Fable III

Fable II had problems, but the first half of the game was fun enough for me that I played it twice and would like to play it again.  Some things I liked about it:

• buying and fixing up properties,
• making money by trading in goods,
• making choices that affected how my character looked,
• interacting with npcs

Of these, I think only the first was not harmed by changes made in Fable III (though, a case could be made that they messed up the balance on this too; I quickly earned 1.5 million gold, where in the last game buying property was pleasantly challenging).

The Two-Item Store
I have never seen a video game regress as much as this did with its stores.  They went from stores with inventories that you could buy and sell items of a particular type, to stores with 2 or 3 items on pedestals that you walk up and buy or not.  You can only sell things at pawn shops.  Why?  Was this designed for use on tiny phone screens?  Are people so simple that they had trouble buying things from a list?  I had a fun time buying low from one merchant and selling high to another in the last game.  This game, I didn't even bother buying things for my own use.

You Are What You Do
I liked that you would change appearance if you did evil or lazy things, if you ate a lot of meat pies, or if you used big hammers in combat.  I made choices to avoid looking certain ways in the last game.  This is a very good way to make players care about choices.  This was pretty much neutered in Fable III.  Sure, your avatar changes, but minimally.  I maxed out magic-use and by the end of the game the only difference I could tell was that it looked like I had bad makeup on.

But more than that, the last game let you make choices as you went up in level about what to get better at.  This game dumbs that down as much as they did stores.  At certain points in the plot you go to the "Road To Rule."  In that location are a certain number of chests you can open to give you better abilities.  But that means you open a chest for better melee, no choice of melee moves.  It also means you can't buy properties, businesses or have kids until certain levels. Its hard for me to put into words all the things I didn't like about this set up.  I'll try:

• I could only guess at when I would "go up in level." This meant if I wanted one of the abilities (like, hello, buying businesses) I had to plow on into the plot rather than exploring the world at my own pace.
• When I did go up in level-- well, you didn't really go up in abilities unless you'd earned enough XP (guild badges) so you probably won't get all the abilities unlocked that first try.  Why?  Did I go up in level or not?  If you don't want me to get melee level 5 when I hit that level of the Road to Rule, why are you linking them?  Why not let me level up like the last game?
• Some things like the emotes, should have been available far sooner in the game (it actually didn't matter much because they broke the emote system so badly).

Basically the level up screen, like pause screen, was made a real, physical place in the game.  I like that they were trying something new, but here the abstraction of a screen rather than a real place is much simpler, easier to understand, and easier to use.  Again, were people having so much trouble with the concept of leveling up that they needed leveling up to be physically represented as a road?  I don't buy it.

There are other regressions-- why can't I tell the how clothing or food will affect my appearance, why were the job mini-games all boringly homogenized- but I'll move on to my biggest disappointment.

NPCs Make the Imagined World Go Round
One of the things I liked most about Fable II was that NPCs had a few simple character traits that, added together as a system, lent the world a sense of verisimilitude.  Want to get to know the blacksmith so you get cheaper weapons?  Don't joke around with him because he's a serious dude.  Want to start a family with that attractive vendor?  She likes the lake and chocolate.  So, take her out to the lake and then give her the chocolate as a gift for the best results.  And, when you start a new game, the NPCs are randomly generated.  You may have one game where everyone in town is trying to jump your bones (men and women) and the next game everyone's a prude.  Is there any other game that has anything even close to this?  Because they killed it in Fable III.

In Fable III you can't emote.  You can only interact with an NPC and then you are given a random choice of emote to do or not.  (I keep wondering if I've made a mistake, the new system is so utterly stupid that it can't be intended.  Is there a way to emote and I missed it?)  What that means is that I was doing sexy tangos and playing pattycake with all the men in the world.  Look, I like that the game allows for same sex relationships and crossdressing, I think it's cool, but do I have to sexy tango with every man?  Did anyone play test this?  Is this supposed to be funny and I'm missing it?

So many difficult choices, if only I could just dance with everyone!

Okay, forget about how appropriate tickling grown men is, because the emotes are an abstraction and were silly in Fable II as well.  They still crippled the system though, because what used to be mini-games for the different emotes turned into just holding down a button until the controller vibrates.  Were the mini-games too difficult for people?  I like that they meant you had to pay attention, it was an abstracted sense of working on a relationship.  With the Fable III version it is boring, boring grinding.  I went from happily talking to every NPC in the first village, to not caring, to dreading having to interact with NPCs at all.  Dear game designers, was player dread a goal of yours?  Because I was quite happy with the last system.

I don't think the change had to do with having more cities and thus more NPCs, because the emote engine is still there, you just can't choose how to use them.  So I can only hypothesize that this change was meant to simplify the game in order to reach a wider audience-- but the old system wasn't difficult to begin with.

Unless . . . that bane of my existence, multiplayer mode has something to do with it.  I have no desire to play video games on my console online with random strangers, hell, even with friends.  If I want to play with friends give me a coop mode where we can be in the same room and play together.  But it seems I am in the minority in this.  Designers and players seem to want capture the flag modes with every freakin' game that comes out.  Is that why the NPC interaction system was regressed?  Because of problems with online multiplayer or coop play?

My recommendation is, if you liked Fable II for any of the reasons I mentioned, skip this game and play that one again.

Have Some Shields

Update

I'm housesitting and playing Fable III.  I have to say I'm sorely disappointed.  As is often the case, the sequel cut out some of the things that made the previous game interesting and unique.  Ah well, when I hit it rich I know better what game I'll produce.  I'm not done with the game yet, it may improve.  But it says something when the strongest feeling it evokes in me is a desire to play the last game again.  I may do a mini-review in the future.

Some Thoughts on Hosting a Heist

Here are some things I learned while trying to run a heist in my old school game:

Reconnaissance is Exploration
And much the way you would expect it to take some time for players to get the feel for a dungeon level, it will take some time for them to case the location of the heist. 

One of the reasons it takes so long is that players will adjust and concoct new plans for each bit of intel they get.  Find out about the guard patrols-- plan all the ways they might be distracted; realize there is a sewer underneath-- plan how to use it stealthily.  So, learning about a place will be a continuous, rolling strategy session.

That's all fine, because with the right players it's great fun, but it takes time.  Next time I would plan for the fact that casing the joint will require a whole session and the heist will go down the next session.

You could give them all the intel at the start, but then I would treat that the same way you would treat giving a party a map and rundown of a dungeon level: make the most of the player's anticipation of very difficult parts and make the most of the confusion and drama a few errors thrown in can create.  So the fun shifts from, "What could be behind this door?" to "How are we going to handle the troll behind this door?"  Or, even "Why did the thief lie about the troll behind that door?"

Consequences, Consequences, Consequences
The whole reason you case a place is because it's too dangerous to go right in.  That may be because you will get killed or the person you are trying to save will get killed, or maybe, the object you're trying to get to will just teleport away.

This seems completely obvious, but it's something I messed up.  First, the only legal repercussion my players had faced was not that bad.  Second, I didn't put enough guards at my location.  Third, I didn't limit my players movement/power enough.

So I recommend: Make the heist happen somewhere where weapons are forbidden.  Make the heist happen where trouble is expected and if the guards come the players will likely be killed.  Or make the legal consequences dire.  And make sure the players know all this.  In other words, if they can just enter the place, swords drawn, shields raised and win the day, it's a dungeon, not a heist.

Teams
I put a lot of effort into not trying to expect what the players would do.  I put trees so they might climb the walls.  I put a sewer they might sneak through.  I had pilgrims flowing in and out of the place so they could do some easing reconnaissance and possibly sneak in that way.  I put a place they might dig under the wall.  I included a supply/corpse wagon that they might sneak onto.  I also made sure the party had several magic items that might be of use.

And this worked pretty well.  But, I think to encourage players to break into teams, especially, more than two teams, would require more skillful design.

Why does it matter?  Because much of the drama of the heist is relying on the actions of your compatriots.  If they screw up, your job is that much harder.  Also, it puts players in the position of an observer for a bit, rooting for the other players in the way a regular dungeon adventure doesn't.

So, I would want to design the heist location better to try and make a two or three prong approach a necessity.  Magical locks, magical alarms, nested locations.

The Trouble Meter
I got two results of complications during play.  They both worked well just the way a random encounter mixes things up in an interesting way.  But, the whole Trouble Meter went out the window because my players immediately made themselves obvious to everyone by creating a loud distraction.  I never ended up escalating the trouble meter.

So, you need to take distractions into consideration, because they are part of the genre.  I think this might be related to me not making the location hard/scary enough.  It's one thing to have a patrol distracted for a bit so someone can slip by, and another to say "Hey, here we are.  We are going to cause a hell of a lot of trouble!"  Isn't that why guards are there?  My players should have been much more leery of raising the general alarm.  Or, I should have had a segmented location, where the second team could have still raised an alarm within their area.

The Event Clock
In a pseudo-medieval setting you have dawn, dusk, and noon.  Anything else will have to be rung from a church bell or something.  Times won't be as precise as in a more modern setting.  So the clock wasn't that important during our session. 

I think this is closely related to teams, though.  One of the basic ways one team can let down another in this genre is if they get their timing off.  They might get hung up because of a complication or get sloppy and start a distraction too soon.  So, to make the clock more relevant you need teams and you need time dependent tasks: "Once the magic door is opened you have thirty minutes before it closes again, permanently."

But, it means you need a way to measure time too.  pseudo-medieval characters aren't running around with Timexes.  How do they know when they are supposed to start the distraction?  This means players will need to utilize magic that extends the senses ("When you hear us start yelling, go!") or creates a link between the players.  Or, that the location itself needs to offer some semi-regular events that players can utilize as time markers.

The Rescue

Toral Powerless DP
Mollie Powerless DP
Athydas MU
Gail MU
Yestlick MU
G F
    Janis hireling
    le bouche hireling
Z F
    Pita hireling
    Mika hireling
    Fabrino hireling
Derick F
    Jimbo hireling
    Zigfried trained baboon
Luke F
Sarai Rogue

The party is in Mont St Brise, the City of Pilgrims, their ship has been quarantined the crew and pilot incarcerated, their cargo confiscated.  They find that the prisoners are being held in the shrine of St Letholdus, the pilgrimage destination in the city.   They run into Luke and Sarai, brother and sister, whose mother is also being held for witchery.  The prisoners will be burned in a week.

The party follows the throng of pilgrims up the main processional and into the shrine to get a sense of the place.  The shrine is a three story, damaged keep with two entrances, pilgrims enter by one and exit by the other.

After being prevented from scouting the castle courtyard, Luke reveals he has an inborn ability to become invisible and proceeds to explore the shrine itself.  He goes down a set of stairs and finds a dungeon just below the shrine.  His mother is there, along with the ship's crew, the heretic Isabelle and the laodah (ships pilot).

There is also small sewage grate set in the floor.  He decides to see if he can exit via it. In the noisome darkness he has a hard time navigating, turning one way then another, at one point passing withing breathing distance of a silent, squatting figure.  He eventually finds his way out a grate, into the moat.

Mollie, Sarai and Yestlick decide to circumnavigate the castle.  They find several tall trees next to the walls and several sewage grates emptying into the filthy moat. They see Luke as he wades out of a grate.

After much planning, the party decides a two prong approach: one group will enter via the sewers while the other makes a loud distraction.

Sarai unlocks a grate, the team enters the sewer, finds the passage up into the dungeon with some trouble and begins unlocking the prisoner's cells.  G had learned enough of the sailors' language to know how to say "go down, bastards."  There was some tension about whether Isabelle would come because she seemed happy to martyr herself.  Her decision to escape with the rest made the party very happy.

Above ground, Toral was winding up into a sermon about the falseness of this shrine.  Z turns himself into a wolf as part of the play.  The whole scene is being watched by Sarai through a weird eye-in-egg so the teams can coordinate themselves.  Toral is winning over the crowd as the guards close in.

Back in the sewer, Mollie is leading the long line of prisoners to freedom when they come to a dead end (first complication) much confusion ensues.  A figure comes out of the darkness at the back of the group where G is.  He misses with a thrown dagger and then it is upon him, clawing and biting.  He is paralyzed and the figure begins eating the flesh from his face.

The rest of the sewer team rushes back towards the fight but isn't very successful.  Suddenly a light blossoms in the tunnel as Isabelle, heretic worshipper of St Cecily, drives the foul thing off.  The team figures out they can dig through the loose earth that has caved in their exit, Luke and Yestlick drag the stiff G.  The prisoners pour out into the moat.

Back above ground Toral is delivering a stemwinder (and the video being Facebooked) when a wagon begins leaving the castle by pushing right through the crowd (second complication).  The party finds the wagon is loaded with corpses (of the ill who have died) and Toral's implications that they have been killed by the Order of St Letholdus drives the crowd wild.  they begin attacking the guards as Athydas puts the wagon driver to sleep.  He also puts one of the draft horses to sleep.  He jumps down to cut the sleeping horse free as Z and his hirelings run into the shrine to snatch some of the offertory gold.  Finally, they jump on the wagon and proceed out the gate just as the straggle of prisoners is coming around in the moat.  Those all jump in the wagon, ad furious descent down the processional ends up with the party being dumped in the sea.  The still-paralyzed G is helped aboard and the party hastily sets sail in their ship.

Unknown to them, their sacks with 12,000 silver pieces were one floor up in the shrine.

_________________________________
Some Thoughts

If you take anything from this, ladies and gentlemen, it should be that a DM can make plenty of big mistakes and everyone still have a rip-roaring time.  So, learn from your mistakes, but don't let the fear of making them keep you from DMing.

I'll post next with some specific ideas about running a heist, but a few more general thoughts on last Friday's session:

10 is too many people playing all at once, at least for that space.

I learned from watching I Hit it With My Axe to give one-time visitors something special to give them some spotlight.  What I have learned though is don't give new players information that will be important to the party.  They have too much to absorb as it is.  They will forget.  They won't tell the party when they need too.  Give them powers or things.  Giving Luke's player the ability to turn invisible for 30 minutes once a day was great, he became pivotal early on (it also gave a reason to get involved with the party-- his mother was being burned because she had powers too).  Giving Sarai's players the eggs of Chinweike also worked well, making her important once the heist started.  Oh, I also told her she spoke Arabic.  She was thrilled when she read the magic word that activated Z's turban of climbing (finally).

If you want to give information that will incorporate new players, give it to the old hands who already know that these new players will need to be woven in somehow.  I guess you could say they are more meta savy, where new players are trying to figure out the imagined world itself.

Big d30 rule for the win again.  Toral chose to roll it, got a 30, and the crowd of leprous amputees began assaulting all the guards in their fervor at Toral's sermon.

I seemed to handle two separated groups okay, switching them back and forth quickly.

I could have done a better job of trying to draw in the quietest 3 players.  I did some, but with the volume of people in the room and all the stuff I was juggling there were stretches that they were too quiet.

The players totally misunderstood my portrayal of the shrine.  I guess they thought a D&D shrine would have sick folk go in one door and come out well from the other door.  I'm thinking that divine healing is as rare in my world as magic use.  They thought the whole city was an evil scam.  I was trying to depict it how I envisioned a real medieval pilgrim city might function. Through that lens, Toral's actions seem almost evil: he's fomenting revolt and violence against dedicated Allfatherans etc.

Now the party is back in the same ship, with the same crew, and almost the same passengers, minus their cash.  They are doing it wrong, haha.  I'm frantically trying to prepare for where they might go next.  I'm working on a city dependent on slave labor, with canals, and an invisible dungeon.