Part
1: Whats in a name?
What is a Role Playing Game? This seems like the best place to start. Warren Spector
offers:
RPG is a game in which character development and character interaction take precedence
over other factors and where each player's experience of the story is determined by
individual choice rather than designer fiat . . . Of greatest importance, this definition
eliminates adventure games, which share with the RPG an emphasis on story and character.
What adventure games lack - and this is a critical point - is the capability for players
to grow and develop their characters, and to affect, if not the outcome of the story, than
the way in which the story unfolds. Without both character development and genuine choices
placed within a player's control, a game cannot be called a role-playing game, as I choose
to define the genre (Remodeling 1).
Spectors definition is suitable for my purposes, with the exception of the last
line which I am forced to take issue with. With regard to consoles at least, the take is a
bit too Romantic; it is telling us more what the genre could be than what it is. If we
grant that no game can be an RPG without genuine choice then we must disqualify the bulk
of the console RPG line-up. Let us say rather that RPGs offer either the illusion of
choice where none exists, or at least the illusion of a meaningful choice when any
decision has the same outcome as any of the other options. What separates RPGs from
action games are the advancement or development of characters in one way or another, and
the inclusion of RPG conventions whose very presence defines the game as an RPG. Yet now I
see weve gone too far forward too quickly and missed much of what an RPG is. To be
accurate we should back up to the days of twenty sided dice, encrypted scribbles on
volumes of paper, and a modest library of rule books, but backing up this far would keep
this paper off its focus for quite some time. So instead I will once again move forward
and focus on the recent evolution of console RPGs, how this latest generation came
to be, what it is made out of, and why it has failed.
Part II: This place, this day
Some people say that it is tough to argue with success. This is certainly the mantra of
todays console programmers. Console role-playing games are among the most successful
games on the market. Squaresofts Final Fantasy series leads the charge, having sold
an astonishing thirty million copies since its inception. It has spawned a loyal (some
would say fanatical) following of fans not only willing but eager to stand in line and
shell out fifty dollars each to experience the next Final Fantasy. Within the industry it
is widely acknowledged that Squaresofts initial offering on the PlayStation, Final
Fantasy VII, contributed greatly to Sonys overwhelming commercial success. It became
the showcase of the system; in gaming conversations it was cited as an example of what the
PlayStation could do and the competition could not as often as it was discussed for its
own merits. It set the bar, not just for the PSX, but for the console market as a whole.
With the success of Final Fantasy VII, Squaresoft had defined the terms and
expectations for that generation of RPGs. The competition followed en masse,
but with surprisingly little innovation. Square itself settled into the tried and true
routine. It made use of console RPG conventions as old as the games themselves and tried
to perfect them. Indeed this is tactic of the industry itself; the overwhelming focus on
console RPGs is to do the same things that worked last timeonly do them
better.
If commercial success is our gauge, then Squaresoft, in fact the industry as a whole,
is beyond reproach. Yet even the casual observer can note the striking unorigionality of
RPGs. By contrast, the formulaic narrative structure of role playing games allows
the modern romance novel to bask in the radiant glow of its own originality. The genre has
become one organized around, even based upon, simplistic and limiting conventions. That is
to say, while any medium may employ conventions as part of its structure, the RPG defines
itself by these conventions and does so unnecessarily. The RPG genre has been much praised
for its originality and deep stories. In regard to the stories, this praise is
particularly misplaced and serves only to reinforce the perceived quality of narratives
undeserving of the praise. The success of these games, and therefore the narratives,
should not be seen as an endorsement. Give the people what they want is surely the
rebuttal. Commercial success in no way implies even that the gaming audience is being
given what they want. It simply defines what they are willing to settle for.
In a recent interview Hironobu Sakagughi, president of Square USA, expressed a
surprising frankness about the failings of the genre he has played a critical role in
defining. When asked what was lacking with todays console and PC games he answered,
"There are many factors lacking in todays games. They range from the
constraints of the hardware itself to problems stemming from the network or user
interface. Of course, the story, characters, and world settings arent being given
much thought either" (Design 53).
So whats wrong with RPGs? Heres the short answer: Joe public just
bought the newest of the new role-playing games. The shiny holographic cover promises a
mind blowing cinematic experience coupled with an amazing story. All the critics raved.
Before the disc is in the drive, before the plastic is off the case, before the receipt is
in the bag, what does the gamer know about the game? The answer: everything but the
details (and a few of those).
While obviously not every single RPG will employ every convention, virtually every one
will employ several of them and many will employ all of them. We can divide these
conventions into two basic categories: setting conventions and story telling conventions.
Part III: The Setting
"Its the Economy, Stupid" popular democratic
saying during 1996 presidential election.
Metaphysical conventions are those devices by which the world functions and operates.
The obvious are included such as physics, and advancement, as well as the less obvious
conventions such as geography and the economy.
Advancement is an integral part or RPGs. Far from being a convention that the
genre makes use of, it is a game convention that defines the genre. In RPGs
characters begin relatively weak. Through successive battles, characters gain levels that
allow them to grow stronger, smarter, faster as well as learn the ability to use bigger
and more deadly spells. While it is true that hard work pays off in RPGs, and
advancement is about a hero rising in power in order to confront the bad guy and save the
world; its also kind of strange. This strangeness is exasperated by the fact that it
is nearly identical in every RPG ever created.
As a gamer, I have always wondered why it is that a peasant boy can be chased out of
his village by evil doers and into a forest. While in the forest he fights a series of
battles against oversized chickens. After defeating the chickens he goes up in levels and
returns to the village. This time he routs the evil doers and saves the day, not just
because he was more skilled with his weapon, but because his experience with the chickens
has substantially increased the number of times he can be whacked in the head with a sword
before dying.
Its not my intention to lecture on the suspension of disbelief. Indeed in our
postmodern world, I often wonder whether such a thing is always necessary or even fully
possible. Yet the current system is troublesome for a variety of reasons. It doesnt
make a lot of sense, and its fully predictable. By repeated battles, characters can
grow in power along a relatively smooth grade. Enemies and bosses, however, have fewer
options. Characters can grow so powerful that they undermine the narrative by simply
removing the element of risk. This can even happen on accident. An RPG party that gets
lost in a dungeon may find the diversion an advantage rather than a disadvantage. By the
time the party actually finds the evil zombie dragon, they are so powerful they simply
stomp him into oblivion and proceed on without a second thought.
In large, RPG developers are hesitant to experiment with the current system. Many of
the devices of the genre have evolved, but character advancement sits virtually unchanged
from its paper and dice roots. Yet alternatives have been introduced to the mysterious
"level-up" system. By dropping many of the RPG conventions, many modern games
are finding it simple to include a system of power advancement that is articulated to
greater satisfaction. Shenmue, for example, is a hybrid of classic RPG elements
(minus the conventions) and a standard action game. A classic
avenge-your-fathers-death story, gamers are put into the shoes of Ryo Hazuki, as he
searches for answers and seeks revenge against his fathers killer. Information must
be gathered by talking to and interacting with the people of Yokosuka. Battles are fought
via martial arts action in alleyways, bars, and warehouses. Along the way, Ryo encounters
friends and allies. Some of them teach him new martial arts moves to add into his arsenal.
When next he is forced to put them to use, the battle will proceed much easier. Thus
character advancement is woven elegantly and simply into the narrative. The gamer has a
sense of accomplishment and progress, while the second function of advancement is also
fulfilled; Ryo is prepared to fight more and more dangerous foes. This system fits
Spectors definition of an RPG by virtue of the choices presented to the gamer and
the ability of the character to evolve. Spectors own creation, Deus Ex, is a
similar hybrid design. Players are given a variety of choices that have a significant
impact on how the game unfolds. Characters in the game also advance through a variety of
available technological implants that make the character more powerful. By Spectors
definition, Deus EX is also an RPG. Yet in the mouths of gamers and critics,
neither game is referred to as an RPG. In Spectors "Postmortem: Ion
Storms Deus Ex" he calls his game: "Part immersive simulation, part
role-playing game, part first-person shooter, part adventure game" (1). While many of
the tags are added to properly define all the elements of the game, the inclusion of both
RPG and action game is notable. Spectors definition of RPGs seems to suggest
that the only inherent difference between the two is the presence of the RPG qualities of
advancement and player choice. Yet after fulfilling these criteria, he is hesitant to
simply proclaim Deus Ex an RPG. This hesitation is understandable. In the minds of
the game playing public, the title role playing game invokes images of classic
game conventions as much as it suggests character development and player choice. Shenmue
followed a similar pattern, being referred to as an action/RPG by both critics and
audience. Even if we define RPGs with Spectors suggestions, and most critics
offer similar definitions, the unwillingness to shift our vernacular to encompass this
definition is symptomatic of the fact that we are simply not satisfied with it. Gamers who
had purchased either Shenmue or Deus Ex under the pretext that is was an RPG
would undoubtedly have felt mislead as to the actual contents of the game. This is reason
enough to suspect a definition of RPGs that excludes the necessity of genre
conventions.
To further understand these conventions, we ought also to consider the enormous impact
of geographic and economic conventions on RPG structure. In large part both economic and
geographic conventions are interwoven with the advancement convention to create a
seamless, ludicrous, alliance that is the single greatest defining factor in an RPG. Money
in an RPG setting is plentiful and easy. Monsters always carry vast amounts of gold with
them wherever they go. While I can see why a dragon or even an ork or a goblin might have
gold, why do bugs, giant chickens, and fire elementals always carry around massive amounts
of currency? The stronger the monster, the more money it has. The money is clearly
intended as a reward for defeating the monster. The system is so ingrained in the minds of
gamers that it no longer seems in the least bit odd that this is how the world works--
every single time. You would think at some point a developer would sit back and notice
that if everything the player needed to buy cost less then they wouldnt need to find
giant stacks of gold next to the corpse of every fish, tree or bugbear that the party did
battle with. Money could then be handled in a way that somehow propelled the story forward
or at least added to it. For example, having to find a sunken treasure chest, stealing
something to sell, or taking out a loan with the local knee-breaking con artist. Yet this
is not the case. Money is never a real plot device because players always knows how to get
as much as they want, so long as they take the time. At this point, I seriously doubt that
even developers think their way through these conventions before using them. This is
simply how things are done in a console RPG.
The geographic conventions are a subset of the economic conventions. There arent
a lot of universal truths in our world that can withstand a rigorous cross-examination. In
the universe of the RPG there are many such truths, and this is one of them: no matter
where you are in whatever world you initially find yourself in, the blacksmith closest to
you sucks at making weapons and armor, while the one furthest from you can make a mean set
of plate mail and can craft a sword that will put the fear of god into whatever gets in
the heros way. Why are entire continents composed of weapon and armor makers that
cannot craft anything more solid than leather or more dangerous than a brass knife? The
answer is simple: Its because players have access to limitless amounts of money. If
the first continent were capable of making advanced armor and weapons then players would
have them early in the game, and in so doing would unbalance the story. Instead every town
has a better blacksmith than the one before it, and this blacksmith is able to make
slightly better weapons.
Recently I was playing Final Fantasy IX. While trying to help save one city from
another invading city, which had been encountered earlier in the game, it struck me that
the second city obviously had better trained blacksmiths who could provide equipment
advanced enough to simply slaughter the unfortunate aggressors who happened to be armed
only with bone daggers and leather armor. As it turns out, this was not so. Geographic
conventions apply to characters only. Perhaps my favorite example is found in "Ever
Grace", a sub par RPG launched earlier this year for the PS2. During the
characters exploration of the strange land, they encounter teleportation crystals
that warp them to the safety of the worlds all purpose shop. The equipment available
depended on which crystal the character teleports in from. The desire is simple; keep
characters from having access to weapons and armor that they should not be allowed to have
yet. This could have been accomplished in a thousand different ways. But it wasnt.
Developers, and gamers, have already learned to instinctively dismiss these logical
inconsistencies with respect to how they affect the story. Changing the geographical
convention to the same principle with only one actual store made perfect sense.
Part IV: The Story
"The diseases of the soul are more dangerous and more abundant than
those of the body." --Cicero
RPGs have long been praised for their great stories. The long, narrative driven
structure puts RPGs in an excellent position to invoke innovative, creative, moving
stories. This is rarely, if ever, the case. For the most part RPGs use stock story
structures and attempt only to improve on the telling of that archetype. Recently I
discovered tactical RPGs, a variety of RPG with a signature style of tactical
battles fought on 3D maps. I found them so enjoyable I played all I could find, in rapid
succession. I played: Vandal Hearts I, Vandal Hearts II, Final Fantasy Tactics, and Ogre
Battle Tactics. It was incredible how little variety existed in the stories told. They are
all virtually identical, excepting only names and small details. This is prevalent to
lesser and greater degrees across the entire industry. Virtually all RPGs make use
of some or all of the following story convention presented here:
- The protagonist
- The girl
- Sidekicks
- The betrayal
- The hidden evil
The protagonist is a male. He is marked by an exceptional birth. He may be an orphan,
but at the very least he will have only one parent. Some quality will separate him from
his peers. He has a pure soul, he can draw the sword from the stone, he can cast the
forbidden spell or wield the gem of unworldly might.
The main character will meet up with his soon to be significant other. This will happen
during the first twenty percent of the story, probably a little earlier. This female
character will be a sorceress, a healer, a summoner, or some other sort of spell hurling
heroine. In most cases she will also be marked at birth. Princess sidekicks are the norm,
but some variations exist. The two, while clearly in love, will not confess their feelings
until the game is over.
Additional sidekicks will join our hero. One or two will probably join the party before
the entrance of the significant other. The childhood friend theme is common, but good
natured allies who, early in the narrative, bail the hero out of a jam are also a
possibility. One of the first characters will be the stern, strong, bruiser.
A betrayal will happen eventually count on it. All too often it is by a trusted
member of your party, but occasionally you will instead be betrayed by an NPC. The Final
Fantasy series is particularly renowned for this convention. So much so, that when playing
the new FF I like to try to guess which character will ultimately betray me. (Its
quite often the most unorthodox character). Fortunately, this convention seems to be
declining in popularity. Perhaps it is simply the easiest to see, or maybe it just gets
old quickly.
The bad guy is never quite what you think, and neither is the story. There will be no
Ring to drop in the cracks of doom, no quest visible from the beginning. Instead the story
will unfold and the gamer will realize that the evil king, queen, wizard, duke etc., is
simply a pawn for a far more sinister evil wizard, demon, king, duke, or otherworldly
monstrosity. In all likelihood this process will duplicate itself several times until at
last our hero confronts the puppet master at the root of the current evil. In a recent
review of Final Fantasy VIII published by ZD Net, Andrew Vestal raved about the story,
"The twists and turns the story takes will leave you reeling; at the end of disc
four, you'll laugh at the misconceptions you had about the plot with which you first
began" (1). Is this always a good idea? Im all for twists and turns in the
plot, but there is also something to be said for other methods as well. The overshadowing,
foreshadowing, looming and approaching inevitable darkness of Tolkiens Lord of
the Rings comes to mind. Of course the narrative had twists and turns, but from
relatively early on the reader is invited to anticipate, imagine, and fear the approaching
climax of the story. Had Lord of the Rings been a contemporary RPG, no mention of
Mordor would have been made until the third disc, after all other options of head evil guy
had been exhausted (that is to say, killed).
My intention starting out was to bring attention to RPG conventions, even their
necessity to the genre, in order that they at least be considered by gamers and
developers. Although I believe much of what has happened over the last five or six years,
or what hasnt happened, has hurt the genre, I do not believe the situation is
hopeless. The hybrid RPGs are the most promising prospects by virtue of their
willingness to experiment and omit what is tired or what doesnt work. The
conventional RPGs have a much tougher road ahead, creatively if not commercially. We
have seen a definite improvement in story telling. Characters have become more
sophisticated and developed; even though they are sentenced to wander through archetypal
stories. While fans keep applying pressure for bigger and better things, the industry must
consider the inherent limitations of the traditional RPG. There are many things that they
are simply incapable of doing without first reconceptualizing how the genre is conceived.
New technologies are opening the door, inviting developers to take more risks. If they
accept that challenge, and certainly at least some will, we will see new game structures,
fewer (or different) conventions, and more evolved stories. Others will not take this
chance and will instead try to do what worked last timeonly make it a little bit
better. This will work for awhile. It may even make some people happy for some time to
come. Ultimately, however, as is the way with all such things, those who refuse to evolve
will eventually find themselves left behind, tired, and obsolete.