Monday, December 13, 2010

This is Character Creation

This is Character Creation

Roll four six-sided dice. Take the three highest numbers and add them together, and write that amount down. Repeat this process six more times. Throw out the lowest number. The remaining six are your ability scores: strength, dexterity, constitution, intelligence, wisdom, and charisma. These scores will modify every action in the game; they will define how good a character is at what he does. This is the first step of character creation.

Gaming, especially the role-playing kind, has become one of the rituals of my life. In high school, it ruled every Friday afternoon from the time school ended until perhaps seven in the evening. For those four hours each week, we pretended to be all kinds of different people. It was where I met my closest friends in high school, which is interesting because we forged our friendships not as ourselves but as a variety of characters.
Actually, thinking back on it, my love of playing someone else began earlier. As children, my sisters and I invented our own games. We made the rules, and adapted them as we saw fit. We even game our games names: “Magic People” was a game where we each picked an object – a broom, a snow globe, a strange little sandstone pyramid paperweight – and that was the source of our magical powers. For this game, the porch was a castle keep, the sidewalk and the walkway to the house were river and moat, and the pieces of shale that crossed the lawn were small islands. The garden on the side of the house was the jungle, tiger lilies on one side and dogwood on the other, both overgrown, overreaching the path to the backyard. The side of the house required slightly less imagination. We would jump around and go on adventures, holding our magic in our hands, from the safety of our front lawn.

“You can sense that the dead paladin’s soul is trapped within that well of darkness,” Bob tells me. Bob is the DM for this session. He just threw a small horde of zombies at our party, and one of our members died in the battle. He was a paladin; paladin’s are the game’s most righteous defenders of law and good. They are required by their beliefs to attack all evil wherever they find it. To this end, they have many abilities that enhance their defenses, but the sheer number of zombies was too much, and this poor paladin died doing his duty.
“Is it true?” Fred’s character is asking me this, because as a cleric of his order he has put his faith in me. “Does my brother’s soul remain trapped here?” He looks at me for an answer.

After generating ability scores, pick which class the character will start out having. This choice is as important, if not more so, than the ability scores themselves, because most of the abilities a character has come from the options provided by his class. A rogue has a moderate attack bonus, prefers skills that allow her to move around the battlefield without drawing attacks, and deals extra damage when she can stab an enemy (or friend) from behind. She battles with her high dexterity and intelligence, picking her targets carefully. The barbarian has a good attack bonus, many hit points, and ability to enter a rage to gain even more strength and hit points; he rushes in swinging. Barbarians favor strength and constitution, the hallmarks of physical classes. The arcane casters – wizards, sorcerers, bards – need high scores in intelligence or charisma. They stand back from the main battle, using spells to benefit their allies and attack their enemies. Clerics rely on wisdom and heavy armor, can heal, and have a moderate attack bonus. Clerics can play almost any role they want, but usually they act as their deity prefers.

As I said, I’m a cleric, a member of the paladin’s religious order. Normally, a party member’s death casts a pall over the group, but this is different. This death was worse because Abi and Fred, two players, had decided that their characters, both paladins, would be brothers. Now Abi’s character is dead, and Fred’s character is especially bereft. What makes it worse is that a particularly powerful being controls this massive cemetery, and he has somehow prevented the dead paladin’s soul from reaching its final reward. And now I know.
I think about this. The evil guy on the throne, probably some kind of undead himself, has offered to trade the dead paladin’s soul for the living paladin’s, and Fred is just the sort of player who would accept that offer for his dead brother’s sake. But that wouldn’t really serve the party, and we’re going to have to fight the evil guy anyway. So what do I do?

Thinking back, I don’t remember being particularly unsatisfied with my childhood. I think I played these games, which despite an inability to modify the characters, are still role-playing games, out of simple enjoyment. They were easy to love. The character has a well-defined quest to complete, usually before a great evil takes over the world, and a sword and other tools with which to complete that quest. Along the way are numerous baddies trying to stop him, which the hero can defeat with a little deduction and practice.
Such easily defined goals had immense appeal to me. As I got older, and began to interact with my classmates at a more adult level, I began to realize that there were things that were different about the way I viewed things. I was raised in a religious household, and the restrictive views of my parents and church kept me from many of the things that could have formed the basis for forming friendships. I had never been allowed to participate in sports activities, for example, because these were usually held on weekends, and I would not have been able to miss church on Sunday mornings. Or Sunday nights, for that matter. Or any of the other times that my parents felt that a child should be there, participating in church activities. Not being able to discuss sports presented a real roadblock to popularity, and so I felt apart. There were other reasons as well, that would become even more significant as I got older, but those were not apparent yet. At least, not to me.
The social challenges were beyond me at this stage; however, where I lacked skill in the actual world, I was still able to overcome challenges and finish quests in the virtual worlds. These virtual worlds became even more of a draw for me, and I remember spending hours playing the original Final Fantasy, Dragon Warrior, and Crystalis games for the Nintendo. Super Nintendo brought me gems such as Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past, the Secret of Mana, and Final Fantasy II (or IV for purists), which is still one of my all-time favorites. Games like these helped me through some awkward transitional years. I had questions about sexuality, what mine was, and whether it fit in with both popular opinion and religious belief. I didn’t like the thought that I might be different, and turned to video games as a means of avoiding, or at least postponing the questions.

In the game, I’m trying to postpone a different question. “You know where your brother’s soul would go when he died. Why do you believe the evil words of this fiend?” Or something like that. I’m trying to remain true to my character, but I have ulterior motives. We all do. And this is a classic Bob-style moral dilemma, so naturally there is no simple solution.

Choose your feats and assign your skill points next. Feats are abilities that enhance or specialize other class abilities. They allow characters to attack more frequently, give them ways to avoid damage, or allow them to change the way a spell effect goes off. If you’re ever unsure, a good first choice is Dodge, which gives a one point bonus to Armor Class. That is useful for any class; no one wants to get hit by an attack. After that, it’s best to choose feats that enhance the way you prefer to play.
Skills are things the character has learned over the course of her training and adventuring. Some skills are various types of knowledge: religion, history, arcana, etc. These skills are modified by the mental stats, intelligence mainly. Having one of these at the right moment can get a party moving in the right direction or tell them something that they could never otherwise find out. Other skills are physical: acrobatics, climb, stealth, swimming. These skills rely on the physical stats, usually dexterity or strength. Not having one of these when a character needs it can mean death. While having a good score in the appropriate ability can help, a balanced distribution of skill points is essential to a character’s success as an adventurer. Adventurers who haven’t thought out their skill selection end up stumbling around waiting for somebody to come along and help them, slowing down a party immeasurably.

My real problem began when I got out of high school. The people with whom I had been playing went off to college, and I stayed local, and then started working. Somewhere along the way I stopped playing games. I stopped role-playing because I couldn’t find a group of people to play with, and I stopped playing video games because I was working and trying to save money for school. I don’t want to give the impression that I was alone and lonesome; I had friends, and an entirely too active social life. But it was a life that I absorbed from the friends I was hanging around with at the time. I went clubbing frequently, and as one of my best friends loved movies passionately, I saw almost every movie that came out in theaters.
The closest I got to role-playing during this period was seeing the Dungeons & Dragons movie in theaters, and that was a less than stellar experience. Two of my friends left in the middle of it, and another fell asleep. I couldn’t exactly blame them; it was not a well-crafted movie. Still, I noticed the little things that were clever or well done, like the beholder. It was a moment of realization for me: this group of people couldn’t understand where I had come from, or what I really enjoyed.
It took a long time for me to realize that I wasn’t happy. I am somewhat ashamed to say I took it out on my friends in ways I didn’t even realize were unhappiness. Looking back at this time, I realize that I didn’t really have anything in common with the particular group of people. I didn’t listen to the same music they did. They weren’t big readers like I was. I had some common ground with video games, but only with a few of them, and none at all really with my “best” friend. I wonder now if I was myself at all with them. I think this is also when I started having outbursts and mood swings, which turned out to be signs of a larger problem than I realized at first. My relationships grew strained, and then, out of convenience and mutual desire, ended.

After assigning skills, find out how much gold you start with, and then go shopping. Equipment is a character’s lifeblood. Characters purchase their starting weapons and armor, and then pick up more as they quest around their world. The search for obscure or powerful equipment can drive entire storylines. For a starting character, the class determines what types of armor and weapons may be equipped. Fighters may use any weapon and armor: bastard sword, large shield, scale mail. Rogues favor light armors and fast, light weapons: leather armor, dagger, short sword. Clerics may not use edged weapons unless their deity specifically allows it, but are not restricted in armor: heavy mace, plate armor. The arcane casters, wizards and sorcerers, may not use any armor; it interferes with their delicate casting. Their long training in magic has kept them from learning to wield weapons, so they may use only the most simple. If you’re the wizard, you wear clothes, you buy a dagger, and you hope you never need to use it.
Pick up some utility equipment too: A backpack, a bedroll, torches, flint and steel, trail rations, a waterskin, and rope. Always, always buy some rope. It’s my cardinal rule. The rest is up to personal preference, but these are things no adventurer should ever be without. After all, his equipment is an adventurer’s best friend.

In the game, Fred, Tom, Ivan, and Bob are staring at me as I try to figure out the right way to answer this question. It’s amazing how much of an effect my next few lines of dialogue will have on the way this entire segment of the adventure plays out. We’re talking about character death here. I know I can’t lie outright; I am a cleric of a good deity, who would frown on such a tactic. Still, there must be something I can do to get around the whole truth.
“Brother Cleric,” Fred says quietly, “do not delay. If my brother’s soul is indeed trapped here, I must do what I can to free him.” As a player, he knows. He was at the table when Bob told me what I found out. It’s a testament to his willingness to role-play that he is drawing this out. His actions will be based not on the truth, but on what I say.
I look at Tom. Tom is the rogue in this endeavor. Actually, Tom is the rogue pretty much all the time, even when he’s not technically playing one, and even when we’re not playing a game, for that matter. But here he’s not even trying to play against type. He meets my eye, and I can see he knows that we’re going to end up fighting regardless. Ivan, the other cleric, is already thinking about what spells to cast in what order. Fred knows that we need to defeat Evil Guy, but he is a good role-player; if I tell him the whole truth, Fred’s character will give himself to Evil Guy, and we’ll pretty much be sunk. Two clerics and a rogue might be able to take down a powerful, evil undead, but it’s much easier with a paladin to engage it directly.

There came a period when I wasn’t really hanging out with anyone. By merest chance, this period of exile ended at work one day when a coworker noticed me reading through a role-playing game manual that had come in. I hadn’t played anything in years, and in the time I had been away the game had changed greatly. I don’t even remember why I was reading this particular manual. I think it was simply to have something to read on a break. My coworker noticed and asked me if I played, and I replied that I had in high school. From then on, she tried on numerous occasions to get met o come over to her gaming group. For whatever reason, I resisted, until a particular event made the offer too convenient to ignore.
In many ways, I owe my current group of friends to J.K. Rowling and her “Harry Potter” books. I was managing a bookstore, and the release of the fifth book meant that I had to work all weekend, instead of having Sundays off as I normally would. Sundays were when this particular gaming group met to play, and as I was going to be in the area anyway, I said I would come by to meet everyone. And I did. And I kept coming, and have almost every Sunday since.
This group of people was a revelation in many ways. They were adults, raised largely in an urban area, and as capable of navigating their actual environment as they were the imagined environments we shared. They weren’t socially inept or introverted; they didn’t stay holed up in their rooms unless they wanted to be. They accepted my not just because of my interest in playing, but because that is the kind of people they are, and we’ve grown together over the last seven years or so.

The last step is to give yourself a name, a physical description, and an alignment. Alignment indicates whether you are good or evil, lawful or chaotic. Do you follow the law of the land or the ideals of a religious belief? Do you do what you want regardless of the consequences? Do you want people to smile at your name, or would you prefer they run in fear at the sound? Your alignment is the way you live your life. The choices you make for your character should be made with your alignment in mind.

In the game, I’m Neutral Good. I have a little wiggle room there. Being “Good” on the moral axis means that I cannot take evil actions. I must not cause undue pain or torture, attack people who don’t deserve it, steal candy from babies, kick old ladies in the street, etc. On the ethical axis, I am “Neutral”. This means that I can take either “Lawful” or “Chaotic” actions so long as I strive for balance. Were I “Lawful” I would have to tell the truth, the whole truth, so help me whichever deity I follow. But a little white lie here seems appropriate, as it will allow us the opportunity to attack the evil guy and free this area from his influence. And that’s an overall good act. Or at least that’s what I tell myself.
Tom’s character has his daggers out. Ivan has decided on his spells. Fred is still waiting for me to decide his character’s fate.
I end up answering with a question of my own, one that plays on the paladin’s pride and faith. “Do you think this creature’s evil is powerful enough to bar a holy paladin’s soul from communion with his deity? Have faith in the power of Pelor, brother paladin.” My character walks over to him and says a prayer, and that prayer just happens to be a spell of Protection from Evil, which I know Fred’s character will need. Fred’s character tells Evil Guy that he will not accept the deal. With that, Evil Guy attacks, and the battle begins.

This is a part of my new gaming ritual; the Sunday evening gaming that started before I met this group, and will hopefully continue for as long as we all enjoy gaming. For four hours every Sunday evening, we pretend to be powerful spell caster, daring warrior, and skillful rogues. Well, generally we leave the rogue to Tom. I am comfortable here. I know that Wilson will always go for the toughest thing on the board first. I can count on Tom to pick his targets wisely, and on Frank not to. I know that if I need to cast and Tom or Wilson are in the area of effect, it’s okay, they don’t mind being brought back to life later. Though our alignments might be slightly different, we form a good party, in gaming and in life.

No comments:

Post a Comment