Rules With Multiple Purposes

One of the great challenges of writing a rulebook is that you’re creating both a teaching tool and a reference work. Most obviously, it teaches players how to play at the beginning, before starting to play. But it’s also going to be referenced over and over to consult these rules while playing the game. So the rulebook, as a whole, serves two purposes in two different contexts.

But even if we put aside the reference aspect, the rules of an RPG serve multiple purposes as a teaching tool. They teach the reader how to play the game, of course, but they can also instruct both players and GMs how the game should or can be played.

When you read the rules of a board game, you’re learning the procedures involved in managing gameplay for all the players. Because so much creativity lies in the hands of the players and GM, the rules of an RPG give similar procedures, and also guide expectations and encourage ideas. The rules of Scrabble or Settlers of Catan tell you what to do in the game to win. The rules of an RPG tell you how to create an experience in a way that is strikingly different. As the authors of the events that occur, the challenges that arise, and the ways in which the characters react, the GM and the players are active participants in the creation of that experience. An RPG rulebook is really instructions for the people around the table to create their own game. Ideally, every game of Scrabble in every living room anywhere is played the same, but every game of Numenera or Call of Cthulhu is played differently—different characters, different adventures, and different outcomes.

A GM in particular can learn a lot from the rules the designer includes. And in fact, how the rules are presented conveys information. If the combat chapter is longer by far than the section on negotiation, that communicates that combat is going to play a major role in gameplay. If there are no rules for psychic powers, they likely don’t exist within the game. If all the NPCs in the sample adventure are duplicitous, that’s going to set a tone for every adventure a GM makes on their own. Even the artwork plays into this, emphasizing one sort of character or activity over another.

While presentation is powerful, it’s the rules themselves that instruct the most. Designers are usually avid and experienced GMs, and so can forget what it’s like to pick up a new rulebook and be intimidated or confused. A new GM might understand how to run an encounter with a monster opponent for the PCs, but not know when over the course of a session that encounter should happen, that it can happen more than once, and what the players’ options are besides rolling initiative and jumping into the fray.

A lot of this comes down to context. When I first started running RPGs (I was 11 years old at the time), the rulebooks were not great at providing this sort of information, so I got it by reading published adventures. It sounds so basic now, but Glacial Rift of the Frost Giant Jarl taught 11-year-old me that the monsters can be organized, the guards at the entrance of a dungeon can warn the inhabitants farther in of intruders, and there can be a monster outside the dungeon not affiliated with those inside but still with an established relationship with them (I’m talking about the giants and the remorhaz for those of you who can remember those ancient days). It taught me some bad lessons too, because that place was filled with ridiculous numbers of giants and monsters, but nothing ever effectively communicated that the PCs weren’t supposed to fight all of them, that sneaking by or even talking to them was an option. (Give armed, hostile NPCs hit points without any other verbiage and the inexperienced reader is going to assume “fight!”) It didn’t warn me that encounter after encounter with the same kind of challenge is going to get dull. And so on.

As I work on The Magnus Archives Roleplaying Game, I find the instructional aspect of rules important. If you have listened to the entire podcast, you’ll understand that the game encourages you to create your own Magnus Archives-style world, with whatever changes you like (such as putting the archives themselves in a different city, changing the identities of some of the key characters, altering which entities are the most prominent in your stories, etc.). So even in a game with its own established setting, there’s a lot of room for GMs to create, or at least tailor, their own setting. That means that even “minor” rules materials, like creatures, NPCs, or artefacts, need to instruct the GM how and even why to use them. 

When possible, an RPG should provide GMs information about how and why they'd use any given rule. When I first wrote Numenera, I included a “Use” section for every new creature. While a few of these sections offer an adventure seed for the beast, the ones I liked best provide straight-to-the-GM commentary about the intention behind the creature and its role in an adventure. Obviously, an experienced GM can use a creature however they want, but for someone new to the game and new to the setting, I think it’s helpful to know if a creature is meant to be an enigmatic interaction encounter (philethis), a dangerous wilderness threat (ravage bear), or exotic set dressing (rubar). It’s useful to know that some creatures are so vile that pretty much any PC can destroy them without regret (murden), and that some can be used as an indicator of something nearby, like an extradimensional gate (yellow swarm). An inexperienced GM will also be grateful to know that some creatures are something the PCs can deal with one way or another fairly easily (laak), while others are designed to instill fear or careful consideration rather than combat (dread destroyer).

I suppose this kind of thing can go too far. A designer shouldn’t try to demand that the GM run their game exactly as prescribed. Part of the appeal of RPGs is that you can do whatever you want, however you want. But a gamer can’t make use of that freedom of choice if they don’t understand the choices they’re making.

As a game designer, the rules and adventures are the only way you have to communicate with the end users. I remember a long-ago criticism of a new game was, “This is a great game when run by the designer, but there isn’t room to fit him into the box.” Provide not only rules, but also context for how they can be used—not to mandate, but to inform. When you’re done with a project, look at what a player or GM might take away from it. Think about what the rules say both implicitly and explicitly. Think about what you’ve included but also what you haven’t included. 

Design deliberately.