Years back our group found Fellowship, the best PbtA game we've played before or since. We played it a bunch and had a lot of fun with how versatile of a framework it provides. We used it for Star Wars, Transformers, Exalted and heck, even Warhammer 40k. Which is why it was a surpsise for us to hear some people bounce from it because it was "just generic fantasy" and not looking past the genre box they put the game in to see what it is trying to do underneath the surface.
But since we have a good deal of experience reflavouring RPGs to suit what we need, let's talk about the issue more broadly! Let's talk about how you can look past the game's exterior and possibly have more fun tailoring the game to your needs!
When an Elf is not an Elf - Fellowship's Playbooks
The main way Fellowship seems to have lead people astray is with some of its names. The game itself brings to mind the Fellowship of the Ring book, and if you look at its Playbooks you see such fantasy staples as Elf, Dwarf, Halfling, Orc, etc. You glance at the surface and think to yourself "yup, this sure is a generic fantasy game drawing from everyone's first fantasy book inspiration" and if you're not in the mood for playing fantasy you move on. But the looks can be deceiving!
So for example, let's look at the Elf Playbook. Here is most of what it can do:
The Elven Core Moves is the baseline for the Playbook - the Elf can use magic to hide, see well, sense magic and send messages. It also can move without leaving a trail. The Elven Custom Moves further enhance these abilities and also gives them an option to be a performer.
On the surface it's pretty Tolkien-esque elf stuff. Wield a bow, climb some trees, attack unseen, etc. But we need to look past what the flavour and theming of the mechanics is and look at what you can actually do with this mechanical set!
Because you see, with the same set of mechanics you are not only describing Legolas, but also Solid Snake, the Predator and the hecking Batman. Any character that focuses on stealth and ranged attacks can easily slot into this Playbook. If you need to add some other character-specific doodad like Batman's wealth or gadgets you can do so with the Half-Elf Custom.
Sure looks like an Elf, even has pointy ears!
The same treatment can be applied to all the other Playbooks. Dwarves are characters that are tough and into clearing a path forward (like, say, a footbal quarterback), Halflings are sneaky tricksters that like fighting big things (like Antman), Orcs are people that fight with whatever they can kitbash together (like a LEGO Master Builder).
Heck, grab the right expansion and Playbooks for Fellowship and you can just straight up play Star Trek with it...
But this idea of reflavouring mechanics and character concepts doesn't just apply to games like Fellowship. We've done it elsewhere too!
Mechanics vs flavour - Blackstar and cybernetics in SWN
A while back we played a game of Stars Without Number called Blackstar. Midway through the game we wanted to make an introduce new combat character. The character was going to be a cool cybered-up mercenary, but then when we looked at the cybernetic loadouts available in the game we were rather underwhelmed. They were prohibitively expensive for a starting level character and not as cost efficient as just getting regular gear to do similar combat stuff (these things got addressed a bit in Cities Without Number years later).
But we found a clever workaround. All we wanted was for the character to be tough and be able to punch things really well, and what covered all of our needs were the Foci the characters could take - Ironhide and Unarmed Combatant. Thematically those are there to represent some kind of space shaolin monks or tough aliens, but there isn't really anything stopping you from saying those represent your character's cyberware. You get the mechanics you need and keep the flavour you wanted without having to deal with the cumbersome cybernetics system or getting any kind of mechanical advantage over a regular character.
Cybernetics? Nah, just Foci!
Conclusions
While you don't want to carelessly mess with game's mechanics while trying to make it fit the story you want to play, reflavouring existing mechanics to suit your needs works quite well with many games. When you're trying to customize a game like that, don't look at its aesthetical trappings, but instead at what the game wants to be mechanically.
And as for Fellowship, from what I've been hearing its third edition is currently in the works that might address some of the leading names for the Playbooks. Currently its Elf is the Star, Halfing is the Rascal, Dwarf is the Mountain, Orc is War Torn and so on.
So fingers crossed the game gets the recognition and accolades it deserves!
Recently, I've watched Dimension 20's Fantasy High Season 1, and the show's first two episodes really encapsulate why Dungeons & Dragons is awful for Actual Plays.
Some disclaimers and qualifiers before I get further. I'm not hating on Dimension 20 (I've seen a few of their shows and I do enjoy them for what they are), the people involved (I've enjoyed their performance through that show), or saying that you shouldn't play D&D (although there are so many better options...). I'm focusing precisely on Dungeons & Dragons as a framework for a gaming performance in the format of a video or audio Actual Play. I'm also speaking as someone that has 5 years of doing their own Actual Plays and as someone that has watched a few APs in their time.
So without further ado, let's talk about Fantasy High (spoiler warning for various episodes of the series, as well as some Escape from the Bloodkeep).
Fantasy High
Fantasy High is a show about a group of adventurers going to an adventuring academy, a fantasy high school where you learn how to be an adventurer, filled with all of the D&D races and classes. A pretty okay setup that gets elevated by the amount of colourful characters that populate the school and the nearby town. From an ice-cream djinn, through a chill werewolf guidance councillor, down to anarcho-socialist halfling family. The player characters are also a colourful cast - you have spoiled rich son of a pirate, a gentle half orc barbarian that doesn't want to hurt anyone, a rebellious tiefling bard going through some issues after her horns recently came in and her dad learned he has been cucked, etc. All in all, the characters are really interesting, the performance through the entire show has been great, I could listen to these things all day with glee. That is, if it wasn't for the second half.
Dimension 20 has a formula for their shows. You usually have two kinds of episode formats that keep alternating - a free form roleplaying with some light checks and conflicts, and then the big set piece fights. They are gorgeous to look at, featuring large customised areas, a lot of unique minis and so on:
The craft on display is phenomenal, there is no denying that. Dimension 20 has taken the D&D formula of "minis fighting" and made the best version of that I have seen. However, it still doesn't solve the issue of this being D&D that we're talking about. So let's set the scene:
It's episode 2 of Fantasy High. All the PCs got into detention for one reason or another. You could run it as your stereotypical "detention bad, the teacher running it is a warden, everything sucks", but no, Dimension 20 is better than that (heck, they even work with sensitivity consultants, kudos to them!), and the guidance councillor starts encouraging the PCs to talk about their feelings, whether they have trouble at home, etc. It's a tiny one minute of a show, but it showed potential, especially when one of the characters started opening up about their issue at home (it was the tiefling, now living alone with her mother who she's on a war path with since she won't tell her anything about her real father). But just as that's about to happen, we hear screams from the cafeteria and it's off to fight we go!
In the cafeteria we find a large cream corn monster, a possessed lunch lady, and a bunch of animated corn cobs, and we have ourselves a level 1 adventurer fight. What follows is a series of mishaps, bad rolls and just a lot of what could go wrong does go wrong. The tiefling gets knocked out cold at the start of the fight, and through the rest of the encounter, that player sits there and stews, unable to contribute anything but quips about how people should throw her body around (I don't hold anything against the player there, it did look frustrating!). A few others, including a swashbuckling jock son of a pirate repeatedly have problems climbing the tables and lose a good deal of health and turns because of that. Enemies start multiplying to the point they murder two player characters (and they do fail their death saving throws and actually die). A prissy elven wizard is reduced to bludgeoning the lunchlady to death with a magical spatula and her scepter (the lunchlady has been the tiefling's freshly adopted role model, since she was going through a rebellious spell and respected a blue collar worker for being the only honest person in the school), with her dying words telling the elf to remember that she killer her with her own hands.
I'm going to leave out the number of times people have been going in and out of many of the cream monster's buttholes, and just skip to the end where the heroes manage to defeat it. Since this is a show that's built on the characters that were just introduced and two of them have died, the GM has to pull out a deus ex resurrection to put the show back on the road. Not to make it consequence-free however, they have the quirky principal of the school (if Dumbledore was a bit more peppy but also a D&D character) murder the soft-spoken guidance councillor with a gun before committing a suicide and using a phoenix egg to resurrect the two PCs - a life for a life. At this moment the tiefling player still upset about having to sit in the time-out through the encounter wants to also commit suicide to bring back the lunchlady, but since they are unconscious they don't get their wish.
So all of that fight was a big clusterfuck, pretty much all due to D&D's rules. So let's start breaking things down.
Failures of D&D
Character death vs character-driven show
Dimension 20 is a pretty character-driven show. One of its core appears is that you can count on there being a cast of colourful characters at the table, portrayed by some very talented people, and through the show you get to have some of their problems, arcs and so on come to the forefront. For example, initially I disliked one of the PCs being your stereotypical born-again-bible-thumping-christian-coded girl that worshipped the Corn God. It felt too much like the proselytising type trope at the outset. However, through the serie she started reflecting on her life after having a brief death experience and realising the Corn God is a bit of a douche-bro and can't answer the problem of evil. Later she realises she has been raised in a fundamental family, been part of a religious extremist cult and discovers herself anew. It's really great.
D&D, however, is not a game that promotes that. Rules as written, the characters can die pretty much during any fight and you're not really meant to get too attached to them. Heck, one of the reason why "grognard" is associated with the game is because it's kind of like going to a ruthless war - what's the point of getting attached to the new level 1 guy if he's going to bite the dust during the first fight. Nobody cares about your backstory until you're level 3 and can survive an encounter with a rat.
Sure, that can be okay to play if you're into that, and the more recent editions of the game have softened the danger a little bit, but trying to do a character-centric game in D&D is still a liability if you don't fudge things or have some convenient way of bringing the characters back.
And for those that think that a story without the stake of character death is meaningless or the like - watch any popular movie. You know going into like, any Marvel movie that no character there will randomly die without a proper payoff and definitely not before their arc is over. You know Thor won't be Ragnarok'ed and will be there for the next movie. You still get invested.
Incompetence, coolness and stunting
D&D is awful when it comes to character competency due to its linear rolls. Chances are whatever you try doing at level 1 you will fail. It's not a game that wants you to be a cool badass, it's a game that wants to watch you faceplant into the floor whenever you try something.
Part of it is its approach to how it handles cool actions. When you declare that you will do something cool, like swinging down a chandelier and leaping from one table to the next before backflipping over the enemy to stab them in the back, the game expects your GM to make you roll to see if you pull it off and tell you "no" if you fail a roll. If you do the most boring action though ("I move forward and attack"), you don't have to roll anything special.
The thing is, you do want the characters to show off how cool they are. It makes the game more interesting, and definitely more fun to listen to! So don't penalise them, don't make them roll and fail, heck, give them bonuses for being cool! That's one of the things I enjoyed about Exalted - stunting. Basically, the cooler you described your action the bigger bonus you got. A lot of the players in Fantasy High could easily do really cool stunts and the game would've been even more cool for it (as it stands, it's only so cool with a pirate jock riding a hellbeast motocycle onto a stone golem to do a cool stunt on its back's half-pipe to throw it into a pit of acid...).
Rolls are boring, damage is mostly meaningless
When playing D&D, you spend a lot of time rolling dice, especially in combat. Add situations where those rolls get more complicated, such as with the use of inspiration (and if you take a shot each time someone on the show gets an inspiration you will get pretty drunk...), and you spend a lot of time rolling your math rocks.
Sure, this is fun when you're actually doing it yourself, but for a viewer, the rolls are only interesting if they are high-stakes, or someone ends up rolling a botch or a crit. Sooner than later individual rolls stop mattering, since a character suffering 5 points of damage out of their 80HP pool is just noise.
Once again, Dimension 20 does the best with what they have. They put visuals up to illustrate people's health as it changes and make the process as engaging as possible, which is commendable, but such edits are someone's job there. It would be quite a bit of extra work for anyone that is not doing this as a full-time job.
In general, it's much more interesting to play a game like D&D than to actually watch the game being played - passive vs active engagement and all that. You will have to put in a lot more work to get some interesting content.
Fights and rolls create funny moments, not interesting stories
A good RPG system helps you create interesting stories and character moments. Unfortunately, D&D combat isn't that great for it. Sure, it can create funny moments, and sometimes cool moments, but they are rarely interesting stories, despite how much time you're devoting to it.
For perhaps the best illustration of it, I'll have to turn to Dimension 20's other show, Escape from the Bloodkeep. It's a show where the PCs are knockoff evil characters from knockoff Lord of the Rings fighting the heroes. Many times in that show the Witch-king of Angmar would face off against Samwise Gamgee, who was armed only with a frying pan and a whole heap of enthusiasm. The thing is, the hobbit had such high stats that he would routinely stand his ground against the Witch-king and batter him pretty handily with that frying pan, turning their fights into some slapstick Bugs Bunny skit, all because the Witch-King couldn't kill this one halfing. Was it funny? Yes. Was it an interesting story? Not really. It was slapstick. Unfortunately, that's about as much as D&D gives you.
Sure, everyone has an awesome story about how one roll change the course of their game's history, or how they rolled an impossible roll and just dominated some situation. However, those are often stories about a single cool moment, not big interesting stories. Sure, it can be a fun entertainment to see your enemy roll nat 20 and then you matching it with your own nat 20 and the table exploding with emotions, but it's kind of like action for action's sake in a movie - entertainment without a deeper meaning.
Sitting in the death roll penalty box
Many times during the Fantasy High run the characters ended up at death's door, having to roll their death saving throws and not getting to do much. Again, the worst offender was Episode 2 where the tiefling player pretty much had to sit out the entire fight in the penalty box just because they got KOd early and nobody could heal her. You could see and hear the player's frustration with the system and being an unconscious deadweight in the corner of the room. Again, I don't fault the player for any of that - it's the system that creates these scenarios.
When you play a game, you don't want to have to sit and do nothing. Being forced to skip your turns is one of the least fun things because you don't even get to have to focus on coming up with strategies on how to not lose. And if you are doing a show professionally and have some actual actors on your show, you don't want them to sit by the table and not act out their character. It's not fun for them, and you're paying them some good money to sit and do nothing.
Ideally, you'd have a system where characters don't go down that easily and can always contribute something. Fellowship does that pretty well for example - it takes a lot of beating to put someone down (most of the game focuses instead on a death by a thousand cuts, so you know it's coming), and even if you are badly hurt you still have pretty good odds at doing something to contribute to the game.
Regularly scheduled murderhobos
D&D is a game that's focused on combat and murdering enemies. Countless people have pointed out the problematic colonial issues with that, and how Gygax essentially says Paladins would be okay with the Sand Creek Massacre. So how do you square that with a fantasy 50s americana setting of Fantasy High? The answer apparently is - you don't.
While you can gloss over killing of corn cuties and other monsters, the things get problematic when you are fighting humanoid NPCs, especially when they are a part of the same school the PCs go to. Unfortunately, Dimension 20 being a D&D show and one with an episode structure of there being a fight every second episode, there are some times when things get really iffy if you think about them.
In Episode 3 the PCs learn of Johnny Spells, a greaser teen that likes to hit on high school girls despite not going to the school. They get some cryptic message telling them to investigate him to try finding some lost girls. At the end of the episode they find him in his greaser joint with his buddies doing some aggressive dance routines. Overall, the character came off as a cross between someone cool and kind of creepy, but it's never really been established by that point that he was a scumbag or anything.
But oh no, the clock is ticking and it's almost the end of the talking and investigation episode, and you know what that means, it's time to start your regularly scheduled fight. The format must remain unchanged, and a lot of people have put in a lot of hard work to make some cool minis, so instead of confronting Johnny and trying to figure out what his deal is, or even getting the magic mcguffin they came in here for, the team decides to steal the mcguffin and the keys to Johnny's car and book it.
Episode 4 is a street race fight, where the PCs fight Johnny and his gang that are trying to get his car back. This being D&D of course involves a good deal of violence, since the mechanics inform the playstyle. So the PCs murder a group of teens after stealing their ride really for no reason at all, other than this is a Dimension 20 show and the episode number is even, so we have to fight.
And again, I'm not saying that Dimension 20 did a bad job at making the fight itself entertaining to watch, or that the minis weren't cool to look at, it's just that the script being so rigid and you having to have a fight every second episode will inevitably lead to the PCs being murderhobos. I would love to instead see a system where you have different resolution systems so you can have competitions that aren't just murdering each other. Or a system or setting where it's okay to fight one another since the people don't get murdered at the end (make it like a campy Transformers episode or something, where people shoot one another but that's okay, there will be there to shoot one another many times more). But no, this is D&D and violence is always an option.
Sure, you could argue that in that world it's okay to murder people, but late in the season the characters do go to jail for murdering people and the police do explicitly say it's not okay, so the text of the show doesn't support that argument.
So if you're planning on running a game where you don't murder everything as a way of resolving your conflicts by default, D&D doesn't have much to offer in this regard.
It's there to sell you toys
D&D is not only a game about fighting, it's also a game with deep roots in miniature wargaming that's owned by Hasbro, a toy company. If I was a cynic I would say that chances are a game pushed by a toy company will want to sell you toys, and I might not be far off. There are so many miniatures you can buy for the game it's crazy, and when you see a show like Dimension 20 playing with their cool minis your brain might go "boy, I want some of that plastic tosh to play with! Let me get my wallet!".
Luckily, I haven't seen Dimension 20 try to push their own line of minis in the merch store, but I'd kind of be weary of promoting a game in good conscious that kind of encourages you to buy overpriced plastic and a lot of books to be able to play "like the cool kids on TV".
This also means you can't really run D&D as an audio-only podcast without making it really dull to listen to or cutting a lot of boring content out. Not everyone has the budget to set up cameras for the crew, buy minis, paint them well, do some action shots during the fight and so on. Even running it virtually in some third party program to create a virtual arena you still have to have a good enough computer to record and render everything. This creates a much higher startup cost for anyone wanting to run the game than something that can be comfortably played in the theatre of the mind.
And again, this is more of a deeper discussion about whether it's okay to support a game that is not free of controversy and possibly creates a pressure for the show's audience to buy its merch through peer pressure of sorts. But that's a bit beyond our today's discussion.
The flip side
Of course, things can't really be clear cut. While D&D is really an awful game for an Actual Play when looked through its mechanics, that might not really be that important. D&D does being in a lot of eyes to the show because it's popular and people know it. A lot of people won't tune in to the show to see the Dimension 20 crew, they will tune in to see a high-production D&D unfortunately. So it's up to the show producers to weigh in the drawbacks of using a system they have to struggle with the benefits of a large audience and possibly a large corporation to boost their visibility.
Conclusions
Dimension 20 is probably the Actual Play with the highest production value I have seen. It executes its premise and works very hard within its constraints to bring perhaps the best version of what it sets out to do. It is unfortunate though, that what they have to work with is D&D.
D&D from a mechanical standpoint is a liability for any Actual Play show. It limits what kind of stories you can tell (everyone must be a murderhobo or an accessory to murderhobos), has a tendency of killing characters off prematurely, puts players in a timeout box when they do avoid death, and is something you have to have a good setup to record your minis, play areas and so on so your viewers don't get lost in the action.
In return the game rewards you with nothing but its BRAND. Sure, that might be good enough for a lot of people, but personally I'd love to see some more indie games getting the love and attention.
Of course, playing the game yourself is different from doing it as a performance. It is a different kind of engagement since you are in control of the action, rather than just witnessing what's happening. You can still enjoy a game even if it's not a good fit for an Actual Play.
And hey, if anyone from Dimension 20 want a pitch for a cool game, why not copy our Fellowship game in the Transformers universe. It's another Hasbro product, and it would be cool to see what you do by taking the existing toys and modding the heck out of them. The game can support someone playing Tripticon, a giant godzilla, while someone else is a tiny Mini-Con on their shoulder. Now design your show around that and it would be a spectacle just to see what your players could do with their cool, transforming, modded toys! ;)
Make this a game Dimension 20, I know it will be awesome!
My group and I have been playing some Fellowship recently. One of our characters was the Heir, a noble face of the group. Usually our GM plays most NPCs very respectfully since we don't like being mean to one another. However, when the Heir took a Move called "How Dare You", things had to change.
How Dare You lets the Hair do some cool stuff, but in order to trigger the Move, they have to be insulted to their face. This now meant that in order to facilitate the player being able to use their cool new Move, the GM had to have the NPCs insult them semi-regularly, not to be mean, but to let them use How Dare You and shine when they do it. This is a simple example of how character classes, builds and so on should shape the game.
Letting your players shine
One advice I don't see often brought up in books is the idea that you should help your players shine by tailoring the adventure to what their characters are good at. Sure, you hear it in the large sense of having player-driven games, but less so for sprinkling something for the characters to ace.
When you have a burglar character in your game, you want to give them locked doors to unlock more often than if you had a party without a burglar. If you have a character that invested heavily in linguistics, you want languages to be an important part of the game. If you have an Heir that has some cool Moves for when they get insulted, you want to insult them.
Introducing new struggles
Just as some powers may introduce cool new ways for a character to shine, there are also character builds that may introduce new struggles into the game. A Fellowship Remnant can take the Move Boogeyman that's all about being a horror to anyone that's not in the light:
When a player takes that Move, they essentially communicate to the GM that light is now an important part of the game, and whether some encounter takes place at day or night can make a large amount of difference to them. This Move can be rather powerful, so there may be some push and pull between the GM and the Remnant as to whether the situation favours them or not, and how they can manipulate the environment to their advantage.
Similarly, the Heir may take Parry! Counter! Thrust!, which will make them really strong at one on one melee duels:
Now the player will want to engage in more duels, while the GM will want to push against that a bit to make it harder for them to get into duels than if they didn't have that Move so as not to make things too easy.
Of course, you do want Boogeyman and Parry! Counter! Thrust! to trigger every now and then to once again let the players shine, but because they are so strong you don't want them to be a default for every encounter, hence why the GM ought to do some pushback against them every now and then for the players to get their way.
Being mindful of their foibles
Just as various characters have their strong suites, they also have their foibles one should be mindful of when GMing. For example, if you want to stump Fellowship's Swamp Ogres, challenge them with fire:
Other foibles and weaknesses might be less explicit - maybe the party doesn't have a burglar, so presenting them with a locked door is enough to create an issue for them. Maybe a character doesn't have any strengths when it comes to talking with people, so you might want to Put Them On The Spot in some situation where they have to talk their way out of a situation.
Of course, you don't want to do this all the time. Being challenged with a weakness should be a way for the character to shine or maybe for someone else to step in and take the spotlight, it shouldn't be an excuse to do some arms race.
Keeping it all in mind
One of our takeaways from realising the above concepts in our Fellowship games was that it would be useful for the GM to have a handy spreadsheet listing everything the players need to shine, what struggles they are engaging in, as well as how to stump them as needed.
Of course some idealised version of a GM would always remember such things, but we are all human and everyone needs help sometimes managing their mental loads with handy references.
Conclusions
Keep in mind (or on a reference sheet) ways various characters in your games want to shine, what struggles they bring with them to the game, and how to stump a given character as needed. Refer to those things often, give your players opportunities and challenge them as appropriate to get the most out of the game you're playing.
Recently in our Star Wars Fellowship game we had a session filled with some roleplay encounters. We talked with a clone trooper conspiracy theorist that believed the Clone Wars were perpetrated by a shadowy presence, a phantom menace, working behind the scenes of both sides of the war. We had a vision of a possible future where we talked in some mummified ally. Finally, we learned why the Big Bad Evil Guy is carrying out his plan of destroying all life in the galaxy. While all of them were interesting scenes that were pure roleplay (like so many people argue you should just roleplay social encounters), talking them over after the session we realised they were hampered a bit by some perceived boundaries mostly made out of the players being too polite to force their way through and not wanting to resort to mechanical rolls to deal with not to lose that flow of conversation. In essence, we were stopped by velvet ropes that prevented the players from taking reign of those scenes.
Velvet ropes of perceived limits
The velvet ropes are the perceived limits of what players think they can do in a given scenario that in actually are soft boundaries - thing they can go around or overcome with some determination. They can be easily mistaken for walls or invisible walls - limits that cannot be overcomed that the GM communicates clearly ("this scenario is about investigating a murder on the Orient Express, you can't just leave the train at the first stop and not come back"), or indirectly ("you try to leave Barovia through the Mist, but you are turned back around"). Both velvet ropes and walls can also come from the system or player's assumption about the game or the system ("in Fellowship the BBEG will never win", "I don't see a rule for stealing someone else's things, I guess I can't do that...").
The biggest issues velvet ropes bring to the game is that at first glance they might appear as invisible walls to the players, and crossing them feels like a slight transgression. Because of that, if things aren't communicated clearly, the players will cut themselves out of exploring a given path the GM would welcome them exploring.
In our examples, the conspiracy theorist clone trooper couldn't be reasoned with, because he was filled with paranoia and conviction. That didn't mean they couldn't be convinced to join the party, stand down or the like, but just talking to him would just make him go in circles. At the same time, in Fellowship, NPC's Stats are only truths if they are undamaged. So you could talk them through things or even punch them, damaging their "I cannot be reasoned with" Stat and make him be able to be reasoned with. That, however, would require the player to stop talking with them and decide to change the reality of the fiction with rolls, which in the flow of the moment can be hard to remember.
In the future vision, the NPC jedi had a hazy recollection of the past and where he was in the "now" of the future. He gave the PC indirect answers - "where are we?", "I don't know, I think we're on a planet, it feels wet...". The player perceived that as an invisible wall, while the GM didn't intend it to be some unknowable truth that he was on Kamino. The player could've pushed the narrative, trying to use his own jedi investigative skills or talk the NPC through focusing to realise where he was and what was going on by rolling an investigative or social roll. But because the player decided to stick with the fiction and just roleplay talking the situation out, those velvet ropes didn't get crossed and the scene felt like a bit of an exposition from someone in a fugue state.
Finally, the talk with the BBEG was all about learning about his motivation and discovering the secret of his plan to wipe out all life in the galaxy to end all suffering. Because his motivation came more from grief of all the suffering he has witnessed as a wartime doctor and was fuelled by evil spirits that feed on suffering rather, you couldn't easily reason him out of that mindset. Doing so would in the terms of the system amount to a social conflict, which would be very dangerous to a solo player. However not engaging with the system meant that once again, the players could not change the mind of someone in a conversation because of those velvet ropes. The BBEG needs to remain irrational for the game to move forward, so you can't just roleplay him changing his mind, but at the same time if you want to change his mind the system has provisions for that, Moves you can use to start accomplishing that.
Overcoming the velvet ropes
The velvet ropes can be overcome, but they require a bit of mental reconditioning. Similarly to how big elephants can be tied down with small ropes, we need to realise that sometimes a perceived wall is as strong of a deterrent as a real wall. The GMs ought to be a bit clearer in communicating what is really a wall, the players need to condition themselves to challenge things that aren't walls, and we all need to learn to weave between roleplaying and using Moves / rolls more regularly when we want to accomplish something that is being softly denied with the velvet ropes.
We may often feel crossing those boundaries would be improper, impolite, or transgressive in some other way. We need to unlearn that while still maintaining friendlyness and respect around the table.
Velvet ropes are one of the reasons you can't just leave all social interactions out to pure roleplay - you need some rules the players can always call on to accomplish what they want and fall back on a concrete outcome. Without those, they may be stuck going in circles trying to reason with someone that can't be reasoned with.
Conclusions
Velvet ropes are weak boundaries and challenges meant to gently dissuade characters from crossing them without applying some conviction. They are not meant to be hard boundaries like walls of the game, but they may often feel like that to some players. It is important to communicate the difference between those at the table and encourage players to push against and cross those ropes to get what they really want out of a scene. Knowing you have some tools like mechanics to push aside those velvet ropes when they get in the way is also a way to help players not get stuck.
In our group, we enjoy playing a good deal of demigod games with character Cults, ranging from Exalted (1, 2), through Godbound (1, 2), and to a smaller extent even Chronicles of Darkness could fall under this umbrella (in CRMB one of the PCs runs a masonic society which basically is a Cult to their supernatural self). While a demigod Cult is pretty much a staple of the genre and something that can be pretty interesting if done well, they often bring some issues whenever they appear.
Roles of cults in RPGs
As a baseline, Cults in RPGs generally come with some mechanical benefits to the player. In Exalted they give you some free Willpower, in Chronicles of Darkness they give you some free Merits, in the New Gods of Mankind they are key to getting faith to power your miracles, and in Godbound Cults give you more Dominion to change the world and come with some other benefits.
Beyond the mechanical, Cults are an expression of the demigod PC and their beliefs on how people should behave. Swallows of the South's Godwin was a musician, so his cults were his groupies. In Princes of the Universe, the Royal was all about being a merchant prince and trade, so his cult focused on heavy capitalism, paying taxes and accruing as much wealth as you could to get a high score when you die. In the same series the Majestic was a narcissistic scholar and his cult focused on people becoming educated. He was also heavily themed after mesoamerican themes of Exalted, which meant a lot of human sacrifices. But since only the best would do for him, the sacrifices had to be of the best examplars of his cult and willing because Majestic was against slavery.
Similarly, Cults are a way for the players to shape their world - to introduce a new religion into the world and possibly affect a large number of NPCs. Similarly, the Cults are often a resource the PC can tap into to engage the world more broadly - if you have a kingdom that worships you, you can rally troops from it and send that army to conquer other territories for you after all.
There are some problems that appear when you start dealing with the Cults in practice however...
Possession of NPCs
In demigod games we ran we often ran into this situation - a new mortal NPC is introduced, they join our society, and then comes the question of who will "own them" (so to say) by which Cult they will join. After that the PCs can get possessive over the NPCs that are their worshippers, and those NPCs rarely interact with PCs that are not their chosen deity.
For example, in Princes of the Universe a young girl named Conna is one of the last survivors from Wanderer's village. Early in the series the Majestic takes her under his wing to educate her properly and so on, later making her an important figure in his cult. Pretty much from that point she doesn't interact with anyone else anymore, and later Majestic basically refers to her as his adopted child. Similar patterns also appear in The Living Years where various mummified saints are raised from the dead and become worshippers of the Litch King and not interact much with other PCs, despite one of them being a devout of the faith they were the saints of, etc.
It's perhaps a bit subtle at times, since in a lot of situations you will have certain PCs and NPCs gravitate closer together and you may have NPCs that don't interact with anyone but one PC in general, but an NPC becoming someone's worshipper is certainly a strong indication to other players to not mess with them because they "belong" to that player.
On a larger scale, the same principle applies whenever the players visit a new location. Since some systems like Godbound punish you for divvying up a population between characters (Cult scale is exponential, but breakdown is linear. A Scale 1 Cult is 1000 people, a Scale 2 town is 100k people, but you can either get one Scale 2 Cult out of it, or two Scale 1 Cults, and combining two Scale 1 Cults from two places doesn't give you a Scale 2 Cult), meaning you often have to pick who owns what new town you visit or save. It starts to feel very transactional, especially when players start expecting towns to convert to their religion after saving them.
On a similar note...
Transactional worship
Growing your Cult in games like Godbound is generally a reward for completing some major quest. You liberate a town from some evil monster that has been plaguing it, and now the people give you praise. Because having a bigger Cult means you get a mechanical benefit, you sort of expect that as a reward or at least an option when you enter a new location. This makes the whole process feel a bit transactional, since even if you try being selfless you might get worshippers regardless due to them being so grateful, etc. This can feel even worse if you realise your character can be essentially uprooting an existing culture and replacing it with their own in the process.
That was an important character arc for Atrus in The Living Years - he was an outsider to the kingdom of Ancalia and the world of Arcem as a whole and he was really conscious about starting a cult of his own and imposing his ideas on the people that were foreign to him. For similar reasons in Evicting Epistle (a setting where the world was destroyed in the future so people went back to the past to conquer it anew since they didn't have anything left in their time) I couldn't justify playing a character from the future to avoid these kind of themes, and the themes of colonialism. It would be really hard to avoid a hyper-tech future demigod interacting with prehistoric proto-humans without some form of "need to uplift these 'savages'".
Religion defining the NPCs
A character can appear in the story and later join one of the PC Cults, or they can be introduced as someone from the Cult outright. In the second case especially (although not exclusively) the NPC's involvement in the Cult tends to define their personality. Godwin's groupies exist only as his fans with a little bit of individual mannerisms sprinkled on top. In CRMB every member of the masonic Cult tends to act in a similar, scheming way. etc.
Sure, sometimes when you create disposable NPCs, they tend to be one note, but unfortunately it seems with NPCs that are a part of a PC Cult that note tends to gravitate on what religion they subscribe to. This can make them a bit less interesting than if one would build characters first and then figure out if they'd follow any of the Cults.
In a similar vein, it is also rather easy to portray these Cults as a homogeneous group of people, rather than a collection of individuals. They tend to be characterised as a collective, display uniform traits and generally just be that one-note character from the previous paragraph smeared across a larger group.
Of course, this can come down to how much time and effort one wants to devote to fleshing out the characters. There is nothing stopping you from adding more depth and nuance to Cults and its members, but it takes that little bit extra effort over going with the flow of the least resistance and using stereotypes when describing the NPCs.
Mechanics influence characters
As discussed before, the mechanics of a game inform the playstyle of the characters, and the same can be said for Cults. I've noticed this especially with Godbound - in this system the characters can either be a demigod with a cult, or a free divinity that doesn't have worshippers to suit your playstyle. However, mechanically, having a cult more often than not is a better choice - you get more Dominion out of it, you get a neat Faction you can use to do your large-scale bidding, and generally have more stuff to interact with. Mechanically, the game is rewarding you for having a Cult, which means almost every character in the game will end up having a Cult (in our multiple campaigns using the system, totalling to about 15 characters, only one PC didn't have a cult - Adina from The Living Years, and that was only because I ended up insisting she wouldn't get one if it couldn't be a part of the religion she followed herself). This in turn changes the sort of characters you play - you won't want to play someone who is selfless and doesn't accept people worshipping them because that would put you at an advantage, so you make a character that would want the worship.
One solution - make it all cosmetic
One possible solution to a number of the listed problems would be to make the Cults a cosmetic thing to a character, rather than something that has mechanical benefits. A narcissist demigod that demands adulation can still make a Cult because that suits the character, while someone that doesn't feel the need won't feel bad for missing out on the mechanical benefits. Now because Cults stop being such a dominant thing every player has to focus on, the NPCs are under less pressure to pick a side and they can remain their own people. Being praised as "the town's hero" for saving it feels a bit less of a commitment than having the town worship you as their deity of choice.
Conclusions
Character Cults can be a really interesting part of a demigod game. They can serve as an extension or a compliment of any character, a way for them to express themselves on a large scale. However, it is very easy to fall into traps of defining NPCs by the religion they follow, and to get territorial and transactional about individual and group NPCs and which bucket they will fall into. When the system promotes having Cults, you also tend to see characters more skewed in that direction, changing what kind of PCs you see in those games.
Ideally, you would focus on making NPCs defined people first and then putting them in a Cult if they fit, and you would have a system where choosing to have or not to have a Cult would be balanced to encourage making characters that fit what the players want to play, rather than rewarding one kind of characters.
My group and I play a lot of games with interesting mechanics. Lately, we've been trying Cortex, a modular RPG system where you can tailor the engine to your game needs. One part of the system you can plug into your game are Trait Statements - some statement that focuses and refines a trait for the character that's meant to be challenged in the course of the game. So for example, you can have a Perception trait at D10 with a Statement "Trust No One" attached to it. This would tell you about the character's worldview. Mechanically more importantly, you are supposed to challenge these Statements to get a bonus to a roll and to change your character. So if say, you decide that you can trust someone, you would roll 3D10 instead of 1D10 for that roll, but then you would have to either change the Statement, or change the die associated with the trait, either turning into "Perception D8 Trust No One (and a bonus to something else)", or "Perception D10 I Can Count On Others".
While this mechanic in itself is all well and good, from playing various games over the years, I'm yet to see anyone embrace such character changes / sideways growth as a part of their gaming experience. Let me elaborate.
Homunculus character
More often than not in my experience, when someone makes a character for an RPG they come out as a homunculus, a small version of what the character will be later in the story. When you make a warrior that's all about being honourable and just, they start out as a honourable and just warrior with weak stats, and over the course of the game, they grow into being a honourable and just warrior with strong stats and minor tweaks here and there. If you want to play a crafter, you build a crafter and invest in them being a crafter, etc. Rarely do you see a shift from one to another, or from one fundamental set of beliefs to the next.
Medieval art and homunculus baby Jesus - "perfectly formed and unchaned"
Sure, you could come into a game with a blank slate of a character and form them as they grow. From what I heard this was especially prevalent in oldschool RPGs where most level 1 characters of a given class were about the same, a lot of them wouldn't survive the meat grinder and you wouldn't care about their backstory if they would just die one session later. This kind of attitude is literally related to the term "grognard" in its original meaning.
Similarly, you could build a character and aim for them to have a character arc where they go from a naive child to a grizzled grognard and then to a quiet farmer, but unless you are playing something like Chuubo's where you can literally create an arc for your character, it might be hard to execute.
From my experience, you generally see homunculus characters - a fully formed idea of what the character will be like, with minor wiggle room for the details. If you want to play someone else, you generally don't shift your character from one thing to another using mechanics like the above, you just make a new character.
Similar mechanics
Cortex is not the only game that has mechanics for such character shifts.
In Star Trek Adventures every character has a set of Values, which basically reflect their moral centre. Things like "The Needs of the Many Outweigh the Needs of the Few, or the One", "Holds Everyone to the Highest Standards", "Duty above all else", etc. Those are used to either challenge the characters and make the situation more complicated because of their beliefs, or to let the character challenge that value and change their worldview based on that experience.
This of course is very much keeping with the themes of Star Trek and character development. However, in the game it can feel like you should make characters that don't believe what they should be believing, and your reward for having that character growth is a simple stat readjustment. I've heard a player be frustrated with the game expecting them not to make a character the way they want them to act and constantly questioning what they believe in, and perhaps giving a mechanic to what otherwise might be organic character growth is having the opposite effect (reminds me of Freakonomics...).
In City of Mist your character is built out of themes. Things like "trained boxer", "man of steel", "diviner", "the guy with a van". These themes accrue "fades and cracks" over the course of the game if they are neglected. If you don't show up to your boxing practice, solve problems with guns or generally make that part of your character not important, you will eventually have to replace that themebook for another to reflect what has taken its place in your character's life. While this can be an interesting flow of a story, especially when replacing your themes can turn you fully superhuman or fully mundane with some serious repercussions for either, if the players are too loss-averse or make their characters just right, they might not engage with this mechanic at all.
Many Powered by the Apocalypse games we came across feature an interesting character option for late-game levelling - "make a new character". This is example from The Veil:
In most games this feels a bit strange, but there is perhaps one game where an option like this works - The Sprawl:
The Sprawl is a Cyberpunk game, which comes with its genre expectations of character life being rather cheap and expendable. Since this character level up option costs additionally a good chunk of money, you can see it as "your character gets to retire", rather than being a given for any character. It's something you work extra hard towards.
How we handle these things
I hope our group is not alone in this, but seeing as True Friend needed to be a merit it might not be universal, but we have a relaxed attitude to character building. If you need to tweak your character, just do it, it's fine. If you want to do a complete rewrite of a character for new mechanics, the GM will usually agree (we've done that once in Heaven for Everyone after a new supplement with a new character splats came out). If you want to make a new character because the old one doesn't play that well, pretty much the same applies (we've done that in a yet unpublished Humblewood game).
Couple that with us generally knowing what kind of characters we want to play (and GM being pretty much always on-board with whatever the players come up with), we rarely engage in any of those mechanics. We have character growth and changes as a part of playing our characters in the world (for example in The Living Years demigod Atrus didn't want to form a religion around himself not to impose his worldview onto foreign people, but since they came to him for guidance and after being reassured by one of the NPCs he trusts it's fine, he changed his character's outlook organically).
So perhaps it would be good to make such kind of attitudes something acceptable in more games without necessarily needing to put in mechanics around retiring an old character and making a new one...
Conclusions
A number of games feature mechanics for tweaking your character's stats and worldview. Often, however, these might not be all that useful to the players if they already made the characters exactly the way they want to play them. It's good to give the players options to tweak their characters to better suit their games as they get some hands-on experience with how they play, but making entire mechanics around it might be a bit much...
For a few years my group had some fun playing a few games of Godbound, a demigod OSR RPG. It was a game letting you play level 20 D&D characters and beyond pretty much off the bat, but with much streamlined rules. It was pretty fun at first, but since the game is very much focused on combat, you could notice a problem that in other games might've been obscured by complex mechanics - Godbound had a Power Inflation problem.
Basically, in Godbound and probably most RPGs, your character will grow in power as they gain XP, gather loot and so on. Their HP, damage output, etc. will increase and you will feel good because "bigger numbers are more better". However, at the same time, the game has to compensate for the extra power you gained. Now fighting low-level enemies feels too easy, so the GM has to throw bigger and meaner things at you, with more HP and higher damage output to challenge you. If you haven't noticed, nothing has changed with the level up - your numbers have increased, but enemy numbers have also increased, you still take a comparable amount of hits / turns to kill them, but now the numbers are bigger. This is basically Inflation, as you have entered a treadmill where you run in place...
Arms race ruining fun
Another aspect of the Power Inflation that might be even more explicitly worse would be an arms race between the players and the GM. Basically, if you have a rather open-ended character creation system that's vast enough, you can find some really broken combinations of spells, abilities or what have you that would let you punch way above your weight class. In response, the GM would have to throw even more challenging enemies at you, or possibly also resort to using some dirty tricks, broken combos or some other shenanigans to keep up "to challenge the party". This path pretty much leads to frustration if left unchecked:
"Narrated D&D Story:
How I Accidentally Triggered A Cold War
Between The Dungeon Master And The Party"
Basically, RPGs are supposed to be a collaborative storytelling tools that help both the GM and the players tell interesting stories, not a war gaming competition to see who can be the strongest. Sure, if that's the group's jam, go for it, but more often than not it's one or two players powergaming, while others might be left behind the power curve, making balancing combat harder than it would usually be. This is not to mention how much enjoyment players that aren't combat-focused would get out of sessions like these, or being told that they can't even hit the enemies.
One way or the other, it circles back to the same Power Inflation problem - combat gets too easy or too complicated, the other side of the table compensates and we're back to square one - combat taking X amount of hits / turns, except the numbers are bigger and the process is more complex. If one side overcompensates, then you have to get back to balancing things. This can get especially problematic when you have unstable combat systems (ones where it's hard to land the balance where you intend, often resulting in things being too easy or too hard).
Avoiding Power Inflation
Unfortunately, it's a bit hard to avoid Power Inflation in games.
Modules might sidestep the issue by giving you fixed enemies to encounter. This fixes the GM side of things to an extent, meaning it's up to the players to be the balancing factor - either doing some more prepwork if the going gets tough, or taking on a bigger challenge if things get too easy. If someone brings an OP build, they are ruining their own fun, which might not be that big of an issue. That being said, this assumes the module is well-balanced, which is a big problem in itself (although you'd expect some hard balancing work being done by the authors that were paid to make these, but that might be a pipe dream in the industry...).
Shorter games might not suffer from this issue as much, because the Inflation doesn't have time to set in, but this mostly avoids the issue by not engaging in character progression.
Similarly, there are games out there that have really slow progression system, like Star Trek Adventures. In that example you start as a fully capable characters on the level as Picard or Spock and you only get to directly increase your attributes every 6+ sessions. Even those increases are not that big, meaning the Power Inflation from levelling is glacial, and since you're expected to have a roster of secondary characters to use on adventures, the GM can expect the player characters to be competent and play their enemies accordingly.
This sort of approach practically means you don't level your character. You can shift their attributes and other things about them about more, but that's mostly it. Some games like Fellowship or other Powered by the Apocalypse also don't see much in the vein of character's power growth over the course of the game.
What else could be out there?
While the previously mentioned are about the only ways I've seen games avoid Power Inflation, but one could think of a few more that I haven't encountered in the wild.
You could have a game that's about players creating their own encounters in the spirit of Monster Hunter and "lets grind this for resources". This way it's up to the players to pick their own battles, prepare for them, get the rewards they want and so on. Add some time pressure in the vein of Kingdom Death: Monster and you have pressure on players to optimise getting as much from any given encounter as they can, so they are incentivised to push themselves to the limit and battle the meanest set of enemies they can survive. It would probably make the game very focused on that one loop unfortunately, and you're basically reinventing Kingdom Death:Monster...
A different approach would be to move the Power Inflation focus away from stats and onto a "scale factor". So say, a rookie warrior would be fighting with "+2 to hit Scale 1" and fighting "Scale 1 rats", resolve things as normal. Eventually they level up but instead of increasing their to-hit, you bump their Scale up. Eventually you are a veteran warrior with "+2 to hit Scale 10" and fighting "Scale 10 demon". If you want some growth, you could reset the "+x" each time you go up a Scale and then focus on buying it back.
This perhaps makes the Power Inflation very explicit, but allows game designers to laser-focus on refining the engagement at any Scale, because the Scale is only a set dressing. You could perhaps compare this to something like Dragonball - after awhile, the character power level is meaningless, but every arc you find a new villain that's stronger than the heroes, and then you have to train to get strong enough to beat them, etc. Everything is cyclical, you just move the reference power level sliding scale higher and higher to always have the characters in view. Every now and then show the players how weak lower Scale enemies are and introduce a big bad that's a higher Scale than them to show them they have a new challenge to beat and you have something to work with...
Of course, this might get into the criticism I sometimes hear about universal RPGs, where there isn't a difference between two snails fighting and two gods fighting, everything's still the same mechanically. You want those to feel different, but how you do that without over-complicating the mechanics and over-inflating the numbers...
Conclusions
Power Inflation in RPGs is a tricky problem to handle. On one hand, you expect your character to grow over the course of the game and become more capable, but on the other hand, you always want to be challenged on your adventures, so the enemies have to grow alongside you. Even if you over-focus on something to be the best at it, the GM only has to compensate harder to give you the challenge when it's needed.
It's hard to address the issue of Power Inflation without removing character advancement in its entirety, or making it really flat. Ideally, you'd have a system that deals with the issue and gives the GM the tools to balance things for their party, but that might be easier said than done...
Technology and the industrial revolution have been an unprecedented boon to the global standard of living. With them, we escaped the Malthusian trap and have achieved things that were inconceivable before. However, what would applying a similar scale of progress do in an RPG?
In our Princes of the UniverseExalted game we explored a high-scale, high-power game that involved a character that hyper-specialised in Crafting. By mid-Season 2, they were able to create basically a post-scarcity utopia city in the middle of the desert, complete with climate control, automatic food dispensers, crafting facilities, Big Brother-style AI, etc. Basically, everyone could live your entire life there in luxury and not have to lift a finger, everything was provided for them. Things only escalated from there.
After awhile a lot of problems could just be hand waved away with Crafting. Resource shortages? Throw automated mining at a mountain. Food problems? Automated farms. Money problems? Start selling perfectly crafted luxury items and dominate each and every market out there. Military problems? Create automated drones, power armour, a fleet of airships, etc.
While in Exalted if you wanted to focus on the minutia of Crafting it would boil down to a lot of rolling, in systems like Godbound (which Princes of Universe eventually adopted) such large-scale changes are ingrained into its Dominion system. Heck, in vanilla Godbound you can even make new worshippers to boost yourself even further...
Solving every problem
But back to the topic at hand. Just like technology has solved basically every problem that plagued our civilisations in the past, so too can high-end Crafting solve pretty much every problem a system might have. This is pretty similar to the Quadratic Wizards Problem (where in games like D&D warriors' powers grow linearly, while wizards' power grows quadratically and inevitably they dominate everything) - if there is no balancing factor, Crafting can make anyone else obsolete. A warrior might train a hundred elite monks, but a Crafter might bring a machine gun to a knife fight.
Moreover, if anything can be solved with Crafting, you can run into the Paradox of Plenty - if you don't need people to extract natural resources, till the fields, make things, etc., what good are they?
Sure, you can have them create art, engage in science and philosophy and do everything else that's not manual labour. That can work if you don't push automation too far, but I'm yet to see an RPG where the art output of a nation would be a factor (sounds like a pretty neat concept).
In the end the only thing that's the limit is the setting. In Exalted, pretty much the only thing you couldn't automate was prayers - you needed actual souls for those to work. This was ultimately the use for humans in our game - to generate worship for the demigod player characters.
It takes something from the man
While in real life having a post-scarcity fully automation powered society would be an undeniable good, in RPGs it can "take something from the man" (or the setting) so to say. It takes away a lot of the strife from the setting - you don't have to choose whether sending people to war would mean your civilisation would starve if they didn't return for the harvest, or whether to farm cash crops to pay for a civic project, or food crops to feed the populous. If a single character can solve any problem with Crafting / technology, characters that are not Crafting-focused feel inferior in comparison, and if Crafting can start making other player characters obsolete, the game can just feel bad to play.
This touches on the idea of hard magic systems, where while magic can be awesome, it also needs to have some limits, and it's those limits that make the magic system interesting.
For example, in Godbound, a lot of the high-end Artefact creation requires the use of Celestial Shards, parts of the Engines that run reality. Obtaining them is always an ordeal, and using them essentially always means you are letting the broken world stay broken rather than try fixing it. Similarly, every player character has access to the same ability to change the world with Dominion even if they are not a Crafter, so you don't feel like you're that lesser at fixing problems with your powers.
Technology as corruption
In most games, especially scifi ones, players will almost never not want to get their hands on some cool gadgets, shiny toys or useful gear. Whether that's through looting places or making their own if they can, they will want to get some tech. However, some settings have introduced a counterbalance to the wonders of technology.
The Fading Suns universe is built on the remains of a post scarcity corporate techno utopia. However, the current setting is a space feudal empire built around the Universal Church, whose central doctrine is that technology makes your soul impure and leads to the stars fading. While PCs will fall under the various factions that are given indulgences to use technology for the good of the people (an inquisitor using a spaceship will save more souls than it they couldn't use a spaceship for example), a lot of the setting will carry a stigma attached to the excessive use of technology. So while you could build be more machine than man and run robotic farms, you will be shunned by the peasants you displaced and the church might extradite you all the while keeping a close eye on what other heresy you might be committing.
This kind of thing would of course require some buy-in from the players and a balanced touch from the GM not to be a party pooper, but it can provide an excuse why you can't just rely on technology to solve all your problems in the setting.
Modern thinking
Another interesting topic relating to Crafting and technology solving a lot of problems is that it is a very modern way of thinking. We know where technological progress leads, so we may want our characters to start pushing the setting towards modernity by inventing / reinventing even such simple concepts as basic sanitation or an assembly line. However, we have to remember that sometimes it took forever for new technologies to be created. The first steam engine was first described in the 1st century AD, but it still took 17 centuries for the Industrial Revolution to start. It's fine to work within what the setting is and not having to push it to modernity.
Conclusions
If taken to extremes, Crafting, innovation and technology in RPGs can be setting-changing. On one hand that can be a pretty awesome feeling of bringing a world from the dark ages to a post-scarcity society as a result of one's character's actions, but on the other hand it can detract from the game if people wanted to engage in the sword and sandal fantasy rather than going into scifi territories.
You can try addressing the problem by choosing a system that balanced Crafting vs other professions or sets some limits on what is possible. Alternatively, you can actively try avoiding the problem by choosing not to have a focused Crafter in your game (we did that with The Living Years, where it was the more challenging way to play, and our motto almost became "if we only took Artifice...").
Like with anything, it's good to talk about your game's vision before the game starts. If you want to turn the setting from fantasy to scifi and people are onboard, go for it. If a game starts getting exponential and snowballing because of Crafting or something similar and you don't want to do that, you can ask people not to do that, etc.
Winning the game in Session 0 with Learning and Teaching...
In a lot of RPGs, players have skills, stats or whatever you want to call them that are well defined. Things like Medicine, Nature, Insight, etc. in D&D, or Occult, Drive, Larceny in Chronicles of Darkness. Then there are some games that are more flexible where the players are asked to fill in their own ad lib skills and stats - games like DOGS, Godbound or Chuubo's Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine, where you can pretty much write anything in as a stat - "Memory of my dead brother", "Fastest gun in the west", or "underwater basket weaving".
The problem with the latter is the fuzzy boarders each such statement creates about when a given skill should be used, when it shouldn't apply, and avoiding skills that are too broad or too narrow.
Broad vs narrow skill applications
There are RPGs out there that like to break skills down to minutia. In Burning Wheel there are a lot of skills - under Carpentry alone you have Fence Building, Ditch Digging, Carving, Carpentry, Rude Carpentry, Cooping (making barrels), Boatwright, Shipwright, Cartwright and a few more. This creates a sort of Air-Breathing Mermaid Problem, where the game basically forces the GM's hand to say "sorry, you only have Carpentry, you can't carve and decorate what you build and you can't seem to know how to make a barrel". It can also create traps if characters specialise in some skill that doesn't come up that often - "I know you're a master Cooper, but no matter how great that barrel you make will be it still won't help you sail the sea, you need Boatwright for that".
You can run into similar problems in games where players can define their own ad lib skills, but those also sway in the other direction - they can be too broadly applicable. You could have players put ranks into "underwater basket weaving" only for that to come in handy once or twice in the entire game, while someone else makes a stat called "fast" and they want to use it all the time - "I shoot him, but like, fast", "I read, fast", "I sleep, fast", etc. The boarders where such player-defined skills apply are fuzzy - you can't really tell them that because there is some other skill that also works for the situation theirs might not apply. Moreover, players will often skew the problem in their favour just so they can use their best skills - "I make a basket under water and it's so well crafted I can use it as a raft with a sail to navigate the rough sea. It's all baskets, just different shapes."
City of Mist tried addressing this problem by classifying its tags into "specific" and "broad". Most tags on a character sheet should be specific - only letting the character use them in specific, limited scenarios. One tag could be broad - applicable in wide variety of situations.
Rainbow shields and damage of the gaps
While playing Exalted / Godboundwith my group we would often reference a "rainbow shield" defence - a power to negate any kind of incoming damage, no matter whether it's physical, magical, fire, electricity, etc. A system that would allow for such widely-applicable defence to exist wouldn't be too fun to play really. Exalted 2nd edition suffered from something like that from what I heard - someone created an optimal way of playing the game called "paranoia combat" that's all about using perfect defence against the high-lethality rocket-tag and outlast your opponent.
In our first round of playing Godbound we ended up being too generous with defences, letting the players counter most attacks with most power sets - "I use Artifice to instantly build a wall around myself to deflect the incoming blow!". As we later found out, Godbound was not intended to work like that - any given Word should only counter a very narrow range of powers that are thematically linked to it. You could use Sea to counter a Fire power, but not say, Sword.
However, the game had a different problem, one which I'll call "damage of the gaps". The system did not have a specified, finite list of damage types. A number of powers did either give you things you could be immune to, or let you specify said immunity - for example, if you had the Word of Fire you had "an invincible defence against flame and smoke". But since "smoke" was ill-defined, we had an argument about whether that Word would apply against chemical fumes and poisonous gasses. Similarly, in the Ancalia expansion introduced an Incendiary Court - fire-golem-like creatures from outside of reality that while clearly having fire-based attacks nonetheless came with a note that their "flaming powers are not wholly of natural fire, and so enemies with invincible defences against fire still take half damage from them". This was probably to prevent players circumventing a big boss fight entirely, but still felt like a weird way to make a power less useful.
In a similar vein you could start splitting hairs on many things - if you are immune to mental attacks and someone uses music or mean words on you, does that count? Where does mental damage end and emotional damage begin? Is a psychic blow magic, mental or physical? Is a laser attack fire, sunlight, or neither? Can I make some very snowflake-y Word that has its own damage type that none of the statted enemies have defence against?
Because the game had no finite and well-defined list of damage types, you either have to make one yourself before the game starts, or possibly have to argue about this kind of damage of the gaps...
Conclusions
While being able to get creative with skills and powers can be fun, having things that are well-defined and concise can help everyone at the table know when something is applicable and avoid the problems of things being either too narrowly or too broadly useful.
