Roleplaying games, particularly those with an attached setting, are an interesting breed of entertainment. Like all entertainment properties, they are faced with an interesting choice: how often do you change, and how much do you change, in order to best serve the needs of your audience?

I may already be touching off strong opinions just by addressing the subject of change. Not my intention, but change is a delicate subject in the hobby. It's because roleplaying requires investment of time and creativity, rather than being simply passive entertainment. Therefore, whenever a publisher introduces change in any aspect, well, reactions are mixed. For some people, you really are doing them a service. Others may see it as a strict devaluation of the property. And yet, we are essentially compelled to pursue change, not for its own sake, but for the sake of evolution.

Here's the basic thing: A roleplaying system and its fanbase are essentially an ecosystem — or arguably, a species within the larger ecosystem that is the roleplaying hobby as a rule. And as a game is out there for what is effectively a "generation," it gets put through the paces of survival. Its strong points attract players, and convince them to spread the game to other players via active play, or perhaps even just recommending it as a good read. Its flaws are exposed, and if critical enough, may cripple the game to where it's not competitive. Then the prospect of change comes in. By changing a weak point, you theoretically increase a game's ability to survive. Change enough of them, and you can get new people to try it, and reinvigorate the old players to have an easier and better time playing a game they like. Of course, if you change too much, you run the risk of creating a brand-new species, and then things become very unpredictable.

That's the theory, anyway. The reality is that much of this evolution takes place in an ecosystem too large to track, and that many parallel evolutions are taking place as each group evolves the ruleset more to their personal liking. This essentially guarantees a "You can't make everyone happy" situation, as the concept of change will alienate some, the concept of inertia will alienate others, and specific changes tend to split opinions themselves.

Right now, though, we have what I think is a pretty neat setup. With the core World of Darkness and its core lines, as well as the concept of rotating limited lines, we have an opportunity to experiment with various changes while still keeping a stable core. When we find an interesting change that looks like it's got mileage, we can then implement it later in another form. Forthcoming games are drawing on a lot of our findings from watching the evolution of the Storytelling system; each new WoD game tries breaking the rules in some fashion, trying a new approach to design while still retaining that core of familiarity.

The core of the team we have doesn't really believe in the concept of change for the sake of change. When we switched over from the previous World of Darkness to the current one, that was essentially a change forced by necessity. We couldn't simply keep going with the old version as we were and survive as a company. The change wasn't as widely embraced as we would have hoped, but it certainly wasn't based on a whim, let me tell you. It kept us going. And as we go forward with the World of Darkness, we're trying to keep an eye on what mutations are beneficial and which are perhaps not as effective as we'd hoped.

Now, don't take this as a "Oh my God, a Huge Change is coming!" post. I'm not out here trying to be the thinly-veiled harbinger of another Great Mutation. Rather, the point that I'm trying to get across is that the evolution of a system and setting is a gradual and good thing. It's like gardening, really; we're tending our gardens, trying to weed out the undesirable and sickly plants, and when we find a particularly successful plant, we want to graft it or plant its seeds in other portions of the garden. That's because we haul our goods to the farmer's market for you to buy them, and we want to have the best and most fragrant produce out there for you to take home and use in your favorite recipes. The ecosystem thus benefits both the gardener and the buyer. It's an ongoing process, and as I say, it's realized over generations. There are a lot of different ways to get these tweaks out to you, from supplements to internet feedback. Even the SAS style is kind of an new evolution in how to present games, with its scene formats and the like. As with so many other things, balance is key: too little change and you achieve stagnation, too much and you achieve alienation.

If you keep track of these changes and experiments, then should a need for a new generation arise, you can take what you've learned and apply it. But you don't have to wait for a generational shift, which is the great thing. There are supplements, of course, but also the always inspiring opportunity to make a new game. Take a look at the experiments that run in Chuck Wendig and his crew's Hunter: The Vigil. Let us know how they work for you; and heck, be sure to let us know how you think things have been going from one line to the next. If we find there's been a really successful innovation in Promethean or Changeling, for instance, we are damn well not too proud to consider grafting it into another line if we can find the place. Survival of the fittest is a fairly harsh-sounding phrase, but you do get some pretty neat games out of it.