I (Sebastian, the player) have been giving some thought to this matter much in the recent weeks, and would like to start by sharing my remarks here.
My experience from having been involved with role-playing for almost thirty years leads me to believe there are three critical factors to presenting a memorable and fun character in a role-playing game: engagement, presence, and imagination.
EngagementOf the three factors, I think this is the most important by far. Engagement with a role-playing scenario implies willingness to learn the system the game uses and also a willingness to learn the story or setting used by the game. Without this crucial willingness, a presented character seems dissociated from the game at best and extremely irritating at worst.
The SystemEvery game has rules. The key to a character's success in a roleplaying game is his/her ability to grow. In most systems growth means expansion of power, bearing in mind that knowledge is one of the most significant kinds of power of all.
Some very experienced roleplayers like to challenge themselves by taking on roles with significant system-related weaknesses and obstacles
for that specific character to overcome. This approach yields excellent results in the hands of a dedicated and mature player, but as it is an advanced form of play I do not intend to address it in this particular essay.
For most players, and for any player new to a certain game, the first stage in character development must be mastery of the system. In MagicDuel, the system centers primarily around dueling, with a secondary emphasis on quests and puzzle-solving.
Dueling in MagicDuel is all about rituals. Most novice players will quickly grasp the mechanics of setting an offensive ritual as they gather aramors and barren souls to fight the NPC Shades at the beginning of the game. The guardians of Willow's shop will teach the need for advanced creatures, and the infamous Loreroot guardians teach the lesson of subtlety. For perhaps the first time, players may begin to grasp the advantages to using fewer than the maximum six creatures in some fights.
Defensive rituals can be harder to learn, and for most players this is a matter of patient trial and error. Some will begin to appreciate the expedience of throwaway defenses, which use a single, relatively weak creature to shield the defender from repeated attacks by the same player. Nastier defenses will be learned in time, usually by encountering them oneself. Those who have internalized the lesson of the Loreroot guardians will begin to understand the weaknesses in their own defenses, and by extension will learn to penetrate the defenses of others.
Skills are sometimes ignored or otherwise undervalued by players who focus on character development. Luck, Briskness, and combat-related skills are vital to success later in the game.
I have encountered three important systemic limitations in the MD system: experience caps, alliance win/loss freezes, and heat. Experience caps will propel incautious players to new MP levels before they are ready to hold their own. Joining an alliance can unbalance a character's fight balance permanently, or skew it so badly as to be permanently imbalanced for all practical purposes. Heat can be a wonderful tool, but it is perhaps the hardest part of the system to learn to manage, and will very definitely contribute to the problem of experience caps.
All these things are important to understand for the simple reason that a weak duelist cannot much influence the events of the MD world-setting. I can think of at least two players whose ideas are marvelous but have little chance of ever attracting much attention because their characters' power levels are so weak as to command almost no respect.
Most quests in MD are fairly straightforward, and in the case of Loreroot, one who does not master the quests requisite to even fighting the guards will be hamstrung by lack of access to some of the more powerful creatures in the game.
To conclude, any roleplaying concept in MagicDuel must be backed by some manner of competence in the game's core engine, which focuses on combat. Players who persistently ignore the rigors of advancing their characters' power levels effectively doom their characters to appropriate contempt from more experienced players who have put forth the effort. While it is true that many superior duelists are weak roleplayers, Manu's concept of MP levels as filters for players in the game ultimately requires "serious" roleplayers to master the system of the game.
The SettingNo serious roleplayer can hope to gain the respect of the player community by unilaterally declaring changes to the setting. The setting exists as a basis for the player characters' interaction. Novice and sophomore-level roleplayers frequently announce actions that are in no way borne out by the system or the setting. Such interaction undercuts the plausibility of the character because it has no in-game "reality".
Unilateral game actions can vary in plausibility from the highly plausible to the completely absurd. If I write in the game chat interface, "[Tarquinus slaps Penelope LightMoon]", that is reasonable to suppose. If I write, "[Tarquinus transforms into a phoenix and burns off Penelope LightMoon's hair", that is entirely unreasonable. Unreasonable actions spin further and further from the consensual hallucination of game "reality" until they become higly immature variants on "let's pretend": [Penelope regrows hair and castrates Tarquinus]; [Tarquinus laughs because he is already a eunuch, and summons a mountain to fall on Penelope's head]; [Penelope turns her skin to adamantium and grows 50 feet in height before squashing Tarquinus like a grape]... etc
ad nauseam. The game system exists precisely to govern these kinds of things - you can go around claiming to summon lightning to strike PCs who annoy you all you like, but your claim is both absurd and sad because there is an actual lightning bolt spell in the game, and if you make claims you can't support, you not only make a fool of yourself but demean the plausibility of the setting.
And this lack of plausibility is precisely the problem with unilateral roleplaying: it ignores the setting. I heard that someone "magically redecorated" the Sanctuary at the Capitol of Marind's Bell in order to open a "pub" there. I have problems with this kind of declaration because it steamrollers beautiful artwork and interesting mysteries in favor of the very kinds of mundanity I play MD to avoid. "Never mind that there are several staircases and doorways in Wind's Sanctuary - the loo is right next to the weapons shop." What? Consider:
- There are two bathrooms in the MDA already.
- There is no evidence at all that there is anything in the MD world to drink but water and potions.
- There is no evidence of food anywhere in the setting.
- There is no reason at all to suppose that MD characters ever hunger, thirst, tire, or need to use the bathroom.
- For a very long time, there was no reason to suppose that MD characters could even die.
- Value points replenish every ten minutes in increments of 250 gold coins. Is this not remarkable?
The setting of MagicDuel is full of mysteries. What happened to Marind? What is this world, after all? Why does the sun never set? What is in the tent where night can be seen, and why does the sun sometimes move in story mode but never at any other time? Why did Gabriel Wind and Daniel Raven go to war? Who are the three apprentices to Jack Willow, and why is one of them so hard to find? What is the Land Weapon of Marind's Bell? And for all love, who was Helen Wasp?
Pretending to drink ale in the sanctuary and order around invisible manservants seems to be more appealing to some. Well, everyone in the game has a choice, but as a roleplayer, I have to put myself in the perspective of the character who was consumed by Liquid Dust, encountered a strange godlike being, was imprisoned in a cube for a time, was assaulted by a jester with a toy mallet, and then was unceremoniously dumped in Marble Dale Park to find his bearings. That is the setting. If some players wish to pretend to drink ale, the character I play will accuse them of doing just that: pretending. He will also conclude that they are hopelessly nostalgic or mad.
To ignore the setting is to insult the work that went into developing it. My tone here may sound sharply critical, but one of MD's partners, Renaissance Kingdoms, includes in-game taverns and even
systemic rewards and penalties for eating, fasting, drinking alcoholic beverages, or going to Church. Getting in a fight in that game is considerably more difficult than it is in MagicDuel. I play both games. This one interests me much, much more because of the rich uniqueness of the setting.
But the real question here is one of engagement with the setting. A character who engages the setting seems to belong to it, and helps bring it to life.
PresenceThe second most important factor in playing a memorable, plausible character is one of presence in the setting. By presence I refer to immersion of the player into the character's point of view.
A character present in the setting does not refer to things not in the setting, except insofar as s/he has encountered such things in other worlds. Lucius Tarquinus was an Etruscan tyrant, a necromancer, and later a liche in the worlds he occupied before coming to the world of MagicDuel. Now he is just another wizard in a world full of wizards, and he is not a particularly powerful one. His history before MagicDuel is semi-relevant at best; here he writes a new story, which is mostly about romance with a skinny, redheaded barbarian girl he'd likely have ignored anywhere else. Lucius does not refer to emails or personal messages, but rather adopts his apprentice's term of "scrolls". He does not know what a book is, but he is learning. Everywhere he goes, he tries to observe the world around him as closely as he can. He has made friends and enemies in this world, and is slowly learning to let go his enemies from other worlds; where he is now is much more relevant.
His apprentice and paramour, Penelope LightMoon, also remembers another world. Lucius asked her about the strange, wall-less shrines found in the world, and she has told him they are called glazbenos. Lucius and Penelope take great pains to inform other characters that the word is "glaz-BEE-noe", not gazebo.
These little details enhance the sense of the characters' presence in this world. They are strangers to it; they are confused; and they muddle around like everyone else. Neither one knows what a cell-phone or Google search is. When another character engages either one in conversation, the sense of belonging to the world of MagicDuel is likely to be enhanced by this couple's alienation, innocence, and sharp interest in their surroundings.
This is not an advertisement for what marvelous roleplayers Penelope's player and I are. I offer it simply to illustrate what I mean by presence. Speak to Khalazdad, Yrthilian, BlackThorn, or player characters like them, and you will see what I mean by presence.
ImaginationRobert Frost once said writing English poetry without rhyme or meter is like playing tennis without a net. Subsequent writers have proven him wrong, but this opinion illustrates my point about imagination very well. Unrestricted imagination quickly becomes dull... weird for the sake of weird, exotic for the sake of difference.
Therefore I conclude by saying imagination, while important to the presentation of a memorable character, is actually one of the less important factors. To understand what I mean, consider Indiana Jones, Herakles, Wonder Woman, or Lara Croft. These characters are not all-powerful, but they are definitely superhuman in some ways. These memorable characters take very plausible ideas - an archaeologist, a strongman, an amazon warrior, and a treasure hunter - and vary from real-life people only in detail. They have their weaknesses, and the more we learn about them, what appeals to us is not so much their larger-than-life stature, but how human they are.
ConclusionA memorable roleplaying character must
Engage the system and setting of a game, be
Present to give plausibility and verisimilitude (seeming life-like), and be
Imaginative within defined limits. Presenting such a character takes practice for some, but rewards not only the controlling player but anyone else who takes pleasure in the collaborative fiction of playing the game.