Jay05 wrote:Killer Cyborg wrote:Jay05 wrote:I enjoy the hell out of playing powerful characters, in fact I prefer it.
Not to butt in, but... why exactly?
What's the draw that makes Cosmo-Knights so much more appealing to you than Wilderness Scouts, Line Walkers, etc.?
I've stated in other threads, my view on it is simply this; we live in the real world with real world disabilities or detriments of one type or another. Why the hell would I not want to play a character who has abilities that surpass human vulnerabilities and frailties.
"Why not?" isn't really an answer, it's just another question.
But I'll share my view, since you asked.
Superhuman characters without significant vulnerabilities are often boring and uninspired in my view. They lack significant challenge in the game, so they lack significant opportunity to practice new tactics and new ways of thinking. Such games most often devolve down into what are essentially head-butting contests, where the uber-powerful character attempts to use his uber-powers for everything, and smashes through opposition until he smashes into something tough enough to smash him.
There's no real skill involved as a rule, and nothing particular to take pride in other than character stats... which isn't anything earned, and which doesn't take much in the way of talent, and therefore isn't really anything to take pride in.
In an environment where, without expensive armor or big PPE reserves the classes you describe can be one hit killed by a large amount of adversaries.
Likewise, they can be practically invincible to a wider number of possible adversaries, and can one-hit-kill any number of foes, depending on what they're up against.
And what you're up against is determined by the Game Master, for the most part.
Also, in the real-world and in most movies, heroes can generally be one-hit-killed. But that doesn't stop them from being heroic.
In fact, I'd argue that their very vulnerability creates a good deal of their heroism.
Superman very rarely has his courage tested, for example, because he very rarely runs into anything that's a real threat.
Cops and soldiers, on the other hand, could get taken out pretty much at any time.
There is a certain issue of survivability. If thinking about not having to roll another PC up after a character I've put work into ends up dead makes me a munchkin well alright then. I guess I have a lot of experience with killer GMs. Of course we're speaking Rifts specifically. Playing in an SDC environment however I actually enjoy playing the "Street level" characters (physical training,special training, etc)
To be clear; I'm not calling you a Munchkin. I'm simply trying to determine why you're drawn to certain characters that I have rarely found much appeal in.
And you answer, especially this last part, does shed some light on the subject; I've had some similar experiences.
In D&D 3.x, I played for a couple years with a group where TPKs were not unusual, either because the GM misjudged the power level of the bad guys, or because the PCs charged in recklessly and refused to retreat.
In those games, I would very often try to make as powerful of a character as I could within the constraints of the scenario, but would downplay the power level in order to deceive the GM.
The result was that instead of knowing my actual power level, then misjudging it and throwing threats at me that were completely overwhelming, he would end up underestimating my power level and throwing threats against me that were actually pretty appropriate.
The GMs' actions weren't done out of malice or anything, but rather from what I view as a misplaced perception of how difficult encounters should be. The GMs' perceptions seemed to be that every encounter should have a significant chance of killing one of us, even if we played with an appropriate amount of skill. Kind of a "50% chance of winning is a fair fight" kind of mentality.
So I think that your answer has provided the kind of clarity that I was looking for.
)to cut it down, I simply highlighted in blue the part of the post I am questioning.
