The Blog of Roon

This week’s Game WISH is a universal problem: how do you handle a character whose abilities are a severe mismatch with yours?

Obviously, if it’s governed purely by the dice, it doesn’t matter that much. I couldn’t lug a hundred-pound pack around for days at a time, but my character might be able to. No problem there. (Actually, come to think of it, I don’t think many of my current characters could either. Juskinah, and, er, I think that’s all.)

The issues arise with intellectual, emotional, and social attributes and skills. Intelligence. Wisdom. Charisma. Bribery, diplomacy, intimidation, and so on.

I hesitate to offer the “only play characters within your own abilities” solution. It’s too limiting. Part of the point of RPGing is to get outside yourself.

When the problem is that a character’s stat or skill is too low for easy playing, my solution is to be as specific as possible about why and how that skill is low. Rat’s lousy Charisma stems from two root causes: being the size of a child and therefore easy to ignore, and a tendency not to think about her mode of expression before speaking. She isn’t otherwise hateful or noisome, which gives me plenty of room to play her without feeling hemmed in by the Charisma score.

When the problem is that the character is enormously more talented than I in some area—I don’t GM, but if I did I think my rule would be “you have to try.” If your character can swindle a baby away from its parent, you’re going to have to play out a couple of attempted cons. Sure, the GM should help a bit when a player gets into difficulties that the character presumably wouldn’t—but pointing to a stat on a piece of paper and saying “I win, ’cuz my character has twelve ranks in Bluff” is boring, boring, boring roleplaying.

Again, I think it helps to be specific about a character’s traits and skillset, particularly with the broader trait scores. Shams’s high Intelligence score derives from a phenomenal memory and verbal talent, not from book-learning. Afletana’s high Wisdom points at a talent for figuring out others, but doesn’t preclude a lamentable blindness about her own sweet self.

A consistent, pulled-together character is important. “Grab-bag” characters with strengths in all the useful stats and weaknesses where they don’t matter ought to get a serious fisheye from a discerning GM. If the player can’t provide a context for—or worse, flatly refuses to roleplay appropriately—the super-useful stuff, I see no problem with the GM simply disallowing it. Spend the points elsewhere.

When I slip, in either direction, I appreciate a hard look and an “Are you sure?” from the GM. The GMs I have known could in general do a lot more to promote roleplaying than they do. Unfortunately, they have so much to deal with that it’s easy for them to let players get lazy.

This week’s Grand Ellipse doings have been posted to the London Times and Ellipsoids pages. Good old straight-arrow Shirley (who is, between you and me, a bit of a prig, though a generally decent one) warned the other competitors about foul play via an interview with the Times.

It’s worth noting that the Ellipse contains (at least) two characters who are clearly caricature. As one of them is being played by my husband, I hesitate to comment on the desirability or suitability of such caricature to gaming, but I will note that I’m not in the least grunched by Lord Longsworth-Brunfondle (whom I cannot resist calling “Vroomfondel”). I know perfectly well he isn’t intended to be either serious or sympathetic.

(I’m not at all sure I believe his claim to have been party to the attempted attack on Shirley, though Shirley will certainly keep an eye out for him once he reads the Times piece. “Ha! Sue!” Shirley will expostulate. “Sue a barrister? Idiot.” I think somebody outside the Ellipse has a hefty wager on it, myself, and wanted to hedge the bet. We shall see. I should like to know on whom the bet was laid. Not surprised it wasn’t Shirley.)

So did Neville-Smythe boff the Countess? Or vice versa? Inquiring minds want to know.