Models of High-Level Play
Assuming a long-term campaign, it’s common to divide the game into “low-level” and “high-level” play, but what this means has historically been interpreted several ways. I propose a loose classification of those models here also propose a new model of high-level play, based on the mechanics of RuneScape.
"How do i get an octopus cloud"
Default Play
By default, the game continues forever, functionally the same as it always was. Challenges and power scale, but are fundamentally similar. To paraphrase an essay that I can no longer find,1 “In Diablo, fighting a level 1 skeleton at first level feels exactly the same as fighting a level 20 skeleton at twentieth level.”
This model easily fits simple games that are focused on low-level, one-shot, or picaresque play. This is what I think the “end game” of Mothership and Troika, or even Fate might be. There is no “state change” between high and low levels.
"Yall need to chill"
Domain-Level Play
In early editions of D&D, high-level play uses different rules than low-level play. The goal is no longer to accumulate wealth, but to create, expand, and maintain “domains.” Fighters build castles and manage baronies, clerics attract pilgrims and run cults, and as these two classes change scale geographically, magic users change scale temporally, spending weeks to years in the crafting of magic items. This is partly possible because of D&D’s origins in Chainmail, a skirmish-level game. Just as Chainmail can be scaled down to model a handful of heroes fighting a single monster, it can also be scaled up to support a loose 4X style of play, focusing on important conflicts and abstracting the rest.2
Unlike default play, domain-level play has a sharp transition between the two phases.
"Can i have the dhide"
Epic-Level Play
Later editions of D&D have a different model of high-level play, perhaps the “default” equivalent of more heroic or fantastical systems. As characters grow in level, they gain new and more powerful abilities. Eventually players can fly or teleport; they can divine the locations of hidden things, detect lies, fight the whole city guard at once, hide from an eagle in a field on a clear day. The distinguishing feature of this mode is that certain classes of problem are completely side-stepped.
This is the end-game of D&D 3.X and 5e and Pathfinder 1e, but also I think of some OSR systems like the GLoG. While it doesn’t have a distinct transition, I think people commonly consider things like flight and teleportation to be milestones in this type of game.
"Walk here Pull Levcer (level-57)"
Immortal-Level Play
There is also a less common form of high-level play that is similar to epic-level in its power creep, and similar to domain-level in its phase change, which I am calling “immortal-level” after the Immortals set in BECMI. In this model, high level players get abilities that fundamentally change the rules and scope of the game. In some instances they become god-like, but it could be smaller, for example, “the PCs find a Death Note.” Similar to epic-level play, immortals can easily bypass some problems, so they’re free to focus on what I like to think of as “Superman” problems—ethical dilemmas, unintended consequences, considering legacy and impact, and so on.
It’s also possible to just play games that start here, in the same way that you could play a 4X game instead of leveling up your D&D characters until domain-level. A good example of this is The Infinity Hotel by Martin O.
In modern D&D, as far as I can tell, this model has been mostly dropped in favor of ever-more epic and challenging battles which do not fundamentally change the gameplay loop.
"Google it"
Renowned-Level Play
I think RuneScape can provide a model of a different type of end-game, which gradually transitions into a domain-level game.3 This is achieved through rewards that “shrink” the map, tasks that recur regularly or on a schedule, and the opportunity for productive distraction. I’m naming it “renowned-level,” as it centers around PCs gradually learning about the world and the world responding to the PCs in turn.
At higher levels in RuneScape, the most important rewards you can get aren’t skill levels or equipment, but access. It starts small: become friendly with the city of Al Kharid and they’ll waive their tolls. Then it grows in scope: save a gnome village from a warlord and they’ll let you use their “spirit tree” teleportation network. Eventually you’re working on a game map that’s effectively been warped by your deeds, hard-won shortcuts folding and abridging space as you chart and optimize courses all across Gielinor.
Ongoing rewards are important to the gameplay loop, more than to the player. After you ease Bert’s mind about a body in his sand pit, he will gratefully deliver large amounts of sand to your bank once a day, as long as you stop by his house. Some of the best farming experience comes from growing trees that can take days of real time to mature and which need to be monitored in the interim. The way that RuneScape handles “proper” domain-level play is also similar to this: when you become the ruler of a kingdom, a regent rules in your stead, and as long as you periodically make appearances around the kingdom, you’re free to continue adventuring, sometimes conduct diplomacy, and periodically return to collect raw materials and goods that your subjects have saved for you.4
Finally, RuneScape tends to lack strong time pressures. So as you are gallivanting around checking in on acquaintances, old friends, creditors, and debtors, it’s no big deal if something catches your attention, like a fallen star or a traveling circus, or if you have some other things to investigate along the way like an unfinished treasure trail.
These factors combine into an appealing endgame construct, but it may take work to adapt it to a TTRPG. Access rewards are appealing but reliant on the map and setting conventions, and need to be carefully considered. The “dailies” of an MMO are basically unexciting in a TTRPG and I think they could be replaced with serial appointments, specific to the campaign. That is, instead of “every day I can make you a special pie,” we say “come back for the harvest festival and I can show you how special pies are made.” Distractions, as described here, are functionally just interesting or useful random events, but could also be additional goals, other appointments on the way, or just points of interest on the map.
This may ultimately require the players to agree to spend more time plotting courses and budgeting resources and maybe it wouldn’t be as exciting as I hope. At the very least (as with most of this series), it would take some buy-in. But I think this could be overcome with a good map and a gradual accumulation of access rewards and appointments, so that the “phase change” of domain-level play is never felt. Ideally, this alternative end-game model could be sustained with relatively little effort.
Finally, I didn’t find any cute phrases on which to throw a hyperlink to the previous post in this series, Defining Terms. But if you read it, I hope you can see why it felt important to organize those thoughts first, even if the post itself ended up slightly disjointed.
"Did you take my visafe"
The Illustrations
The illustrations in this post are super-compressed jpegs of funny (YMMV) RuneScape images and memes. I did it with imagemagick, but I have since lost the exact command.
"Am i beign detained"
An “Update”
Unexpectedly, in the window between writing and posting this, Josh at Rise Up Comus shared their own outline of their own similar ideas. It’s really good. I’d say you should have read it first, but it’s too late for that, so you should read it now.
Look, is it possible that Josh was adopted under mysterious circumstances following a covered-up incident at the Montauk Air Force Station in April 1989, and that he can unconsciously pluck ideas out of the Akashic Twitter feed? Do we know for a fact that Josh was not undercover on the campus of UMass Lowell c. 2013 sabotaging research into a revolutionary “aero-polymer,” when he overheard me poorly articulating these ideas to my roommate? Can we say for sure that Hasbro isn’t manipulating the mainstream media to synchronize the private Jungian narratives of small-time game bloggers in order to make us all look foolish and uncreative? Some questions we can never know the answers to.
What stands out to me about Josh’s piece (in addition to the things he said better than me) is how similar it is. The details differ: I don’t distinguish “deep growth” from “player skill,” for example. But the observations are all the same: certain kinds of advancement are underwhelming. The “endgame shift” is hard to pull off directly, but in practice can be achieved by powers that negate certain types of challenge. I think his insights and conclusions are not only compatible with mine, but complementary, and worth remembering as I continue this project.
"Just think once before you speak please"
Please tell me if you know what this is from.↩︎
The most thorough and accessible form of these early rules that I’ve found is Fantastic Medieval Campaigns by Marcia B.↩︎
I say “can provide” because I don’t think RuneScape actually accomplishes this itself, but it suggests the possibility. Once again, please bear in mind that this is the RuneScape of my memory, which truly, never existed all at once.↩︎
I don’t know if this meshes well with the scheme I’m outlining here, but it’s an example of an ongoing reward, at least.↩︎