Back in my early Dungeons & Dragons (Moldvay/Mentzer) gaming days I used to complain that D&D didn’t have a skill system, which was true, to quote Obi-Wan Kenobi, “from a certain point of view.” Looking at it another way, D&D did have a skill system; it was embedded within the character classes. Each character class had what it needed to delve dungeons and explore new lands and, while there was some overlap, each class specialized in things the other classes couldn’t. Only together could they form a balanced team, with each class shining at the appropriate time.
In short, if you wanted to bash things and take a lot of punishment you were a Fighter; if you wanted to be sneaky and clever you were a Thief; if you wanted grand arcane power you were a Magic-User; and if you wanted to be the glue that held the party together and kept them healthy you were a Cleric.
When other RPGs have used skill systems I’ve noted that all too often the niches are blurred. In many games it is very easy, for example, for every player character to have the highest possible skill in the one or two weapons that they use 90% of the time as well as the best protection available, which chips away at the utility of the party Fighter. And while a ‘thief/rogue’ type may have a versatile suite of criminal/espionage skills, it is very easy for a Fighter PC to concentrate on one or two of the most useful ‘thief skills,’ thereby limiting the need for the Thief. Depending on the game system, it’s also possible to come up with hybrid Fighter/Magic-Users that are good warriors and great magicians, albeit with a smaller bag of tricks.
This can sometimes crop up in “soft niche” games such as the later iterations of D&D or games with ‘archetypes,’ where certain classes are actually class combinations with more limited options and certain skills may be open to all, with or without restrictions.
I’m sticking with fantasy here but the point works in other genres – how effective is a martial artist superhero when her best buddy is wearing powered armor? I once played in a fantasy/cyberpunk Shadowrun where my chiphead/decker outclassed the street samurai of the party because I’d only specialized in one weapon, which made me the most lethal member of the team when I used it.
From a realistic standpoint, limiting character options seems arbitrary; why can’t a wizard learn how to wield a sword? From a gameability standpoint, it makes a great deal more sense. Since many modern systems utilize skills as the defining feature of what a PC can do, a GM that wishes to institute niche protection will have to determine what those niches are and then modify the rules accordingly (e.g. only certain classes get certain skills or access to particular equipment, or maybe certain classes can only take particular skills at pre-determined limits – only Pilots can have Starfighter Piloting and may have all Piloting skills up to X rank; all other PCs are barred from taking Starfighter Piloting and may only take other Piloting skills up to X-Y).
So what benefits does niche protection offer?
1. We need YOU to do this. There are certain things that only a particular character can do, necessitating the other PCs to not ignore her or get by with another character that may have a slightly lesser-ranked skill.
2. That’s funny you failed; now I’ll try! Without niche protection, there can be so many redundancies that a party could have three or four tries at succeeding in a roll. A player feels less important if her niche is shared by most of the party.
3. I thought you were a fighter? My brawling skill is higher! Without niche protection, and especially with inexperienced players, another PC may actually be better at things that that niche PC is supposed to be good at.
4. You can’t climb? And you’re a ninja? As niche protection limits particular abilities/skills to certain characters, it acts like a flashing neon sign as to what skills are important for a particular character to take. Sometimes a skill/advantage list is so overwhelming that a player simply forgets to pick things that her character should be good at, either because she missed them or she thought another character was supposed to pick them.
5. These kewl powerz are yours! With niche protection, each PC gets access to toys that the others don’t. Only the Space Marine can operate the railguns, while only the Infiltrator can use the superspy equipment.
So how about you? Have you left niche protection to the bygone days of gaming? Do you use some sort of niche protection with your group regardless of how open the rules are? Do you prefer ‘soft niche protection’ where versatility is possible with an increased cost? Have you ever felt stifled by attempts at niche protection?
I’ve seen both ends of the spectrum in modern gaming. There have been cases where a group becomes crippled because no one was willing to take on a particular niche role, or did it in a less than ideal way. The dreaded “We really need a healer!†situation is probably the most common. On the other hand, I’ve also seen games where the table is a mix of fairly well balanced characters who actually do work well together. So there can be good and bad with both.
To a certain degree, I think there is still an unwritten social contract at most gaming tables where players *TRY* not to step on one another’s toes. Most of the groups I’ve been in, if someone really wants to be a sneaky thief, everyone else backs off and lets that player be the best at that skill set. It doesn’t stop others from taking some points in those skills, but it at least allows players a chance to shine in their chosen area.
In addition, as a player, I’ve always hated games where ‘we’re only as good as our worst character’. So many times, every player at the table has had to roll for something and ended up dragging the whole group down. The clumsy fighter clanking around while the group tries to sneak past the sleeping goblins. The tactless wizard saying something wrong in a delicate social situation. And so on. Letting the characters be a little more balanced may make it more work to have every character shine, but it also can elevate the group’s abilities.
That second situation can be partially alleviated by making it a single group roll with the specialist making the main roll and the rest of the group rolling to “assist”. Of course the DC is higher than usual (because you need to sneak FOUR people past the goblins, not one) but your expected roll is higher too. In addition, a good rogue would make a roll beforehand to try and mitigate any penalties (silencing the fighter’s platemail the best he could with rags and padding, etc…).
That’s what I generally try and do in my own games, but I’ve played in quite a few that do the ‘everyone rolls’ type of thing way too often. What good is it to be an amazingly stealthy thief if you’re always going to get spotted because of the clumsy tank or separate yourself from the party and make yourself too vulnerable.
Ultimately, it all depends on the GM. 🙂
Orikes brings up a good point, some “niche” skills stop a story dead in its tracks unless everyone has the skill, stealth being a prime example.
In books and movies, you often see the heroes sneak into the enemy lair. In many games with niche protection, you see the cleric stumble into the gong and cause hours of sideshow combat.
Gumshoe games have Piggybacking, where one person takes the lead, and uses their great skill to pull the entire party with them. There are mechanics that make it more expensive to carry a total incompetent as opposed to a character that has a little training.
So the stealthy character says “shhh, and step only where I step.” Mechanics happen, and if they succeed, the entire party is stealthy. Which allows the sneak into the enemy lair scene to happen without everyone being a ninja.
And it lets the group sneak shine.
I bet other systems have similar mechanics.
Unhelpfully, I think the answer is “maybe, sometimes, it depends.” Mechanical niche protection is a tool that I want in RPG designers’ toolboxes, but I certainly don’t want it present in every game.
This is a problem that I have also noticed, especially in the class-less systems. For example, in GURPS there have been many times that I have accidentally stolen another character’s niche with what I thought was minimal effort (1 skill point). The problem in that case was that it is directly based off my attribute, which was two or three points higher.
Communication helps, but so does the system. Do you say “I will not take that skill, even though I can, and it fits my character background”? Probably not. Character background, and what is “realistic” given it, is a tricky thing.
The more that I think about it, the less that niche should exist. It seems to exist only so people can have their characters shine. A problem with this is that some people seem to have a talent for making useless characters. It is not fair for your character, who should have a skill, decide to not have it just because Mr Mediocre wants to have that skill as his niche, but only has a lame value in it.
A niche should be more of specialization, and that could be communicated to the party. “Hey, I want to be really good at this one sort of thing”. OK, that is fine, but you need to actually make your character with that in mind. I have seen too many people claim a niche and suck at it.
It’s an idea that I will probably implement depending on the number of players at my table. My gaming group currently consists of 7 people (six PCs and GM). Initially, there were only going to be five PCs, but there was one more person who wanted to play a PC, however, due to how over powered larger groups get, I told the players that PCs would get one less build point to spend if we added the extra character.
Similarly, with a group this large, there is so much overlap in terms of what the PCs can do. Although it doesn’t happen during every combat or situation, there are times when PCs have nothing to do. And like the article mentioned, there are times when the PC typically associated with a specific role is sidelined by another, yet untraditional role.
I always want the players to enjoy the PCs they’ve created, and don’t like to arbitrarily set limitations. This would be something I would discuss with the other players first, but I could see placing restrictions on certain class combinations with larger groups.
I’m not really a fan of enforcing niche through the system itself. It always feels like a design strategy based on the inability of some GMs/Players to allow spotlight moments for everyone at the table.
The problem that arises when a system enforces niches is that it generally begins to require a character from every niche in order for the party to function properly and other systems within the game metastasize around that requirement. Adventures and modules made for that system will generally assume a certain party composition as well.
None of this is necessarily a Bad Thing, but it tends to drive the system itself further into its own niche.
Why can’t a wizard use a sword? Because learning magic is a time intensive line of study, and so is learning to use a sword to good effect.
To put it another way: every wizard has used a sword once and never again will be seen in public fighting like Colin Firth in Bridget Jones’s Diary 2 on account of it does no good to the old gravitas.
I’m sure Ulan Dhor and Gandalf might have something to say about wizards using swords.
I love Gandalf as much as the next man, but he’s possibly the worst imaginable example for “what a PC wizard should be able to do” in pretty much any game system.
Or, to put it another way, if I were as old as the universe, I’d probably be pretty good with a sword too.
Niche Protection is an interesting idea and one I’m glad you’ve explained. I will add it to my toolbox as a GM.
As others have said, it can be written into the rules of the game or implemented as a social construct amongst the players. I think it’s fine when written into the game rules but only to a certain degree. For example, a small number of signature special abilities that are unique to each class. I would not want to see it too strongly enshrined in the rules. I think that takes too much away from the flexibility of the game to support having characters with overlap when interesting or desirable.
I’m actually dealing with an issue of “This overlap makes me feel my character isn’t special” in my long term game right now. We now have three characters with lots of “face” skills. But instead of telling two of the players they’ve got to rewrite their characters so the first player’s face-woman remains special, I’ve encouraged all three players to think about 1) how their characters will use similar skills differently based on their different backgrounds, and 2) how the party’s new strength in politicking offers opportunities to solve problems with methods other than their natural “Let’s go find something we can whomp on” mindset.
I’ve also played in games where overlap in one skill area comes at the cost of weakness in some other area. This doesn’t have to be a problem. Just look at things from a different perspective. When you’re short on X and long on Y it’s not just “We’re weak in X,” it can be “We’re strong in Y, let’s see what we can do with it!”
For example, I have both played in and GMed small groups that are weak on healing powers. While the typical solution people think of is “Get someone to play a cleric/medic” we explored changing our approach to resolving adventures. Instead of kicking in the doors, getting beat up in the first encounter, and running home constantly– which is what most groups light on healers do– we took a more cautious, plan-ahead approach. We emphasized intelligence gathering activities. This let the characters with face skills shine. And we valued the mindset of “Violence only when peaceful means fail”. This created a rare opportunity for the group’s paladin to shine as a truly three-dimensional character.
Niches are extremely important. They’re key to all forms of storytelling, right down to the stories we tell ourselves to understand who we are and how we relate to the world around us. But an RPG with mechanically enforced niche protection is a society with a rigidly defined caste system.
It’s okay for a while. It’s particularly okay as a learning framework while everyone’s just trying to learn how things work. Character classes are the training wheels of gaming. But I play RPGs to set my imagination free, not to bind it to some stranger’s idea of what would be cool, just because he happens to call himself a game designer.
Describing character classes as “training wheels” could very easily be interpreted as labeling those who enjoy character classes and children who need to grow up. I’m sure that wasn’t the case, but it may unnecessarily irritate the legions of RPG fans who enjoy those games and in some cases have done so for decades.