Friday, January 10, 2025

Do we need to play games to review them?

Edit: Immediately upon publishing this post I was directed to this fantastic piece from Josh at Rise Up Comus. Alas, nothing is original, and indeed unbeknownst to me this is a recurrent issue in our space. I've decided to leave mine up because while his raises the same question as mine, I feel I contribute a little to the discussion.

I have been reading a fair number of TTRPG system and module reviews lately and it has sparked some thoughts. Many of the authors I am reading clearly haven’t played the games they’re reviewing. This is understandable, games take much longer to play than they do to read, one’s a social activity requiring at least one (if you’re lucky) other person, and the other’s a solo pursuit. And, echoing a thought from the seminal essay on this topic, the pace at which games are being published continues to outstrip the rate at which they could all ever possibly be played (and this rate has perhaps accelerated in recent years?).

All of this has prompted a question for me – do we need to play games to review them?

On the one hand, reviewers that haven’t played the games they review tend (in my experience) to place a lot of focus on the layout, art, presentation, and how the module reads – all things completely invisible to the other players at the table. These reviews also place emphasis on story, setting, lore, and writing quality, all valuable to have insight on, but with much less bearing on the gameplay than the game’s actual mechanics or the module’s structure. 

Rationally, this makes sense to me: a game’s core mechanics are sometimes only one chapter out of ten, and so if I were to spread my commentary equally over the length of the book naturally I would de-emphasize the mechanics. But in my view, we’re in the hobby of playing role-playing games, and the priority should always be on the gameplay experience… and here the Author That Hath Not Played can only speculate; they have no first-hand experience to draw from. 

Placing this in comparison with someone who is reviewing a system or module they’ve played for years – often the setting and lore are the last things to be brought up. They’re much more concerned with what the system enables them to do, or how much work a module required them to put in to actually run it.

In modules I find this particularly thorny to wrestle with: I think level design can be one of the most difficult realms of game design to interrogate superficially. It takes playtesting, and repeated playtesting, to see how a dungeon/encounter/puzzle holds up, and I’m not sure I would trust a food critic who didn’t taste their meals. I have read some pretty dodgy conclusions drawn from first-readings of modules: “it feels punishing”, “these mechanics seem finicky”, “there isn’t enough depth here”, all of which come up far too often for the lack of testing the reviewers have done.

I guess I always worry these reviews could miss integral gameplay elements, or overemphasise unimportant ones. You can’t see the invisible: it seems improbable to me that a reviewer would be able to spot the benefits of any emergent design without any playtime. There’s no actual experience with a gaming product that has been specifically designed to be played, and that seeds doubt in my mind.

On the other hand, the authors of these reviews are (usually) very experienced gamers! They know what a good module/game looks like and when it’s going wrong, thanks to real life gameplay experience with dozens of modules and games in the past. These in depth read-throughs or first impressions can help others who are maybe less experienced or have less time on their hands, to know when to even pick up a book in the first place. They help catapult worthy titles into the limelight where they will get played!

Also, the layout, art and story are all important. Modules are designed to be consumed by referees, and has been mentioned many times before, our hobby is as much about art and fiction as it is about gaming.

Some of these modules and zines which are either poorly designed for gameplay or not designed for it in the first place are still extremely valuable contributions to our vibrant culture. It wouldn’t completely surprise me if we one day discovered Mörk Borg had never actually been played by a single human being, ever, and the entire Mörk Borg subculture was simply a complicated but groundbreaking art exhibition. (I’m kidding, Mörk Borg is a great game and if you haven’t tried it you should.) 

And I shouldn’t make out like these authors are leading us on. Most of them make sure to flag when they haven’t played a given game or module before, and make it clear to us they’re just sharing their impressions from a first read-through*. It’s only when they share these ‘impressions’ as damning gospel that I take issue.

I don’t think this is a question that needs answering. There is nothing wrong with sharing one’s impressions of a game or module, and coming from someone with experience and care it can be a great boon to the rest of the community. However, whenever I do see a review of a game that lacks actual time with the game in question, it does put me on my guard, and I think it would behoove you to do so as well. Read the reviews, use them as valuable vetting processes for finding the next game you want to play or run, but keep an eye out for conclusions being made for you.

*: I will note I have noticed this trend disappearing recently – more authors seem to be failing to mention when they have or have not played a game or module, and I would like to make a quiet request to the world at large for its return.

Further reading:

Thursday, January 2, 2025

Play report 30th Dec 2024 – MOTD Session 142

Characters:
Anabelle, half-elf ranger 14
Trick, human bard 14
Truck, human barbarian 14
Keren, tiefling warlock 3/paladin 11
Retainers:
Adea, Etruscan ex-slave, level 11 human mercenary retainer (Flee Mortals p.166)

At the end of the last session, the party had just settled down for a short rest in the chamber of the Sword of Cliniar. They had two parts of the Three-Part Key, needed to open the final section of the dungeon, and only needed one more.

Anabelle took Truck to one side and had a brief conversation with him. “You know, big guy, we haven’t really talked much about what you’re going to do when this is all over. I love your brother, and I just want you to know I’ll look after him. Not that he, well, needs looking after, but we’ll be together, y’know... and so he’ll be okay if you... well... I guess what I’m saying is if you need to do anything... you can do it,” she finished lamely. Truck cracked a joke and successfully side-stepped the issue, but Anabelle’s words hung in the air.

Once the group were recovered, they climbed back up the stairs and stepped out onto the island’s shore. Immediately, Anabelle spotted the group of dragon cult members making their way along the northern shore, revealed by the brilliant light the dragon priest was carrying. Both groups saw each other at the same time, the alarm was raised, and initiative was rolled.

The party spotted the third part of the key hanging from the belt of one of the cult members, but before they could do anything one of the dragonfangs raised a blood-stained topaz into the air and dropped it, crushing it underfoot. Immediately, a scream pierced the air, a scream that echoed off the walls and was clearly heard throughout the entire dungeon complex, and a wind blew through the cavern bringing with it the scent of ozone. The dragonfang grinned. “She knew you were here. We all did. And now she’s coming.”

The two sides leapt at one another. Anabelle called a horde of spectral woodland creatures to her aid, the leader of the cult members – a man whose head had been horribly transfigured into the mockery of a dragon’s – let out a roar of electricity and Keren put her new blade Zyríva to use. Only a few moments later Anabelle cut down the dragon priest and Keren scored a critical hit on the dragonling, decapitating it. The dragonfangs crumpled soon after.

The party took a moment to breathe, and investigate the group’s belongings.

From diary entries they learned the soldiers were one of a few groups who had been exploring a part of the dungeon the party hadn’t made it to yet, and the cult had a firm foothold in the northern part of the complex. They also found orders on the body of the priest, sent by the Prophet to each member of the cult, revealing the existence of a ‘Prisoner’ and a number of contingency plans should the Mask of the Dragon fail to recover the Red Dragon Mask.

Just at that moment the two dragon masks held by Trick and Keren began to glow dimly, indicating a dragon was nearby. Bellisthriar, the Voice of Angels was after them!

Rushing now, the group charged to the entrance of the Tomb of the Last King and used their newly constructed Three-Part Key to unseal it.

Beyond, they discovered a violent underground river, coursing over a series of rapids. It surged round rocky bends and past ancient Etruscan statues, heading down, down, down, until it dropped over a short waterfall. Here, a whirlpool had formed at the base of the waterfall, and a magical storm churned in the air above, lightning sparking off the walls.

Knowing the blue dragon was in pursuit, the party quickly cast Water Walk and charged down the river. When they made it to the top of the waterfall a psychic scream began to build in the back of their heads, making it difficult to concentrate. Anabelle gave Adea the Talisman of Tinas, which she used to teleport past the storm, and Keren cast Control Water to attempt to calm the whirlpool.

Reaching out with her mind she was able to delicately push back against the fabric of the spell causing the swirling vortex, and the party dropped off the lip of the waterfall with a carefully timed Feather Fall. They sprinted across the uneven (but calmer) surface of the whirlpool, dodging bolts of lightning from the artificial storm above and trying to ignore the scream which was now ripping through their minds.

They were just about to reach the far side of the storm when Keren lost her balance and fell, getting picked up by the surface of the whirlpool and whisked back into the tempest. Clambering to her feet grimly she pushed off against the water again, but fell one more time before finally reaching the relative safety of the far side.

In their mad dash along the glow of the dragon masks had died, but while waiting for Keren to make it out of the storm the glow returned. Hastened, the party crossed the final stretch of river to find it emptied into a calm lake. The lake sat in a large natural cavern flanked by more Etruscan statues, and at the far end a towering set of bronze doors stood on a stone platform. The Tomb of the Last King of the Etruscans.

Notes:

The fight this session went super well. It was easy, as intended, but didn’t feel like a waste of time. This is something I’ve been thinking about recently. 5th Edition fights at high levels tend to either be time-wasting resource drains, or supernova boss fights. There’s very little middle ground.

I think because I tied this encounter to something the party needed (the Three-Part Key), put them up against a group of bad guys the party really enjoy beating up, and also placed it after a series of particularly gruelling challenges, it was a fun up-beat in the adventure’s pacing that gave the party a chance to feel good about how powerful they were and didn’t take too much time. An easy stormtrooper fight to relax.

The river...
When the party were lower level I would have always made sure the party had at least one solution available to them before putting a challenge such as a ‘violent turbid river with no discernible crossing’ in front of them. Even if I wanted the solution to be hidden, or a puzzle for the party to solve, I would always take a few minutes to make sure no challenge was ‘insurmountable’.

Now they’re of sufficient level though it’s extremely relaxing to simply be able to put something like this in front of the players and sit back, confident they have the spells or abilities to solve it. The tension and interest comes from the players figuring out how they’re going to solve it, in the most resource efficient or safest way possible. The players spent about half an hour in real life figuring out the best plan for dealing with the river/waterfall/whirlpool combo, and a lot of that was discussing which spell slots to spend now, and which they wanted to conserve for a potential blue dragon fight.

I know a lot of people would find this type of micro-management boring, or too crunchy; but I think my group enjoys this type of challenge. I know I certainly do. Giving the players agency means giving them interesting choices to make, and that means giving those choices weight. That can come in many different ways, and if some of those ways are more about system mastery ("I don’t want to use my last 4th level spell slot, I want to save it for the dragon") than hyper-realistic immersion, that’s okay with me.

At the end of the day we’re playing a game, not just a role-play. Fun can come from interacting with the game’s mechanics as well as problem solving in the game’s world.

Pacing...
As always, I dramatically overestimated the pacing of this session. I had content prepared right up until the climax of this level of the dungeon and half-expected them to complete it all this session, but of course that wasn’t the case. By the books the whole campaign (minus the epilogue) should be done in about half a dozen sessions... however I predict it’ll take us about double that to really finish up.