…or why do your characters matter?

The American Heritage Dictionary defines reach /rēch/ as an intransitive verb meaning 1. To stretch out or put forth (a body part); extend, “reached out an arm.” 2. To touch or grasp by stretching out or extending, “can’t reach the shelf.” 3. To arrive at; attain “reached their destination; reached a conclusion.”

This is a difficult one. I had thought about breaking with how characters can embody these terms and talk about the reach of games themselves, but that gave me the hook I needed for this piece. How much influence on the world do characters actually have? What is their reach? What is their impact? What should it be?

In many fantasy or science fiction stories, the hero(es) wind up having an outsize impact on the world. From pastoral hobbits drawn into possibly world-ending war, or Paul Atreides’ prescience, whose actions permanently change the path of history; to the legacy of James T. Kirk or actions of the Avatar in the series, whose exploits become unforgettable historical touchstones — larger than life characters reshape their worlds for a time, or permanently. Now compare that to that private detective who tried to stop the moral decay around him in that particular case that gets under his skin…but who might die unremarked, or whose efforts, ultimately, are forgotten because “Forget, Jake; it’s Chinatown…” — characters who win a small battle, but which is ultimately lost in the currents of time.

What should be the reach of the characters be? That depends on how epic you want your campaign to be, I suppose. For the epic fantasy world, the characters could rise to godlike levels — be the Alexander the Great of your world, whose influence continues for millennia. Or, it could be a simple pastoral adventurer who goes on little adventures to save his village or local area, becoming a local legend that maybe is a footnote in the history of your world.

This is exactly the question for my Legend in the Mist campaign that has just rolled out. Set in 800 AD Norway and later Britain, it follows a group of Vikings that get their start with a spectacularly lucky win over a troll, and who are now tasked by the local giantess (gygr in old Norse) to combat the sweep of the “interloping god” in Brtiain. They’re about a half century ahead of Harald Fairhair (the first-ish king of Norway) and many of the Scandinavians that will wind up ruling Ireland, and portions of England and Scotland. So…do they wind up footnotes in history? Do their conquests get things rolling for those who come after? Are they, perhaps, forgotten by better PR for Harald? Or do we have our own alternate history where the Harald Thorsson and Trogdor Trollmorder lead the Vikings to triumph over the Britons and Franks? When it’s your own world, it’s up to you and how epic you want your heroes to be.

In spy game or a noir detective game like Blacksad, the hero is often supposed to be unsung in their efforts. Even James Bond, “that British spy — from England” was only “[in]famous” to others in his world. John Wick brings down multiple dark overlords in the movie series, but outside of the (wildly extensive) world of assassins…was he known, at all? In fact, in the ‘80s James Bond: 007 RPG, fame was a negative that could work against you in the field. Part of being a secret agent is the “secret” part. For detectives outside of Hercule Poirot or Sherlock Holmes, you might be known in your industry or particular town but that was about it. You might have moments of fame, like that cop at the Nakatomi Tower, but people have a short memory.

The question of what reach characters should have becomes more tricky in licensed universes like Star Trek or Babylon 5, Lord of the Rings or Alien, for example. In these universes, certain things happen in an order. The hero characters do certain things that are important not just to the plot, but to world around them. For instance, in Lord of the Rings RPG, much of the action happens in the interstices of Tolkein’s history of Middle Earth. You could play a character in the events of The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings, but unless you are committed to an alternate universe, you will never save Minas Tirith, destroy the One Ring, etc… Playing Babylon 5 (either the Mongoose version or the odd Chameleon Eclectic version), the events of the show would most likely be playing out in the background. You could play in the corners — maybe fighting the clark regime and linking up with the main characters from the show, you could play a little know human colony fighting on the edges of the Shadow War; you could be a soldier in the actions of the show itself — but you aren’t going to end the war or create the Interstellar Alliance (again, if you aren’t just going for an alternate universe). 

But how far was Ripley’s reach in the Alien francise? She was the last survivor of a doomed ship that almost no one listened to. She saved a few people at LV-426, but if you keep in the universe, all that is summarily undone by Alien 3 and for the most part, she’s had minor influence outside the events of Alien: Resurrection. The world around trundles on. you might be another influential crew in Star Trek, but — again, unless you’re doing an alternate universe — they’ll always be overshadowed by Enterprise or Voyager. That could actually play into how the characters view their game — “Damn it! We saved a race from a computer that was keeping everyone young and healthy, but we got slagged by Starfleet for not providing support after we blew up their computer god.”

So, the notion of reach, or the scale of your game, is a good thing to keep in mind as you design a campaign, be it your own Dungeons & Dragons setting, or your next Ghost in the Shell game (now doing a Backerkit campaign — the system looks intriguing!)