Beckie Blake, the author of our upcoming RPG Two Sides to the Coin, explores how she came to design a cooperative roleplaying game (with only one winner)… 

 

******************************************************************

The creation of Two Sides begins with a confession. I’d been playing a new rogue character in an RPG, and I was starting to become “that” player. The one who isn’t entirely cooperative. The one that doesn’t always behave. Nobody wants to deliberately sabotage a session, but it got me to thinking – what if that didn’t make other players want to throw metal d4s at your face? What if that was the whole point of the game? And thus, the first stirring of an idea was born.

 

For me, the best part of playing any kind of tabletop game is the interaction between players. I love the back-and-forth, and the whole dynamic of a group. I knew I wanted to include player interactions as well as character interactions in the game, instead of having them be an annoying distraction. Creating something where a little bit of sabotage was encouraged seemed like the perfect fit for the idea. 

I’ve always found writing to be both a therapeutic and practical way to explore creative ideas, so I began with an introductory story. It was a great way to flesh out my idea before trying to work out the mechanics, and I felt it was important to immediately cement the idea of a party working together because they have to, not because they want to. They might cooperate on the surface to get the job done, but they’re still out for themselves. I also wanted to highlight the lightheartedness and fun “gotcha” element, as these would all be central to the game. 

I decided early on that this had to be a rules-light system, and that it would work best run as one-shots rather than an extended campaign. I also wanted it to be playable in any setting, to allow for a bit of variety in each session. I kept the initial character stats simple and decided on a point pool that players could allocate however they liked between those stats, because I still wanted them to have some kind of customisation to make up for the lack of character development available in a one-shot. 

Next, I thought about the concept of a double motive. Characters would have both a cooperative goal, and a selfish one. They wouldn’t necessarily be in conflict (unless you wanted them to be) but would allow for characters to have their own agenda to try and swing the game in their favour. To make it even more chaotic, I decided to give players their own motives, too. Little things they had to get other players to do during the session. I worked on a “calling out” system, where they could declare if they thought someone else was up to no good, with rewards/penalties to be applied depending on the outcome of those calls. Players would earn points for achieving their own motives without being caught, which could be tallied at the end. The concept of scoring birthed the tagline – a cooperative roleplaying game with only one winner. 

 

One of the benefits of running a gaming store is that you’ve got a load of willing playtesters right on your doorstep – literally. As soon as I’d got a target-based roll mechanic in place (which included allowing players to “spend” stat points in order to boost their rolls), I set up my first game. It was during this that I knew my concept would work. The players embraced the double-crossing wholeheartedly. They sat around that table, twisted their imaginary waxed moustaches, and well and truly tied each other to the metaphorical train-tracks. After an initial session full of laughter and hijinks the Scooby-Doo gang would have been proud of, it was time to refine some of the rules ready for a second go. 

I hadn’t initially factored in any equipment, and that was the main feedback I got back from my first playtest. People wanted Stuff™. The problem with a system designed to work in any setting, is that the equipment list would be exhaustive. You’d need swords, and laser guns, and flick knives, and baseball bats, and pitchforks, and... To get around this, I created equipment categories with a basic description. “Small projectile weapon” could be a slingshot or a poison dart, or a handgun. “Medium hand weapon” could mean a baseball bat or a battleaxe. Each category offers a certain bonus and takes up a certain amount of a player’s nine equipment slots. Other than that, they can customise their stuff as much as they like. You want to play a barbarian wielding a greatsword with a gleaming ruby set in the hilt, which once belonged to your slain father? You got it! That’ll cost seven equipment slots and give you a +3 to attack rolls. It’s an extra level of personalisation with no extra complications. 

Another thing to tackle was the combat/health system. I’d run the first playtest without one in place, just to see how the general concept went down. With the emphasis being so heavily on the actual roleplaying and player interaction, it couldn't afford to be complex. In the end, I kept the same target-based mechanic as other rolls, with damage being inflicted or healed at a rate of 1 level per number scored above the target. 

 

To finish things off and strengthen the imagery of the titular coins, I added a pool of them to be used a bit like poker chips, to either help or hinder another player. This created a whole new dimension of sneakiness, as these are used in plain view of everyone. There’s no hiding your intentions with the coins!  

After more playtests and more tweaking, I was ready to unleash the chaos on the unsuspecting folks at Osprey. Thankfully, they embraced the concept wholeheartedly, and now we’re almost ready for release! My hopes for the game are that people just have fun with it, and that it brings lots of laughter and plenty of “why, you little...” moments to everyone’s table. 

Two Sides to the Coin is available to pre-order now.