fair polyhedra. “A convex polyhedron is fair by symmetry if and only if it is symmetric with respect to all its faces”; thus, a die subject to a rotation resulting in a face in the original’s position is fair (Diaconis & Keller, 1989, p. 337). Dice that are fair due to symmetry by face include coins, four-, six-, eight-, ten-, twelve-, and twenty-sided dice, as well as others including the uncommon thirty-sided die. Of these options, the dodecahedron (d12) and rhombic triacontahedron (d30), evoke a similar heft and shape as the classic d20, while producing a smaller or greater range of probability.

Would in-narrative stakes benefit from a greater range of probability? My initial thought was yes, but upon testing, lower-level campaigns were frustrated and often thwarted by the disparity of individual success due to the larger range of the d30. While this would seem to fulfil goal no. 2 (simulates every possible scenario with various levels of

intensity), the great range offered by the d30 was a detriment to the simulationist and narrativist creative agendas of the players. What was missing from the tests was a sense of potential for advancement and the influence of chance overshadowed the abilities selected by the players for their characters. The solution was found in a scaling system of dice that increased in number of faces as a character advanced in level. This system, dubbed DICE, uses a d8 from first level to tenth level, a d10 from eleventh level to twentieth level, and a d12 from twenty-first level to thirtieth level. The fewer the number of sides on a die, the greater the influence of numeric bonuses affecting such dice rolls, which in turn prevents wild probability without input from players as what occurred in the d30 experimentation. Additionally, this level-based increase of DICE size was found to encourage players to continue to participate due to the promise of advancement, a facet of goal no. 5.

DICE are to be used for the core mechanic of skills (probability contests with a numeric modifier), which is the only use of such modes of probability with only a few exceptions

(percentile dice and critical hit chances being the most common alternate uses). This choice was made in response to my experiences introducing new players to a variety of roleplaying games. For example, even though D&D typically requires a d20 for basic checks and attack rolls, other polyhedra are used in a wide variety of quantities for damage, which often causes new players to mix up dice of similar sizes and shapes. Thus, in an attempt to make the game more accessible to all users regardless of their prior experience, reducing the amount of dice / modes of probability required for a broad

blanket of actions is necessary to begin to combat the elitism and gatekeeping found within the tabletop community. If a new player is confused as to when to roll what die to use in which situation, I have observed that this error is most likely to occur during character creation. So, dice rolling in character creation should follow the same restriction of being applicable only for skills. If DICE are used elsewhere, in a non- attempt manner, it is typically as a part of an ability or feature earned at a higher level, as players playing at a higher level are more likely to have played the game for a longer period of time, and thus are not as prone to become baffled by the mechanic.

Once enough of the system had been developed, it was ready to be tested. The testing process was composed of running a single-session basic adventure based on a simple campaign hook pertinent to the players’ interests. The players were given the rules to build a character and then I would work with them after the fact to check their work and understanding of the system. At the end of the real adventure, I asked the players if they had any issues with the system and if they would prefer it to be resolved or changed. This process occurred six times, covering level one twice, level five, level ten, level fifteen, and level twenty-five.

During the testing of the game, one of the users inquired why during character creation there is DICE rolling. They argued that dice rolling as a variable during regarding the power level of character created disparity between individual characters. There is truth to the statements. However, this is done in anticipation of additional official material and

homebrew. As observed during the lifetime of D&D third edition and third revised edition, the longer a system is in play, the greater power creep manifests. Power creep refers to increase in complexity of content of later releases in a game system rendering the original less powerful or obsolete. The last splat book released for third revised edition was a book entitled Tome of Battle: Book of Nine Swords. Tome of Battle is infamous in the role playing game community for two reasons: one, it was created as an attempt to make martial characters just as powerful as prepared arcane and divine spellcasters, and two, it failed to do so while creating a power disparity betwixt core martial classes (such as the fighter and paladin) and the maneuver wielding classes (such as the warblade and crusader) making the core classes even more obsolete. Due to the inevitability of this trend, I have foreseen implementing rules to try to maintain a consistent power level throughout future releases. Since skills, and by extension perks, are the goods bought by the currency of character creation (points), perhaps a strategy to prevent power creep is to let poorly aging or disadvantaged classes to have additional points to spend on skills and perks via DICE rolling in character creation, while more powerful classes do not get that boon. Further user testing after future releases of splat books will determine if this is the case or if the opposite is true.

If there are issues with implementing additional classes, why use a class system at all?

Classes have been a staple in role-playing game industry since its beginnings. The influence of character classes can be found in modern media, including video games; generalized terms such as support classes in a first-person shooter (such as Overwatch)

and direct reference in JRPGs (such as the Final Fantasy series) are commonplace.

Classes are classes are a quintessential part of RPG culture: when asked what type of character is played, they will often respond with the class of their character. It is for this reason that I have chosen a class-based system rather than point-buy, such as the systems found in Shadowrun or Mutants & Masterminds. Even games that are not designed for long-term use that are fast and loose with the rules such as Monster of the Week, use a class-based system in the form of “playbooks”. The concept of vaguely describing a character’s identity from which a player builds a multifaceted and unique individual is at the heart of the role-playing game genre. People are familiar with the archetypes, though they go by many names. It is because of role-playing games that terms like wizard, druid, and barbarian are common vocabulary. As my primary goal is to make a game that is accessible to both the uninitiated and familiar player base, it is logical that I design a framework that references the frameworks before it as well as current media born from such cultural knowledge.

Now that the system has been decided upon, there must be a means for users to interface with it. This is known as character creation, the process in which a player makes a player character. In modern game media, video games are the dominant mode in which users experience character creation. However due to the mechanical restraints of such systems, one’s choices and character creation often seem irrelevant. This begs the question, is character creation composed of irrelevant choices that result in the same experience? The idea of character creation is inherently restrictive, perhaps serving as an antithesis to the

individualism inherent in the use of such a system. So, as an exercise in the development of such a microcosm and a series of rules governing it, I must make a choice between allowing for near-unrestricted potential for individual choices or providing a slate of options with the onus being on the audience to transform the framework to their own needs and wants. The latter option coincides with the choice to pursue a class-based system. However, the system should be open ended (as designated by spending points for skills, much like a point-buy system). It should be noted that this choice also parallels modern and perhaps Dadaist uses of character creation, primarily in the form of Monster

Factory. Monster Factory is a YouTube series created by brothers Justin and Griffin

McElroy where the brothers fiddle with the character creation of various video games to create characters outside foreseen parameters the game developers envisioned. Justin

McElroy put it best saying “This is not a mean-spirited show. It’s about creating things that are initially horrifying and then finding the beauty within, as we can all do for ourselves and those around us” (McElroy & McElroy, 2015). I have no intention of being restrictive in my game design as to limit the types of stories one can tell within the

Realms of Màgia. Any intent to otherwise would be in contradiction of goals no. 3 and 5, as well as the McElroyan search for inner beauty and derivative narrative. Thus, I must make character creation relevant to the narratives that will be born from the framework.

Elements such as background and language are my attempts at planting seeds that may influence the choices made in the game and give dimension to characters born from it.

Layers of complexity fit best for this school of thought; players are given numerous options and opportunities to stray from the norm, following their own whims or the

footsteps of the McElroy Brothers. Additionally, more abilities and character traits typically lead to long-term play. The more dimension there is to a character’s personality, more time is spent on the narrative dissecting or experiencing it (a boon for narrativist creative agendas). Likewise, the more facets there are in a character’s written abilities, the more time is spent using and improving those abilities (a boon for gamist creative agendas). In short, complexity inspires continuous and creative use (goal no. 5).

This creative use should exist beyond the context of the creation of the characters, being integrated into the cycle of developing further content for the system. The classes and other content presented should serve as a starting point for users’ own creations, including the creation of player characters, campaigns, and homebrew content (building their own classes, species, totems, perks, etc., satisfying goal no. 6); thus, the chassis of each class, the varied base components shared between its members, provides enough mechanical information for the astute user to begin the machinations required for such a feat. The chassis of a class determines the general style of play towards which a class is geared. These components (health, points per level, priorities, archetype, and armor proficiency) make up a chassis and are different for each class, reinforcing the idea that each class is unique and serves a different role, even if some classes have similar traits or share abilities. Currently there are seven base classes in Realms of Màgia. They are the

Adept, the Archer, the Berserker, the Bombardier, the Combatant, the Expert, and the

Knave.

Health in Realms of Màgia is split into two values: pain resistance and morale. The former refers to physical hardiness and the other mental longevity. These values are static, meaning they are not determined randomly, due to there being no other instance within the framework in which damage or harm is calculated by dice roll. Dice rolls are typically restricted to skill attempts and gaining of points during character creation for skills. Pain persistence and morale have fractional components and corresponding harm conditions (Scratched Up, Wounded, Uninspired, Frightful, Unconscious, and Dead) to produce gamist and narrativist ramifications for mortal actions. The idea of static health is not a new concept, existing within the Starfinder RPG, but it is an elegant solution to earlier design problems regarding fair distribution of health across classes with different modus operandi. It makes sense for Berserkers to have eleven pain resistance per level, for the class is based on the concept of soaking up hits, a feat uncommon for a Knave, a class that thus has a lower pain resistance per level. The number of points a character receives during character creation and level up is composed of a DICE roll and a numeric bonus based upon the projected strengths and versatility of the class. For example, the

Knave class receives DICE + 8 points per level, reflecting the varied and multifaceted portrayals of rogues, thieves, and charlatans within countless fantasy media. The

Berserker on the other hand, only receives DICE + 4 points per level, reflecting this straightforward hack-and-slash nature of the more single-minded class. The balance of these traits occurs in class abilities, whereas the Berserker will out-damage the Knave the majority of the time, while the Knave will often have a leg up on the Berserker in social,

reconnaissance, and intellectual situations, due to being a generalist character. This nature is also reflected in a class’s priorities list and list of potential weapon priorities.

Archetype is a way of notifying players the general inclinations of a class. Adepts are of the Personality archetype due to the majority of their abilities and skills relating to social interaction. Additionally, archetype serves as a means of organizing access to certain totems and perks, to keep the game balanced. The division of archetype into the categories of Arcana, Battle, Personality, and Talent was done to evoke the classic roleplaying game classes of magic-user, warrior, priest/support, and thief, respectively.

Armor proficiency serves two purposes: it gives players the idea of what sort of protective gear with which such a character might use to protect themselves and it further codifies the role a class has been an adventuring party. Simply put, a Berserker wearing hammered bronze armor is going to tank more hits than a Knave in leather armor.

The early development of this game did not have the Adept class. This was likely due to the common perception of an adventuring party consisting of a warrior, a cleric, a thief, and a wizard. Archetypically, none of these figures are perceived as exceptionally charismatic or multifaceted jacks-of-all-trades. Such a character concept would not be included until Advanced Dungeons & Dragons Second Edition with the introduction of the bard class. Despite their current popularity, bards are not traditionally perceived as a core adventuring class. As result, Adepts were not born out of the idea of a bard. Rather, the Adept started as a class designed exclusively for NPCs. They were supposed to be

shopkeepers, politicians, and the regular folk one meets on the street. However, as I continued to design, I found similarities between the chassis I was making with iconic charismatic character such as Princess Leia and Han Solo from Star Wars. It is from these two characters that the jack-of-all-trades nature of AD&D2e’s bard and Starfinder’s envoy began to bleed into the class. With mix-and-match Adept Traits, the Adept became one of the most versatile classes in the game, serving as healer, diplomat, and perhaps even a vampire hunter.

The archer is a common trope in fantasy literature and film, primarily stemming from two characters in the same novel: Aragorn and Legolas from J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the

Rings. The impact these two characters have on the fantasy genre is unmeasurable. It is due to Aragorn that the term ranger is in common parlance outside of Scouting and environmentalism. Both characters show affinity for nature combined with a deadly proficiency with bows. In earlier editions of Dungeons & Dragons, rangers were chaotic good humans with unique fighting styles and elemental companions. In third revised edition, rangers could channel their bond with nature into spellcasting, an animal companion, and the damage bonus against certain creatures. Rangers became skirmishing characters throughout a plethora of other games and media, but each felt like a loose grouping of character concepts. The Archer is my attempt at creating a consistent character archetype that has since been muddied by disparate iterations. The Archer combines the original concept of the potent ranged warrior with later iterations’ choice of fighting style, as exemplified by the Ranged Method ability. Throughout history, people

have taken up the bow as a means of hunting, defense, and military strategy. Due to my framing of the Combatant as a potent specialist warrior, I decided to model Archers off of the stealthy hunter archetype. Archers are hard to spot and are incredibly dangerous once unseen. Abilities such as Beyond Notice and Quiet Toes were born from this idea. Since this iteration of the Archer concept derives much of its chassis and skill set from archetypical hunters, it is logical to find inspiration in modern interpretations of hunters.

The recent video game Monster Hunter World was investigated in an attempt to glean how unfamiliar audiences perceive fantasy hunter characters. In Monster Hunter World, players hunt the titular monsters, kill them, and craft weapons from their flesh. One of these weapons is called the insect glaive, a weapon with different statistics depending upon where one strikes the monster. This concept evolved into the Mark ability, granting the Archer a unique boon depending upon the type of creature struck, further connecting the class to the idea of a hunter. Other inspirations for the Archer’s abilities, such as

Acquired Target and Sharpshooting, come from character such as L. Rider Haggard’s

Allan Quatermain, James Fenimore Cooper’s Natty Bumppo, and Laura Bailey’s

Vex’ahlia de Rolo (née Vessar).

In the third revised edition of Dungeons & Dragons, there were four traditional martial classes in the core rulebook: the barbarian, the fighter, the paladin, and the ranger. Each of the classes filled the same role, to deal damage, but did so in different ways.

Barbarians became stronger temporarily for a short period of time; fighters were stronger with a specialized weapon; paladins were stronger against evil-aligned enemies; rangers

were stronger with a specific weapon and against a specific type of foe. The idea of self- buffing (improving one’s abilities temporarily) is common in modern video games, so pursuing the D&D 3.5 idea of barbarian would connect to a cultural touchstone for new, younger players. However, the concept of a barbarian is not as straightforward as what one would intuit. The origin of the name and the original introduction of the character concept comes from Conan the Barbarian, a character known for his physical strength.

However, Conan is also a cunning character, using strategy to supplement his natural talents in combat and thievery. D&D barbarians are not known for exceptional intelligence or sleight of hand, so Conan is not an appropriate source for a character class.

Additionally, the word barbarian’s original and ancient meaning meant a person who did not speak Greek, and building a class on a xenophobic preconception is not ethically or mechanically sound. Rather than drawing on etymological roots, inspiration was drawn from mythological figures such as the Irish Cú Chulainn, the Greek maenads, and Norse berserkers. These figures enter into a state of strong emotions, often augmenting their combat prowess in the case of Cú Chulainn and the berserkers. The connection of emotion to physical strength or transformation exists in works of literature, such as in

Robert Louis Stevenson’s Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, in comics and cinema, such as the Incredible Hulk, and in streaming media, such as Travis

Willingham’s Grog Strongjaw. Each of the resulting Berserker class’s abilities are derived from emotional intensity (Fury, Liquid Courage, Draw Attention, Overthrow

Thrall) and use of brute force as a solution (SLAM!, Force It, Warp-Spasm).

The Bombardier is not a common character archetype or trope in fantasy media. In fact, the closest idea to my interpretation is that of alchemists of lore and their subsequent appearance in the Pathfinder roleplaying game. The general concept is that of a scientist or an enthusiastic student navigating a world of magic armed with a chemistry set and literal bombast. During the design process, as Adepts and Experts gained a myriad of options (in the form of Adept Traits and Products of Expertise, respectively), a combat- based class began to require the same versatility. To fulfill this role, inspiration was drawn from Mark Twain’s A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, in which the modern Hank Morgan navigates Arthurian times using his knowledge of future technology, besting even the wizard Merlin with his contraptions.

Akin to the Berserker, the Combatant class was born from a specific playstyle familiar to both incoming and returning players: the weapon specialist. Warriors are common imagery in our media: they fill our movies, television programs, and comic books, be they Wonder Woman or Samurai Jack. The overarching theme behind these characters is that they are skilled in combat, be it melee or at range, but are particularly deadly with a specific weapon. For Wonder Woman, this is her lasso; for Jack, his katana. Current fantasy media still holds tight to this trope, as demonstrated by R. A. Salvatore’s Drizzt

Do'Urden (wielding Twinkle and Icingdeath, two enchanted scimitars) and Travis

McElroy’s Magnus Burnsides (wielding Railsplitter, an enchanted battle axe). The

Combatant class is designed to reflect this devotion through features such as Method,

Definite, and Win, but maintain versatility through having access to numerous Weapons skills as priorities.

Much like the Adept, the early development of the game did not have the Expert class until an NPC concept was elevated to PC status. However, the chassis of the class presented the opportunity of a more individualized character creation experience. As

Experts receive the second highest number of points per level, after the Knave class, and can select their own priorities, different playstyles are bound to arise. One Expert could focus on investigative work with skills like Notice, Marksmanship, and Street Smarts, while another could be an underhanded warrior equipped with Antagonism and Great

Weapons. This versatility and intelligence of the Expert class is inspired by literary characters such as Lemony Snicket’s Violet and Klaus Baudelaire and Sir Arthur Conan

Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes. Both the Baudelaires and Holmes exhibit an exceptional level of precision in their respective fields even under extreme levels of pressure and stress, giving rise to Expert class features such as Favored Skill, Portfolio, Rush Job, and

Proficient Rush Job. Drawing from its origins as an NPC class, the Expert is about consistency: maintaining a level of expertise and applying it in unique, outside-the-box scenarios.

Literature has always had a fascination with scoundrels and anti-heroes: the characters whose gray-morality masks their intentions and mirrors their skills in subterfuge. The archetype of the thief has been present in roleplaying games since its inception. The skills

of stealth and twisting words have been fundamental to precursor games such as Assassin and roguish literary and media characters, such as Tom Sawyer, A. J. Raffles, Arsène

Lupin, and Carmen Sandiego. It is these skills that form the chassis of the Knave class, emphasizing deftness of word and hand over brute force or inventive practices. Class features such as Verbal Backslide, a few Adept Traits, Mental Backtrack, and

Specialization combine well with the Propaganda skill to maintain a Knave’s charlatan persuasion. Of course, not all Knaves are of vile intent; personality and characterization are determined by the player. Good-natured Knaves include J. R. R. Tolkien’s Bilbo

Baggins and George Lucas’s Indiana Jones. Both Bilbo Baggins and Indiana Jones are much more inclined to use their dexterity in difficult situations, much like how the

Hidey-hole, Fast Sneak, Reconnaissance, Flee the Scene, and Hide in Shadows class features enable Knaves to capitalize on the variety of Nimble skills they possess.

Traditionally, rogue-like characters in roleplaying games are designed to find the weak points of their enemies and strike for a lot of damage, typically through a feature called

Sneak Attack. Due to the cultural consensus of rogue characters and sneak attacks going hand-in-hand, the onus was on me to implement a similar ability for the Knave to prevent audiences from losing interest while remaining true to the original class concept. Features such as Backstab, Underhanded Combat, Specialization, and Assassinate enable Knaves to fill this niche without overshadowing their strengths in espionage.

Character classes and totems describe what a character can do, but background establishes the context in which a character gained their abilities. While mechanically

backgrounds provide minor details that can support a build by adding another priority skill to a class or a unique synergy link between skills, the role of a background is primarily that of a narrativist creative agenda. Of course, the mechanics of the game may be more important to some players than others, who would gladly select the Royalty or

Soldier backgrounds, which have higher starting wealth, niche skills, and mechanically useful abilities rather than backgrounds with lower wealth and infrequently useful abilities such as the Commoner or Convict. However, both the Convict and Commoner backgrounds present interesting opportunities for narrative. These backgrounds prompt greater interaction with the overall narrative of campaigns due to adding detail to the SIS.

The loose and minimalist nature of background meshes well with the gamist desire to make an optimized character and the narrativist desire to make an interesting story.

Flaws follow the same internal logic as backgrounds. In standard play, flaws are not required; there are no steps in character creation that says to take any number of flaws.

Rather, they are supplementary to the experience a player wishes to have. From a narrativist perspective, flaws give depth to a character. In the first season of the D&D live streaming show Critical Role, actor Travis Willingham portrayed the goliath barbarian

Grog Strongjaw. While Grog is known for his incredible strength, he is also known for his low intelligence, including illiteracy. For context, at one point Grog was temporarily transformed into a giant eagle and became smarter (Bailey et al., 2016). It is due to the contrast between Grog’s highest and lowest abilities that makes him an endearing and memorable character. This dichotomy appears juxtaposed between a penalty, typically to

a group of skills, and a benefit, more points to spend on skills and perks. The flaws system is an attempt to enable such contrast to arise in Realms of Màgia, serving as another balance between crunch and fluff, gamist and narrativist agendas.

To support the core mechanic of Realms of Màgia, the specific tasks characters undertake must be categorized for investment during character creation. This categorization, dubbed skills, contains sixty different sets in which a player can invest points. To the uninitiated, sixty skills appears to be a very large number of values for a player to remember, and thus begs the question why to even include so many skills. In the rulebook I included simplification rules to reduce the total from sixty to eight (see “Too Many Skills”), but playing with so few options tends to cause character builds to be repeated, resulting in less variation, taking control away from the players, and reducing their motivation to play the game (in contrast to goal no. 1). It is a challenge to balance what is too many options, overwhelming players, and what is too few, boring players. To solve this issue, I reviewed the number of variables a player has to keep track of in a number of roleplaying games of similar intensity and origin (Open Game License games). Variable in this sense refers to any numeric value required to play the game that is either a modifier to a dice roll or a static value opposing a dice roll. According to my findings (Table 1), the average number of variables a player manages for a single character is 54.5. With this information in mind, sixty skills (variables) no longer appears excessive. Yet in the earlier stages of the design, there were many more skills than the sixty that appear in the current product.

As the system was refined, skills became folded into each other, forming new skills or

taking the responsibility of the omitted. For example, “horsemanship” covers a very niche area of expertise, which is now occupied by the Animals skill. “Potion brewing” and

“basket weaving” are both very specific crafting-related skills that are now part of the

Smithing skill. A number of skills have become catchalls for certain tasks, such as

Conversation covering social interaction of ambiguous nature. With the list of skills consolidated near an industry average, containing all previously considered skill material, combined with probability through DICE, the framework fulfils goal no. 2, possessing the ability to simulate any possible situation within the SIS.

Of course, it is ludicrous to require players to remember all of these stats off the top of their heads, hence the development of a character pamphlet. There are many iconic elements of role-playing games present in popular culture: a group of friends gathered around a table, plastic polyhedral dice tumbling from their hands, but perhaps the most iconic of them all is the character sheet. Character sheets are tools used by players to keep track of the numeric details that form a player character. A common issue encountered by players with these tools is that countless cluttered sheets are required to contain and convey all the information needed. An early attempt at making a character sheet for Realms of Màgia resulted in a three-page format with skills split across multiple pages (as seen in Figures 1 – 3). Such sheets made it difficult for players to track their own information, contrary to goal no. 1. Attempts at solving such an issue usually result in dynamic character sheets, using an online format to collect, organize, and update the data that composes a character in real time. While some users are comfortable using a

dynamic character sheet, dynamic sheets pose their own issues, often due to the myriad of distractions housed in the internet. The game master would prefer that the players focus on the game on which they spent time and effort rather than scrolling through social media. Additionally, a reliance on digital technologies may isolate a portion of the audience of the game who has limited internet access. Thus, a character sheet that balances the needs of the player with the needs of the game master must be accessible outside of the digital realm.

To solve these issues, a material, pocket-sized character sheet pamphlet has been developed. Due to it being composed of an 8.5”x11” sheet of printer paper, the majority of players will have the resources required to print or copy their own character pamphlets. The use of a pamphlet enables players to have the needed information organized by page in a single document so that the sheer amount of information is not overwhelming and cannot be lost individually.

The character pamphlet was designed to be accessible to an audience regardless of their financial situation: 8x5”x11” is commonplace, as are printers and copiers. Without this starting point, the design would be isolating its audience, contradictory to its own purpose. The development of the character pamphlet was shaped by the process of character creation. The prototype of the pamphlet begins with the basic information determined in the first steps of character creation (Figure 4), progressing to minutia later in the document (Figure 5). However, just one side was not enough to contain space for

all the necessary information, such as a complete listing of all sixty skills and modifier computation space, so the document became double-sided. With a slit cut in the center of the sheet, the pamphlet became reversible, doubling the amount of space previously available, allowing for an appropriate space for the essential skills to live, as seen roughly prototyped in Figure 6. The separation into smaller pages managed by tactile interaction enables players to enjoy the game without being bogged down by distractions and overwhelmed by content, adding to the fulfilment of goal no. 1 in addition to solving the character sheet dilemma.

Establishing context in which the players are comfortable interacting with the SIS is not only supported by the ease of the character pamphlet, but also by familiar tropes and mechanics within the game itself. Aside from character archetypes that permeate our media, the most obvious examples of these may totems and perks. Totems are a means of improving a character’s prowess in a particular discipline. However, unlike other mechanics, a player cannot change their totem. This restriction appears to contrast with multiclassing and perks, which allow players to customize when in their character’s career they learn completely new abilities. This restriction is due to the origins of the totem mechanic. In many massive multiplayer online roleplaying games (MMORPGs) such as World of Warcraft, players select a role they wish to embody and they progress solely through the ranks, inevitably becoming hyperspecialized. This direct pathway when applied to a multiclass system serves as a set of skills on which the character can always rely, regardless of how complex or muddled their character progression becomes.

Totems also draw inspiration from skill trees in open world games such as The Elder

Scrolls V: Skyrim. Skill trees are hierarchical systems within games that plan or dictate a character’s advancement; totems perform the same task albeit, only for a specific playstyle or character element. Totems have prerequisites as a means of confirming with the player that they are confident in their character choices. Totems, much as their name suggests, are reminders of a choice the player made early at sixth level, allowing the player to always have a strong set of abilities to fall back on in times of need. This strong core mirrors its video game counterparts, which serve as yet another attempt to introduce modern game elements to a pen-and-paper context to encourage use by new players.

Having introduced a number of players to a number of Open Game License roleplaying games, in my observations there is a trend of both new and seasoned players experiencing difficulty with the combat systems (action economies) of those games at some point.

Most games of this family are of a modular action economy, meaning that a character’s turn is composed of two to four abstract actions that can only be used for specific tasks.

For example, in Dungeons & Dragons third revised edition and Pathfinder, the standard action is used for generally complex tasks such as attacking or activating an item, but not for rapid reactions. Most commonly players will forget what they can do with which actions, resulting in confusion and possible anger. To prevent this confusion, the action economy in Realms of Màgia is organized differently. Once order has been determined, players must decide how they react to the context of combat on their turn through spending moments, ten identical abstract units of time that are exchanged for action.

Typically, the more complex an action the more moments it uses, such as the powerful

Sever maneuver requiring all ten moments of the characters turn. Based upon the information gathered through testing, new players find the moment system to be intuitive, and seasoned players find it cinematic. The moment system has shown success in fulfilling narrativist creative agendas, as well as retaining enough modularity to coexist with gamist creative agendas.

In the roleplaying community, the terms by which games describe their mechanics tend to be homogenous regardless of genre. There is a consistency in how games refer to the number of sides a die has or how characters defend themselves against an unexpected threat. I would argue that this repetitive use of language creates the illusion that all roleplaying games are the same. This is obviously false, but it can detract from experiencing a new game if its words feel like all the others.

Unlike other games, the language used in Realms of Màgia is designed to straddle the line between being familiar to the audience (both new players and genre veterans) and being new (thus being explorable, activating the simulationist creative agenda). For example, phrases like ability check, saving throw, and hit points are eschewed for attempt, defense skills, and pain resistance. These terms represent similar concepts albeit within a different game framework, but they carry the same gravitas as their traditional counterparts. A user familiar with roleplaying games would be able to intuit what these terms mean, while a

new player would simply experience the game with these terms, understanding what they mean as they play the game and read the text.

In continuation of my goal of making a roleplaying game accessible to all, I must take into consideration the complexity of my interface. For some players, the sheer amount of detail included in the text and required by the character pamphlet may be intimidating. In anticipation of this conundrum, Realms of Màgia has been designed to be deconstructed if required by the players. Each element made during the creative process was designed with this nature in mind, supporting a gamist creative agenda while its removal would still allow for the function of the game. The Simplification section of the text focuses on reductive methods of play to provide options to Narrators and players who wish to have a less verbose and mechanically simpler roleplaying experience. These modes of play are just as valid as the original system, as it is not about which version is played, but rather that people are enjoying themselves within the context of the game. If totems, perks, and backgrounds are not conducive to a group’s creative agenda, there is no reason to keep them within the framework. Not only should the framework change for the players, it should be able to be customized. The use of the system is dependent upon the user, their needs, and creative agenda, thus if they wish to include homebrew content of their own making, the system will oblige. This flexibility (fulfilling goal no. 4) is necessary for facilitating future unexpected iterations made by users rather than the designer (fulfilling goal no. 6).

Regardless of the style, genre, or setting, Realms of Màgia is successful just so long as it can be used to tell a story. I have no control over the story and that is the way it should be. Realms of Màgia is simply a tool for groups of people to convey their own narratives as they see fit.

MEANING AND APPLICATION

What is born from the use of a context and supporting interface in which players are motivated to participate? I find that such a context in the form of a SIS is a stage for a player’s creative acts, simultaneously public and nuanced, as well as an open forum for response. Dadaist Marcel Duchamp once said, “The creative act is not performed by the artist alone; the spectator brings the work in contact with the external world by deciphering and interpreting its inner qualification and thus adds his contribution to the creative act” (Duchamp, 1959, as cited in Carroll, 2014). This act of deciphering is essential to the comprehension of a game’s framework. To behave within the context, there must be understanding; without understanding, there cannot be the narrative. In application of Duchamp’s words, the players of the game are artists, playwrights composing a narrative, but are simultaneously the audience, making the work cooperative and accessible, while examining and critiquing the work as it is being created. Game concepts such as class or species cannot exist in a vacuum, as their application in the form of characters exist within the context of the SIS. Since the SIS is composed of the preexisting knowledge and biases of the users, all participants have creative influence over the final product, motivating each other to continue the narrative. With roleplaying games increasing in popularity, it is important that the genre of games becomes accessible to anyone, regardless of prior experience, so that they may become grand storytellers and forge meaningful friendships. Roleplaying games are not just about slaying monsters or collecting treasure, they serve as gateways into the minds of others,

sharing thoughts and solving problems together. The bringing together of people is perhaps the most powerful thing a roleplaying game can do, and it is certainly a thing worth sharing. In summation, Realms of Màgia, like its predecessors, is a means by which users can make their own art together, engaging in simultaneous adventure that would otherwise be literally unimaginable.

After reading the contents of this game, it is easy to see the influence of the games that precede it, or even go so far as to say this it is an updated version of many beloved games, and that is a fair criticism. People have the same criticism of Pathfinder when it was first released. However, this criticism is nothing new. Pathfinder built upon D&D third revised edition, third revised built upon third edition, and so on. Jason Bulmahn, lead designer for Pathfinder, made great strides in game design and was and is praised by his predecessors and those who follow in his footsteps. Monte Cook, designer for third edition, wrote that “Pathfinder Roleplaying Game carries on [the] same tradition as the next step in the progression. Now that might seem inappropriate, controversial, or even a little blasphemous, but it’s still true” (Bulmahn & Cook, 2009, p. 4). I for one, am willing to face such comments in my own quest for accessible roleplaying games, and I welcome the chain of tradition claiming as Pathfinder is to D&D, Realms of Màgia is to

Pathfinder.

FUTURE ITERATIONS

When a roleplaying game garners success, awareness in the public eye, or even a niche following, supplementary material is bound to follow. In future iterations of Realms of

Màgia, more perks, totems, and classes will be developed to meet a wide variety of different playstyles while within the context of the fantasy genre. In the original development of this thesis, there were twenty classes. Having realized the complexity of the system, this number was reduced to seven. In future editions of the game, the other thirteen class concepts will be explored. As the name of the game and its fantasy setting is the Realms of Màgia, it is logical to add magically-inclined characters, such as

Wizards, Witches, Animists (nature magic-users), and Nairabrabs (reverse barbarian- esque characters, growing stronger mentally for short periods of time, in contrast to the

Berserker class and their Fury ability). Magic is a quintessential element of the fantasy genre, so it would be remiss to eschew the topic completely, especially since groundwork has been laid in this iteration for magic, as seen by the Black Magic, White Magic, and

Spell Analysis skills.

However, implementing magic into the game poses a number of challenges. The greatest of these concerns is that in many roleplaying games developed since the early 2000s, magic-users become far more powerful than any other class, particularly martial classes, after reaching the middle of their class progression. This phenomenon is frequently referred to as linear fighters and quadratic wizards (Carr, 2012). This phenomenon occurs

primarily in Vancian casting systems, where spellcasters prepare specific spells in advance for a finite number of uses. While this methodology appears restrictive, keeping such characters on par with other classes who must prepare their own effects (such as

Bombardiers), these “quadratic wizards” often have a larger repertoire of spells from which to choose, such as D&D 3.5’s massive library of over 2400 spells for their wizard class alone. As a result, magic in future iterations would likely take a form similar to a

Bombardier’s bomb effects.

Other classes to include in future iterations will be more tightly connected to the setting of the Realms, such as Wildmyths, Shadowbenders, and Smiths. As the Realms of Màgia are populated by creatures of all shapes and sizes, it is possible that some mortals, elves, dwarrow, or the like would learn to channel the power of the monsters roaming the lands.

This class would be similar in power to the Expert, selecting monstrous powers from a list, essentially turning themselves into a cryptid. Which powers a Wildmyth selects will determine their role in a party, be it a defensive wall, preventing foes from approaching with a basilisk’s paralyzing stare, or a speedy scout, channeling the illusory abilities of a doppelgänger. Shadowbenders would connect to the history of the Realms, rather than the ecology. This class would have first arisen from a cult called va Zhade (Elven for “The

Nightfall”), a literal shadowy organization that learned how to warp the absence of light to their will. While va Zhade would be disbanded before the most recent era, the New

Peace, the craft they learned would still be in practice: shadow sorcery. The

Shadowbender class would be similar to the Bombardier in that they would create their

shadows at the beginning of each day, but instead of making damaging explosives,

Shadowbenders would create illusions, hindering effects, and at higher levels, temporary shadowy allies. The Smith class would be able to create magical items, including the ones printed in the current edition of the game. The descriptions of magical items would be updated to include oppositions for smith characters to attempt against with the appropriate specialization of the Smithing skill.

Future iterations of the game will also include greater delves into the setting itself.

Existing rules regarding creature creation will be expanded to create a bestiary of creatures to combat and encounter, such as chimeras, changelings, and whatever other beasts were alluded to within the text. Further development of the setting could also come in the form of a series of guide books exploring each country and their culture. For example, the brief text about elves does not explore the history of their monarchy, originally being a High Elf dominant society, with the Woodland sects growing larger and marrying into the crown. The Elven language would also be explored in future iterations, delving into their base-eleven numeric system, the genderless nature of their language and cultural perceptions, culminating in a constructed language phrasebook for players to immerse themselves in the setting.

Realms of Màgia is expanding, but adding lore and content is not what makes it grow.

The imaginative and recontextualizing use of the framework by players, both new and

returning, is what fosters further development. I may have designed the system, but it is the use that makes it a living document.

REFERENCES

Arielle, K., Bailey, L., Carr, D., Forrest, B., Friedle, W., Jaffe, T., Johnson, A., Lockey,

C., McGlynn, M. E., Mercer, M., Montano, S., O'Brien, L., Ray, M., Riegel, S.,

Seeley, R., Willingham, T. (2019). Handbooker Helper. Retrieved from

https://critrole.com/filter/handbooker-helper/

Bailey, L., Jaffe, T., Johnson, A., Mercer, M., O'Brien, L., Perkins, C., Ray, M.,

Willingham, T. (2016, July 21). Umbrasyl | Critical Role RPG Show Episode 55.

Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A6ma5W_TSDE

Bigbee, D. (2018, June 12). The Orr Group Industry Report - Q1 2018. Roll20. Retrieved

from http://blog.roll20.net/post/174833007355/the-orr-group-industry-report-q1-

2018

Bulmahn, J., & Cook, M. (2009). Pathfinder Roleplaying Game: Core Rulebook.

Redmond, WA: PAIZO Publishing, LLC.

Carr, N. (2012). Linear Fighters vs. Quadratic Wizards. Retrieved from

http://www.geekindustrialcomplex.com/articles/linear-fighters-vs-quadratic-

wizards

Carroll, N. (2014). The Creative Audience: Some Ways in which Readers, Viewers,

and/or Listeners Use Their Imaginations to Engage Fictional Artworks. In E. S.

Paul & S. B. Kaufman (Eds.), The Philosophy of Creativity (62-81).

Dancey, R. S. (2004). The Most Dangerous Column in Gaming Open Gaming Interview

with Ryan Dancey. Retrieved from

http://www.wizards.com/dnd/article.asp?x=dnd/md/md20020228e

Diaconis, P., & Keller, J. B. (1989, April). Fair Dice. The American Mathematical

Monthly, 96(4), 337-339.

Edwards, R. (2001, October 14). GNS and Other Matters of Role-playing Theory.

Retrieved from http://www.indie-rpgs.com/articles/1/

Edwards, R., Baker, V., Care Boss, E., Samson, S., Stauffer, J., & Mazz, R. (2004). The

Provisional Glossary. Retrieved from http://indie-rpgs.com/_articles/glossary.html

Hall, C. (2017, July 20). More people are playing D&D online than ever before. Polygon.

Retrieved from https://www.polygon.com/2017/7/20/16005982/dungeons-and-

dragons-online-roll20-data

McElroy, G., & McElroy, J. (2015, November 12). Monster Factory: Fallout 4 - Episode

1. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_1jGnFt78H8

Weiss, J. (2018, March 14). Dungeons & Dragons had its biggest sales year in 2017.

Retrieved from https://www.syfy.com/syfywire/dungeons-dragons-biggest-sales-

year-2017

Whitman, W. (1892). Prose Works. Philadelphia.

FIGURES

Figure 1. Character Sheet Attempt Page 1

Figure 2. Character Sheet Attempt Page 2

Figure 3. Character Sheet Attempt Page 3

Figure 4. Character Pamphlet Prototype Interior 1

Figure 5. Character Pamphlet Prototype Interior 2

Figure 6. Character Pamphlet Prototype Skills Interior

TABLES

Table 1

Number of Variables Required for Play by Open Game License Roleplaying Games

Title Skills Defenses Offenses Misc. Total

Dungeons & Dragons 45 6 5+ 9+ 65+ Third Revised Ed.

Mutants & Masterminds: 29 6 2 19+ 56+ Second Ed.

Pathfinder Roleplaying Game 35 7 2+ 9+ 53+

Starfinder 20 5 3+ 16+ 44+

+ signifies that more values can be ascribed to the corresponding column, but the minimum value is listed.