Divinity: Original Sin II
Hands-on with Larian Studios’ digital tabletop system
a GM needs to be able to create scenarios at the speed of imagination
During the Kickstarter for Divinity: Original Sin II, Larian Studios added a stretch goal for a Game Master mode, a platform for creating online tabletop adventures. It’s been over a year since that goal was hit, and Swen Vincke, Larian’s founder, asks me to roll a d20 to see if I can steal memories from a corpse by eating it. I roll a 16 and enjoy a snack. We’re meant to be playing the beginning of Ultima VII: Serpent Isle, one of Vincke’s favourites, but with the engine of Original Sin II and the ‘anything goes’ philosophy of tabletop role-playing. Using a walkthrough to refresh his memory, he crafts the campaign in less than 30 minutes, but it keeps us playing for hours. It’s a testament to both the flexibility of the mode and its ease of use.
That simplicity is so important because a GM needs to be able to create scenarios at the speed of imagination. In another campaign, my group ends up doing so badly, despite our ingenious idea to turn a goblin into a bomb and throw him down a well, that Vincke has to conjure up a prison for us to be flung in after we lose another battle. He’s in such a rush that he doesn’t have time to make working doors, but it serves its function and creates a new stage for our misadventures.
A campaign is, essentially, a series of small areas linked together by maps and vignettes, with art and levels either grabbed from the roster of Larian-created stuff available in the mode or imported at the GM’s discretion. This is where the separate modding tools should come in handy, as players will be able to craft their own areas and creatures, and then add them to the GM mode. But this is optional, and everything you need to put together a campaign is available straight away.
Finally, I get the chance to make my own campaign. I name it ‘The Chicken King’. It’s a terrible story of adventurers trying to kill a chicken in a post-apocalyptic world where poultry have knocked humans off the top of the food chain. I’m very proud of it. It’s a campaign with many twists and turns (okay, one twist, and maybe a turn), but the real surprise is how incredibly easy the creation process is.
A feast for fowls
I start with a map, sticking pins in it and writing an introduction that sets the scene. Then I start building. First, areas: a bridge, an entrance to a dungeon, a throne room. In these, I plonk down NPCs, enemies, and objects. I can even change surfaces, adding oil or water that can be used to set up traps, either by myself or the party. Extra details can also be flung in, such as music, ambient sounds, and changes to the atmosphere.
All of this is just the stage, however, and the real magic only happens when the actors, the party of adventurers, jump in. That’s when these scenes spring to life as I possess NPCs or change whole groups of chickens into hostile threats on the fly, depending on what choices my players make in the Choose Your Own Adventure vignettes or how they roll.
Ultimately, all of these tools exist to support the two most important elements of tabletop shenanigans: Imagination and improvization. Even the most elaborate campaign needs to allow for player agency, which is why being able to go off script, something GM mode makes very easy, is such a boon.
When I ate a dead wizard in Swen’s campaign, none of it was planned. The wizard was meant to be an ally. But he was able to create a new encounter and then another route back to the critical path all while we were still playing, never forcing us to give up our freedom. In those moments, it all started to come together, and GM mode proved it was more than a novelty. Fraser Brown