A recent thread over at RPGNet reminded me of something I’d heard long ago. I can’t remember the game designer that said it or the exact quote, but it went along the lines of “the problem with Western RPGs is that there are two types of characters; the good gunfighters and the dead ones.” Highlander, obviously, presents a similar problem.
This “Cowboy Syndrome” is difficult to shake once you’ve introduced a campaign where it’s clearly beneficial to max out one or two skills, as the majority of the setting focuses on those skills. In spite of any attempts to enforce “balanced” characters, your players are going to instinctively push those numbers up. Even if you do manage to maintain balance during character creation, you can bet that your players are going to spend the bulk of their XP pumping up the ‘prime’ skills.
While having high scores isn’t in and of itself a problem, it can limit the types of adventures you can run. Maxed out characters often have deficiencies elsewhere, and it can be hard to run investigative adventures with characters that have little to no skill in such matters. Paradoxically, combats tend to be even more risky, as the arms race encourages you to put all of the NPCs at the same level as the maxed-out PCs (and the players will cry foul if every NPC seems to have a higher score).
Here are some ways over the years that I’ve used to alleviate Cowboy Syndrome. Many of these can (and have been) be used together.
Take the skill out of their hands.
One of the brilliant things about all versions of Dungeons and Dragons (at least up through 3.5) is that combat skills aren’t purchased; each character level grants a particular competency. This competency, of course, may be modified by ability scores, but those scores are usually left to random chance or a point-buy system that prevents maxing out all relevant attributes.
Similarly, you can presume a particular competency for your PCs out of the gate. You may even allow them to barter away that competency for upgrades elsewhere on the sheet. By establishing a competency, it’s easier for you to scale the opposition accordingly.
Parse the skills.
If gunfighting plays a big part in your game, ensure that there are multiple skills that a PC needs to be reasonably proficient with. Riding would be very important for mobile gunfights, and Hide and Sneak would be important if a PC wants to get close to an outlaw stronghold without getting picked off by a rifleman. Also, some towns in the Old West required that guns be checked before entering town, increasing the desirability of other combat skills (or at least a good Conceal skill).
Highlander-style immortals also have to worry about things like carrying swords through secure areas (or pumping up an improvised weapons skill – you never know when an immortal is going to jump you as you’re leaving a nightclub!). You’ll also need other skills to protect your freedom; the police are going to get curious if you were at the same time and place as the last three beheadings.
Another way to parse skills is to subdivide an important skill into several. Rather than a single weapon skill, the skill is subdivided into Swing, Thrust, Parry, and Evade. Some games, such as All for One: Regime Diabolique and virtually every unarmed martial arts RPG may offer bonuses or penalties to particular combat actions based on the PC’s fighting style.
Accept that the PCs can be the best if they want, but emphasize other aspects of life.
So your PC is the greatest gunfighter in the territory. How does that help when she comes across someone falsely accused of a crime and likely to hang for it? If workers are stuck in a collapsing silver mine, how is the PCs’ sweet gunfighting skill going to help him navigate the dangers?
Similarly, adventures can simply revolve around the PCs trying to maintain normal lives and relationships with their “special ability” providing complications. Loved ones can be threatened, duels could break out at inopportune times, and PCs may find themselves caught red-handed in some way (maybe someone took a camera vid of a magical duel or the PC left her fingerprints all over the scene).
A word of caution here; some players are going to feel like the campaign is a bait-and-switch if they don’t get to use their abilities. Be sure to sprinkle in plenty of opportunities for them to show-off during the campaign.
Divorce the skills from usual point-buy and XP
Rather than allow the PCs to increase skills through points, there may be other things they need to do to increase their best skills. Perhaps, as per Basic Roleplaying, they need to actually use the skill in order to get a bump. Or, in AD&D monk fashion, they need to beat a higher level opponent in order to advance. Maybe there’s a ceiling on the skill, and only seeking out particular ‘masters’ can enable PCs to increase their rank in certain skills.
Play an RPG where the points don’t matter.
Some game engines utilize different rules that make high skills less important. In Primetime Adventures, a PC’s importance in a particular adventure affects the dice rolls rather than skill numbers. Smallville concentrates on the relationships between characters to generate dice rolls. Using systems like these allow players to keep the conceit that they’re masters of their craft while approaching the campaign from a fresh angle.
Don’t give them the skill at all out of the gate.
This is a bit of a radical suggestion, but suitable for games where PCs suddenly find themselves as part of a world that never existed. Modern Highlander immortals are rarely master swordsmen when they first ‘die,’ and modern characters that discover they have fae blood in their veins probably weren’t practicing magic previously. This option offers the opportunity for many interesting adventures as PCs have to come to grips with the new reality while learning the basics.
These are some of the techniques I’ve used; how about you? Is Cowboy Syndrome a problem in your games? If so, what attempts have you made to alleviate it? How well have those attempts worked?
I suppose the best way I have had with making sure that players didn’t dump all of their stats into one skill was to be up front with them about the types of challenges they could reasonably expect during that campaign. If I told them at the very beginning that their chosen skill wasn’t going to come up as often as their investment indicated they thought it was going to, then it was not my fault that they were likely to be handicapped during the rest of the campaign (I know that sentence is weird, but I can’t think of how to revise it). Furthermore, the rest of the group would often express displeasure if a player were selfish and tried something like this.
On the other hand, having said all of that, it is reasonable for a player to expect ‘niche protection’ for his/her chosen area of expertise. If they are ‘the gunfighter’ for the party, someone else in the party having a skill that rivals theirs is usually viewed as a threat, unless it can be arranged for them to have a ‘friendly rivalry,’ which is kind of unusual in my experience.
In those few times when I was unable to dissuade a player focusing on just one skill, I usually didn’t have to do anything to convince them that they made a mistake, the other players will be fairly merciless about how useless the character is in any other situation than the one they focused for. And at those times, we usually do a ret con and allow the player to tweak the character to make it a bit more balanced.
Another great article. I particularly like the “play an RPG where the points don’t matter” paragraph. I’d add that a lot of RPGs are essentially set up so that players advance by doing damage (ie fighting monsters). This means that before they’ve even agreed to play they’re combat-heavy, and as such their points aren’t going to be balanced with all story concepts. Now, sometimes we and the players WANT to kick some butt- and that’s great. But sometimes the game itself just doesn’t work with the plot that we want to share with them, and we need to feel comfortable exploring other game options with our players rather than trying to force the current game.
One of the reasons for the Cowboy Syndrome is the setting itself. Classic “Wild West” stories revolve around just two archetypes: the villain, and the hero gunslinger. Oddly the villain has more breadth, as the villain may be a gun master himself or may be a malicious banker or lawyer or industry magnate who hires gunmen to do his bidding. But the hero always makes his stand with a gun.
Rather than elaborate on mechanical ways to stop the players from maxing out the same one or two skills it’s critical to create a game setting in which more than one narrow skill set actually matters. Classic AD&D began with four: the fighter, thief, wizard, and cleric. If your story setting doesn’t support at least 4 skillsets worth playing you may have a problem. I think that need for character variety is why many of the Old West style RPGs became more like “Sixguns and Sorcery”.
I agree; the lack of differentiation can be tricky. Or, just as bad, is when you CAN differentiate characters… but the one player who picks the “survive violence” skill gets to stay alive. If the team has one good tracker, then you’ll find the bad guys, but one bad gunfighter can let the opponents deal out much more damage over the course of the combat.
Can you link me to this Highlander RPG that you keep bring up?
There is no official Highlander RPG at this point. There have been several fan-made versions (at least one for Storyteller and d20; I’m sure there are others you’ll find with a quick web search).
The closest published game is Legacy: War of Ages. It’s still available on RPGNow.
http://www.rpgnow.com/product/64385/Legacy-Basic-Edition?term=Legacy+War+
Sometimes when starting a campaign it can also be helpful to clearly state the “average” level of skill the standard mook is likely to possess.
Using cortex Rules as an example, if the average basic bad guy in the western rpg has agility and firearms at d6’s then the players likely won’t feel a driving need to boost their pistol skills beyond a d8 range to feel they have a sufficient edge of the opposition rather then attempt to pump it up to d10 or d12.
One could also add in a upper skill cap house rule similar to the Shadowruns 4th edition ruleset where in a characters skill in a given proficiency cannot exceed its related attribute rating. (I.E if you have a quickness of 4 you cannot have any broad skill rating that relies on quickness higher than 4)
This forces players to more evenly split their level up advancements between attributes (which usually cost more to increase) and skills, making it harder to reach heights of excellence in one or two skills very quickly.
I really like your first answer. It works well for many systems like Savage Worlds and FATE. Being upfront about how the campaign is expected to play out is great for managing the problem. I didn’t think about straight up telling the players “Most guys are only going to have a d6 in their skills or a d8 if they are good. You don’t need to go nuts with the d10 and d12 skills.”
I don’t really agree with this assertion. No player who is seriously concerned with his character’s level of prowess is going to stop at a d8 just because you tell him that the “average” badguy has a d6. First, they’re going to say “Well crap, that means we have no advantage at all against someone who is at all above average” and then they’ll probably look and going “Even against average guys, d8 vs d6 isn’t a very big advantage and the dice could easily hose us.”
While telling the players the ‘average’ may EVENTUALLY convince them to stop, it’s more likely to convince them to keep pushing that stat until they KNOW they can blow up whatever gets in their way.
At least, if you’re dealing with players who play this way at all. If you’re not, this who discussion becomes somewhat irrelevant.