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I played the first of two Dogs in the Vineyard one-shots yesterday, visiting the unhappy little burg of Green Creek Pass (http://www.ajnewman.net/~ajn/ditv/greencreek.1.html). Since I'm revisiting the town next weekend with another set of Dogs, I'm keen to get feedback on the town, the play, and, well, pretty much everything. This was the first time I GMed DitV, but I'd played once before to get the hang of some of the mechanics, and been avidly reading APs and rules queries for a few weeks. In summary: the town needs some re-jigging, the supernatural dial blew a fuse, and a good time was had by all.

The Players
We met through the Gotham Gaming Guild of Nerd NYC (http://www.nerdnyc.com/forum/), and almost everyone's played with at least one other person before. There's been much discussion recently on the nerd.boards about RPGs - since a significant proportion of the community likes to play - and it's all got quite passionate. Quite apart from me very much wanting to run DitV, I was also keen to offer some actual play with which to frame some of those discussions. Not exactly a hidden agenda: my agenda was always to play.

• Alexander - me, the GM. Played several other systems, very keen to run DitV.
• Anthony - read DitV, never played it, plays in a weekly (ish) campaign with me, and at the GGG.
• Jason - first time playing DitV, and actively feeling out the system and style of play. I think it's fair to say that Jason was testing the game as much as trying it. GMs at the GGG.
• Keeley - GMed DitV for me and my boyfriend, a friend for several years. Played kpfs with me.
• Mayuran - played DitV 9 or so times before, also in Luke's disastrous game. He's in a GGG BW campaign with me.

The Dogs

• Brother Elisha - (played by Anthony) had a complicated community background: his mother was of the Faith, but his father was not, and it wasn't until she started wasting away that he found his calling to be a dog. As a consequence, he had a relationship with boozing, and some hefty ridin' an' shootin' traits.
• Brother 'Neezer' Ebenezer - (played by Jason) had a strong history of being the good boy, the smart, polite kid that every teacher loves. Never sinned, and sublimating his powerful urges to do so by chopping (whence his big, excellent axe).
• Brother Jereboam - (played by Keeley) also had a strong history, but as a mummy's boy bookworm, forced to memorise the Book of Life (2d10), and with a surprisingly good singing voice (1d8). He had never shot at a living thing (1d6), either and despite all his book-learnin' was definitely wet behind the ears.
• Sister 'Cassie' Cassandra - (played by Mayuran) had a rather complicated community, born to an escaped slave who then married into the Faith. Cassie ran away from home, but the Faith brought her back (1d6). Her excursion was quite the adventure, she had a relationship with sin, having lain with another woman (2d4).

Chargen General
Character creation took quite a lot longer than I expected (getting on for two hours), at least in part because Jason was keen to stretch and test the process, and understand how they were enforced. I was happy to indulge that, because it reinforced the interaction of other players into the creation of his character. The most contentious (in a thoroughly good-natured way) were Neezer's belongings. We agreed that he could reasonably have a pair of bone dice (see below), but naughty French daguerrotypes and a flask of gutrot were pretty much out of the question for his stated character concept. When he also suggested that his brother, the crazy prospector, had given him four sticks of dynamite, my inner devil said "Sure! Why the hell not? Just let's seem him choose to use that dynamite on the pregnant lady," but the other players vetoed successfully. Despite taking so long, I think this was valuable time: I suspect Jason will be more comfortable trusting the mechanic rather than testing it next time.

Accomplishments

• Brother Elisha hoped to solve a serious conflict without resorting to violence. I had him teaching another Dog to ride, starting when Brother Simeon had just fallen off Elisha's hoss again, and refused to get back on. After some non-violent physical activity, Elisha succeeded. I missed the opportunity to spread this out over several days, but it worked out.
• Brother Neezer hoped to unmask a gambler in the Dogs' Temple. Returning to Br. Artax' class, he was surprised to find the Brother playing with two bone dice and reading a book called "How To Win At Craps". He became enraged by sin (4d8), and Jason narrated the furious little prig delightfully. Br. Artax was utterly crushed, and left, his reputation in tatters, his service done. Neezer kept the dice.
• Brother Jereboam hoped to stand up to a bully. Returning from the Dogs' Temple to his mother in Bridal Falls, he was surrounded by the pestilential band of somewhat younger boys who'd so frequently bullied him before. Chief among them: Br. Phineas, who knocked him against the wall, bad-mouthed his mother and was a poisonous little prick. Jereboam seized on Phineas' referring to his mother as a 'bitch', and rode the tide of verbatim scripture to put the bully in his place.
• Sister Cassie's accomplishment was a bit tricky to frame: she'd sinned in the past, and wanted to confront that sin in some way. Ultimately she hoped to put her sins behind her. Shortly before leaving Bridal Falls, she got a note from her erstwhile lover, Julia, begging for a meeting on the edge of town. Despite the love-lorn exhortations of her temptress, Cassie managed to resist, and bolstered by her calling opened the way for Julia to join the faith. She took women like me for my Faith as her accomplishment trait, which I loved.

Some Colour
Since my partner and I had been to Zion Natl. Park in March of '04, I had some great photos of the park in the snow, and I picked a few to slap up on the TV to give the players a sense of place. I don't think it had any effect on the play, whatsoever, but it made me happy (they're good photos): a bunch of flat-topped mountains, a pass, a path, a creek.

The Town: Green Creek Pass (http://www.ajnewman.net/~ajn/ditv/greencreek.1.html)

• As they rode closer to Green Creek Pass, it got colder and colder. There was still plenty of snow on the ground and it should be long gone by now. Something's already wrong here, demonic influence at work, no doubt about it. [I explicitly told the players this.]. As they ride into town at sundown, there's an unusual sight: a young man of sixteen or so has been pilloried in the snow, two women stand anxiously by, and the younger, Sister Ruth, runs towards the Dogs the moment she sees them, begging them to release Brother McCaleb from the icy stocks. Since it was apparent (I'd told them) that the boy would die that night otherwise, Sister Cassie, a midwife and healer (1d6), immediately did so, as Brother Neezer demanded to know why he was there. By the time McCaleb's out of the stocks, we know that he was put there by order of Steward Credence.

Discussing later with the players, there was a mistake here on my part: it took a minute (realtime) for Jason to consider that Neezer wouldn't have wanted McCaleb released if he was put there by the Steward. I should have held Cassie's action until the others had a chance to respond and initiated a conflict between them. Instead, we acknowledged that the pillory was unusual enough, but in this weather? Something unjust was going on; Jason was a tiny bit reluctant at this early stage to interrupt (as I think he saw it), so we let it ride. A mistake, I think.

• Like I said, the boy was dying. In fact, he was going to die unless someone did something. Sister Cassie got right on the case of saving McCaleb, initiating a conflict against 4d6+2d10 demonic influence. Wrapping him in Cassie's coat, they carried him to his father's general store nearby, which despite the blazing stove was only marginally warmer than the outdoors. At last, just as the frosty puffs of McCaleb's breath ceased, Sister Cassie called him back to life by name, and he began to recover. Meanwhile, the other Dogs were interrogating Sister Ruth and the McCaleb's mother, Sr. Rosemary, learning that he'd been falsely accused of stealing and vandalising the Meeting Hall. Apparently, the Steward's wife, Sister Hannah, used to be a Dog, and ended up with no fewer than six worn and fragile coats that her husband had hung up in the Meeting House as inspiration. With McCaleb pulled back from the brink of death, the Dogs left the building for a quick consult.
• Oustide, with Sister Cassie feeling the cold's bite, the Dogs decided to pay the Steward a visit and figure out why he's ordered McCaleb put in the stocks and left there in this terrible cold. Returning to the store, where McCaleb was being wrapped in blankets and given a warm - not hot - drink, Cassie recovered her coat, and off they went.

Alas, they didn't stop and ask Br. Noah, McCaleb's father what was up. I should have had him interject his problems and blaming Br. Luke right off the bat. My mistake: he just didn't feature except as scenery. Talking of which, at this point I completely forgot one of my favourite bits of demonic influence: the gunshot sounds coming from the creek as the ice shatters and re-forms nightly. Curses.

• A tall woman in her mid forties answered the door of the Steward's house: Sister Hannah, carrying an air of some authority and dignity, was also evidently pregnant. Not 9th-month huge, but an unmistakeable second trimester bump. She welcomed the Dogs and sat everyone down in the parlour - she in her rocking chair. Neezer demanded to see the Steward, and when Sister Hannah explained that he was mighty sick and currently bedridden, he stomped off upstairs to interrogate Br. Credence. Moments later, the boy from the stocks walked in, hale and hearty: McCaleb's identical twin brother, Thomas, apparently helping out around the Steward's house while Credence was bedridden, and Sr. Hannah was with child. [I told the players that Thomas and Hannah were hiding something]. Cassie took Br. Thomas off to the kitchen to 'help sort the mail' (thank you, Mr. Lehman!) leaving Jereboam and Elisha quizzing Hannah about the town. They established that, while the Steward was poorly, Sr. Hannah had taken on some of his duties: she managed to make it sound entirely natural, given her status as a former Dog, and one of such lengthy and distinguished service.
• In the kitchen, Sr. Cassie launched into an immediate conflict to find out what was bugging Br. Thomas about his brother, McCaleb. [If I recall correctly, I think I negotiated this down from from having "what's going on here?" stakes, which seemed too big.] McCaleb easily dodged Cassie's attempts to open him up with talk, but when she touched his hand gently [escalating to physical], he became very upset, and in the end spilled the beans: McCaleb rejected Sr. Hannah's advances, Thomas didn't and ended up suffering from priapism unless he had sex with the Steward's wife daily. He knew it was sinful, but Sister Hannah was the Steward's wife, and had been a Dog for so long, and she said it was OK. Cassie dragged him past the parlor to the front door and sent him home to his father; Sr. Hannah's only comment: "He'll be back soon enough."

I was concerned that introducing Thomas' involuntary erections could derail us into adolescent amusement, but needn't have worried: a quick explanation that the condition was rapidly extremely painful put it in suitable context for the players as an affliction that could be appalling for a sixteen-year old in a small community of the Faithful. Alas, I never touched on his desire to be a Dog, which was an oversight: I think it would have played well into Cassie's lesbian entanglement.

• Meanwhile, upstairs, Neezer's little chat with the Steward required him to rouse a sickly old man from slumber. Soon enough he established that Credence had been bedridden for some time, thought that ordering McCaleb into the stocks was a dream, though McCaleb and Thomas were of an age to be scrumping apples, and was pretty much out of it. Oh, and that he'd never had sex with his wife. Neezer was aghast, and stormed downstairs to confront Sister Hannah with her adultery.
• The stage was set for an almighty confrontation, as Neezer stormed back into the parlor, slammed his axe into the middle of the small table, and demanded to know who the unborn child's father was. Sister Hannah was adamant she had done no wrong, that she was having the child that she was owed for decades of service to the King of Life, that her pregnancy was righteous - until she flinched [taking the blow] from Jereboam's use of ceremony, and, realised that she was indeed a sorceress. She gave, acknowledged that Thomas was the father, and insisted that she was in the right: the demons were with her, the room got colder, and we launched into a follow-on conflict: do the Dogs exorcise her Demons?
• Neezer invoked the Ancients [Raise], but citing her experience as an ex-Dog, Hannah laughed off this whelp of a Dog's feeble attempt to intimidate her [Block], rising uncannily out of her rocking chair, eyes and belly aglow [calling on the Demons]: the temperature in the room dropped suddenly to painfully cold temperatures [Raise]. Several of the Dogs were hard pressed by the cold [mixed Dodge and Take the Blow], but Elisha managed to tear open Hannah's dress and anoint her with the Sacred Earth [Raise], Hannah screamed and fell back into the chair, the dry mud flaking off her in a billow of scalding steam [Took the Blow]. Cassie, knowing that women like her for her Faith, called on Hannah, by name [Raise, Blocked, I forget exactly how] and as Jereboam started to recite from memory the Book of Life [Raise] the temperature in the room raised a little [Blow Taken].
• Neezer, enraged by sin, swung his axe at Hannah's belly [Raise], and was horrified when Hannah hissed at him, her tongue extending to wrap around the axe's haft and fend off the blow [Block]. Hannah grabbed Elisha's forearm and attempted to throw him accross the room [Raise, to physical violence], but bolstered by Neezer [Reciting the Book of Life], Elisha was merely pushed back from Hannah [Block, with a Helping die from Neezer.] Elisha swung out his excellent rifle, and pointed it directly at Hannah's belly [Raise], but when an eye blinked open and looked down the barrel of the gun, and he realised it looked just like his late mother's, he dropped the rifle, firing wildly into the air [Reversed]. Struck with the evidence that Hannah bore no innocent child, Cassie let fly with her pistol [Raise, but the bullets just sank into Hannah's belly, breast and forehead without leaving a mark [Dodge]. Jereboam, who had a surprisingly good singing voice (1d8), Sang the Praises of the King of Life [Raise], causing Hannah's ears to blister and wither as steam poured from them [Take the Blow].
  

Thoughts and questions
- Several of my improvised responses made nonsense of the timeline and pride ladder. That didn't bother anyone during play at all - nobody noticed - but in talking over what worked and didn't for the town, the inconsistencies were glaring. I think this is a function of my failing to nail down

- I let Jason put his big 3d10 into Neezer's sublimates through chopping trait, which he did use in the end, but really drives him towards putting axes in the Faithful - which would probably get a bit old in ongoing play, and lent a note of the absurd to the tone.

- Coming up with appropriate stages for accomplishments was hard. I think we ended up doing OK, but finding scenes with the right stakes was a challenge. Any tips?

- The extreme supernatural was just about working, although pushing the boundaries of what the group expected or bought, until someone actually used the word 'hentai,' which deflated it a bit, and made it obviously more than we wanted to go with. Although I didn't have hentai imagery in mind - I was thinking much more Linda Blair - it certainly fit with the action. I found it very interesting that labelling the style appeared to render the tone instantly cartoony. Perhaps I should have got there first with another genre.

- I suck at remembering the sequence of events: although I think I touched on most of the details of the final conflict, I'm pretty sure it didn't happen in that order. Any good techniques for annotating conflicts?

- I have no idea if the photos made any difference to the players at all. I'm interested to know, and forgot to ask. Well, gentlemen?

- Rules: at one point, Hannah wanted to throw Elisha at Jereboam; Elisha only had dice enough to Take the Blow. I said that if Elisha managed to Block or Dodge with assistance, Jereboam wouldn't have to See that Raise. Was that correct?

- Rules: is the GM obligated to explain or describe traits he brings in for NPCs? When I brought in Thomas' embarrassment that was fine and dandy, but explaining the Priapism (2d4) pre-figured the dramatic revelation thereof in the conflict itself, which was somewhat anticlimactic.

- Rules: can Demons still act against sorcerers? For example, does it make sense for the demons to obey Sr. Hannah at the same time as giving her monstrous cramps if she doesn't have sex? Or would that better be a trigger for her to become a sorceress?

this was an interesting town, mate.

just to clarify, I didn't play in Luke's town, but two players from my regular crew (Ryan and Jason - not the one from this game) did.  I heard about it second hand through them and from Luke.  This is the first time I played Dogs with peeps I didn't know, so I was reflecting on their experience.

Luke's game seemed to be a good example of clash of play-styles as well as interpretations of what DiTV can do, what it does well, and how the mechanics can be used to solve conflicts between players.  Also, since I think some of us in this particular session were on different sides of some theory discussions on the nerd forums, I was concerned to see how that would come up at the table.

My conclusion, in that regard, is that different interpretations of theory and different understandings of what role-playing is did not lead to dysfunctional play at the table.  It may have affected enjoyment of the mechanics and system, but other folks would have to chime in about that.

I hope I didn't come off with a "my interpretation of how the game is supposed to be played is the right one" attitude.

As this was a "one shot" and not a prelude to longer term play, some of the things that didn't work in the town reflect that.  Particularly the level of supernatural.  In general, the players and GM should decide and consense on that before-hand.  I don't think any of us had incorporated any "supernatural" traits during character creation (such as "I exorcised a demon 1d8" which would have also indicated our expectations or desires about supernatural.

As a player, I think the "demon baby" changed the game for me because the issues or themes that I had explored with the character were things about gender and sexuality, family and loyalty.

Quote from: Iskander on October 16, 2005, 07:01:24 PM
- Rules: at one point, Hannah wanted to throw Elisha at Jereboam; Elisha only had dice enough to Take the Blow. I said that if Elisha managed to Block or Dodge with assistance, Jereboam wouldn't have to See that Raise. Was that correct?

I'm not sure if you remember this part about this example.  When Alexander had Hannah throw Br. Elisha towards Jereboam, there was a bit of a discussion amongst the players about "who was going to contribute helping dice."  In the course of this, I mentioned to the other players "tell me what you're going to do, and I'll tell you if I want to help."  That is to say, if Jason had narrating Ebenezer going at Hannah with the ax, I would have contributed a helping dice to the GM's side (this is before the baby was revealed as a demon).  Jason ended up contributing the sole helping dice to Anthony, but his narration was "I put my hand on his back to hold him up" so I didn't contribute.

There was potential for me to be in a situation where I sided with an NPC against the Dogs (as there was in the scene in the snow, which we may have passed up on intentionally), and when the "baby" became just a "demon" that changed.

But the conflict itself went, mechanically, quite well. 

Jason's questions and the things he tried to push us on were his way of exploring what Dogs as a system is capable of or about, if I'm not mistaken.  At the same time, I think have dice 3d10 and 4d8 in different stats has a min-maxing element to it - which only works if the player realizes that he's saying "This is what my character is ABOUT."  Jason figured that out pretty fast.  I think he commented that his ability to roleplay the character was hampered by the traits that he had (correct me if I'm wrong).

Our follow up discussion was interesting because I THINK the players were asking for a way to "stretch out" the information gathering part of the story.  That is to say, people thought we went for Sister Hannah ("the big bad") too soon.  We did miss a whole set of other personal problems and conflicts in the town, because we ended up with Sister Hannah quite early.  However, I think I was confused in the discussion because I thought the other players were asking for more "trailblazing / illusionist" elements.  Am I wrong there?  Is it more about "how do we lay things out so that we can have MORE conflicts before the FINAL one?"

Some of my other thoughts are based on reflections after playing in a few sessions of Dogs.

Conflicts always run the risk of falling a bit on the gamist side - lots of looking at the dice and keeping conflicts going longer than they needed to be just to win.  I think, in reflection of the times I've played and GMed, the role of the GM should be to "push the players as far as they can go - escalate, give them fallout, etc."

however, if we're playing together and jason does something really awesome, and I (the GM) am pretty low on dice - and jason has already escalated, and even taken serious fallout, should I have the instinct to GIVE or should folks tell me to GIVE? After all - he just made an awesome raise and pushed himself, plus put some sweet dice on the table.

(GIVE, mayuran, instead of, say, following an instinct to stretch the conflict out another round - even though the dice show that jason is eventually going to succeed)?  That is to say, is a GM's success in a conflict based on "how far did I push the players?  What did I make them DO?" as opposed to, did I make the Dogs "give" or lose, or win just because I ran out of dice.

What do you think?

Thanks for the feedback, Mayuran! I agree: I think the group functioned well, everybody seemed to have enjoyed themselves, and I felt that everyone was engaged in play quite significantly. Jason's interest in the game itself was another dimension to the session, but didn't detract from it, in my view.

The demon baby was fun (probably mostly for me), but very stupid: I confess, I got totally carried away with narrating evil-demon-baby-wierdness to creep everyone out, and lost sight of what would give the conflict real impact: having a demon sorceress heavily pregnant with an explicitly innocent unborn child, and having her up the stakes to put the Dogs' lives in peril. Make it about saving the baby - or not - and everyone's got to make choices. (I can't believe I forgot to note that last night, but next Saturday, the baby's most definitely not demonic.)

My read of the post-game discussion was that, although it was OK getting to the heart of the problem in the time we had, a more gradual reveal would be more satisfying. I think I can manage that in two ways: first, have Br. Noah actually present, with his wants, but have him aimed at Br. Luke more. Second, re-jig Thomas and McCaleb's relationships with Hannah, and possibly - as Jason suggested - move Thomas out of the Steward's house when the Dogs come calling. It will be of great use for me to plot the pregnancy in such a way that it's conceivable old Credence got his wife pregnant, but unlikely.

I definitely need more dice tactics up my sleeve: with the high dice I kept getting, and the miserable rolls the Dogs came up with, there should have been quite a bit more giving and following-on.

- Alexander

First of all, thanks very much to Iskander for running a great game for us.  Your preparation was top-notch, and you were a most gracious host.  I had a very good time, and enjoyed playing with you and the others.  Where my dogs at?

The photo slideshow that you made helped my enjoyment quite noticeably.  When we began to play, I felt a great sense of place.  At the end of play, the beautiful pictures of thawing snow really did feel like a reward.

Also, K.D. Lang's "Big Boned Gal" was a nice touch during the confrontations with Hannah.

I really appreciate that no one was too annoyed with my min/max style character choices.  It's not my normal routine to power-game a character, but it allowed me to test the structural integrity of the bones of the system. Everyone was very cool about it.

I'd like to play DiTV again, because there were only about 4 conflicts (plus the character creation ones) during the one shot, and I'd like a wider range of experience before I pass any firm judgements.  Any comments I make about the game, I would consider to be under-informed.  But I've never let that stop me from having an opinion.

The 'player veto' rule became very important for keeping me in my proper place during gameplay.  I kept trying to test the relationship mechanic by having my crazy brother Enus appear with his dynamite at the local store, in the villain's basement, and anywhere I could.  Player veto kept Enus from ever rearing his ugly head.

However, for a game that seeks to empower players with narrative capabilities, the main thing this meant was that instead of the DM saying "no, jason your stupid fucking brother enus isn't in the basement", it was the other players that had to say it.

I found the die mechanic to be very fun and very strategic, but I did not find it at all helpful in heightening the drama.  Our freeform moments were very dramatic,  then when it became time to roll and raise, the energy level dropped, and the narration became labored.  Each see and raise seemed to mold the narrative unnaturally, it seemed akin to a moderated presidential debate or something. 

Mtiru suggested that we were too unfamiliar with the mechanic, thus it sort of bogged down narration instead of empowering it.  I can see that, that's one reason I'd like to try the game again.

As I mentioned during dinner, I'm skeptical of any die mechanic that includes the phrase "and you HAVE TO narrate it".  Because if  "HAVE TO" is in all caps, it makes me think that that the game is trying to cover up an integral dramatic weakness.

Of all the many things I learned about the game on Saturday, the one that impressed me the most was the town-building structure.  I love Love LOVE "pride leads to specific injustice, to sin"

thanks again, Isk for a great afternoon!

Mayuran (that's you, mtiru, right?):

QuoteThat is to say, is a GM's success in a conflict based on "how far did I push the players?  What did I make them DO?" as opposed to, did I make the Dogs "give" or lose, or win just because I ran out of dice.

Astute! That's exactly right.

-Vincent

Yah. Exactly why the demon baby was stupid... and a human baby much more fun. Of course you're going to swing at the demon bump with an axe; whereas would you hit a sorceress with an axes? Even if she's pregnant? is a much more interesting question to pose. I understand... I'll find out Saturday if I grok.

Quote from: jzn on October 17, 2005, 12:29:19 PM
The photo slideshow that you made helped my enjoyment quite noticeably.  When we began to play, I felt a great sense of place.  At the end of play, the beautiful pictures of thawing snow really did feel like a reward.

yeah, the colour provided by the photos indicated the amount of prep time that Alexander had put in.  he travelled all the way to Utah just to take those photos for us. i echo jason's comments about feeling a sense of place.  at the same time, i would have had just as much fun without the photo images but probably would have asked for more description.

Quote from: jzn on October 17, 2005, 12:29:19 PMI really appreciate that no one was too annoyed with my min/max style character choices.  It's not my normal routine to power-game a character, but it allowed me to test the structural integrity of the bones of the system. Everyone was very cool about it.

i think it would have been different if it was 4d8, "i'm an excellent swordsman" and your character was designed to be a killing machine.  the character concept was entertaining despite the min-maxing, and watching you test the system was equally interesting.

Quote from: jzn on October 17, 2005, 12:29:19 PM
The 'player veto' rule became very important for keeping me in my proper place during gameplay.  I kept trying to test the relationship mechanic by having my crazy brother Enus appear with his dynamite at the local store, in the villain's basement, and anywhere I could.  Player veto kept Enus from ever rearing his ugly head.

for my part, this was less "player veto" and more "the relationship mechanics don't work that way."  one of the limits of a one-shot, i guess.  for my part, i took relationships with every single NPC so that i could use my dice - at the same time i'd spent them in character creation on things that definitely would not be appearing in the game.

Quote from: jzn on October 17, 2005, 12:29:19 PM
I found the die mechanic to be very fun and very strategic, but I did not find it at all helpful in heightening the drama.  Our freeform moments were very dramatic,  then when it became time to roll and raise, the energy level dropped, and the narration became labored.  Each see and raise seemed to mold the narrative unnaturally, it seemed akin to a moderated presidential debate or something. 

Mtiru suggested that we were too unfamiliar with the mechanic, thus it sort of bogged down narration instead of empowering it.  I can see that, that's one reason I'd like to try the game again.

and the group i played with hasn't figured out completely either.  we sit around a lot between sees and raises, trying to figure out what to "say/do."  i'm trying to push for "if you've run out of things to say, escalate" but there is a point where folks are still struggling i think with being empowered as narrators.

for example, Jason, your raises and sees were often long and dramatic spiels from his character.  do you think it would be easier for you as a narrator to break those rants up and spread them out? or is it more that you thought of something really good to say but were limited in what you could say by your "turn"?

mayuran

Hey, any chance of making that slide show public?

-Vincent

Sure. I'll see if I can't upload a bunch of photos of Zion National Park in the snow to flickr, or something.

The title of the town description (http://www.ajnewman.net/~ajn/ditv/greencreek.1.html) is now a link to the images I used (http://www.ajnewman.net/~ajn/ditv/greencreek.images.html). The first four were prelude, the last three were epilogue.

As I said, my beloved took many more, but alas, I've not had time to scan them exhaustively. He may have a slide scanner in his future (say, around Christmas-time if you know what I mean), whereupon some more high-quality scans of that trip could be made available.

- Alexander

Man. Those pics are breathtaking. It's such a pity we didn't go to Zion when we were around. There was something with our caravan not beeing able to make the road, I recall. Thanks for sharing.

- Frank

One other thing that has only really struck home with this thread from the lumpley board (http://www.indie-rpgs.com/forum/index.php?topic=17295.0), about what's a Person and what's Furniture:

Quote from: Ron EdwardsBasically, divide up everything the characters deal with into "people" and "furniture." The tricky part (to a gamer) is that sometimes things like "the door" or "the pit" or "the mountain" are people, and sometimes things like "the soldier" or "the messenger" or "the chambermaid" are furniture.

<snip>

If you figure that your hayseed, colorful farmer is a Person in your game, and expect some cool conflict to occur, but your players decide for whatever reason that he's furniture, you are in for a world of dysfunctional shit when you keep trying to force conflict, and to make it be fun. It won't be.

I had rolled two batches of proto-NPCs, expecting to populate them with the many named folk of the town. Out of twelve, I used three, and only two in direct conflicts. Everyone else was furniture, although the demonic cold was a Person. ::lightbulb::

Sounds like some excellent concepts to work with though. If I may suggest, if you ever arrive at the "root of all evil" too soon in a Dogs session, that just means they're still in town for the fallout. I've gotten more mileage out of the Dogs having to reign in the revenge violence after they find the guilty than any other situation.

What happens when the Steward finds the dogs have murdered his wife? What about the father of the baby? Evil or not, it's still his!

Don't worry about lengthening the lead-in for the next group, Instead, spin out the rest of the story for them. This is where they have to really think about their actions, and see how everyone else has to live with what they've done. My PCs are always strong enough to take it, but the players go home thinking.

I miss the Utah landscape bad. Thanks for the pictures!

-Vincent