The Forge Archives

Well, the holidays are over, and we've started to get back into the swing of playing again. For those who haven't read the previous threads about this campaign, in summary, this is a protagonist-driven, narrativist game of D&D.

You can find the previous threads at Non-silly D&D and Raven's 3E Game.

For the past few sessions, I've been somewhat lost with "what to do" as a GM, or more correctly, "what to provide the players," even though the players have given me a excellent material to riff on and are pursuing their motivations with vigor.

I was thinking part of my problem stemmed from the fact that I didn't just get to the bang after their last adventure ended. I could have easily narrated the group's arrival on the surface and an unimpeded trek back to the borderlands of the empire, where the action would have picked right up as they attempted to illegally cross in order to pursue the goal of saving one character's family.

However, I had the group use AGWAG to see what happened, and the players set up some obstacles and new conflicts for themselves! (as detailed in the Raven's 3E Game thread)

These were some great developments, but I wonder if it was the wrong time for it? If the addition of new and competing conflicts was in a fashion anti-climatic? Would it have worked out better for us to just get right to the city?

Given the way things are currently going, however, I've found that the competing conflicts added depth by forcing player decisions about what and who was more important.

Even so, I still can't figure out why I felt so lost for a couple sessions?
Lost, meaning: I had all this great material I was working with, but I felt as though I was floundering through it all trying to do my job as GM and highlight "the good stuff" (ie: playing bass to keep the game focused).

We didn't just go to the bang after their last adventure ended, and I was expecting we would; since we didn't, and since there were a number of facets of the game I, as GM, wanted to emphasize and expand upon as well, I went with those items instead of just skimming over and discarding what the players had intentionally developed.

Now all this material was either developed by the players, or highlights the issues of the campaign through its active mythology and its society. It is ultimately relevant to the Premises of "family" and "responsibility" that have been present in our game, rather than being "just filler" or "just obstacles" for sessions, which I wanted to avoid completely.

Specifically, the most immediate of the new conflicts revolved around an encampment of bandits -- men and women exiled from the empire and their leader; to this I added an ancient, evil djinni the party is semi-responsible for releasing from its age-old prison.

But I think as a group we really wanted to get to the character's arrival at the city instead of dealing with an extensive new obstacle (in the form of the djinni).

Despite my thought on that, last night's game flowed smoothly and played out wonderfully, with the new elements providing an intensity to the session and the decisions made.

In fact, I spent the first hour in rapt and attentive silence, having done nothing more than give the opening dialogue (1). Despite having nothing more to do than watch my players interact, I thoroughly enjoyed doing so.

(1)The "opening dialogue" is an intense frame of the current scene, usually including a summary of the highlights of the last session(s) and any other story-relevant info...its our "mood music," and it works really well to switch our gears from "socializing" to "gaming" mode. It can vary from a few short lines -- as did last night's -- to a paragraph or two.

The characters were in conflict among themselves about the path they would take. The crux of this conflict was character-driven, and a lynch-pin of the current game: the desire of the defacto leader of the group to return home to save her family from the danger to them she was warned about. Throughout, she has been driving to return home despite any other concerns in order to save them.

Consider: she has thus far denied a vengeful goddess to pursue this goal, and everyone else has willingly tagged along (for their own reasons).

But after a confrontation with a powerful (and angry) priestess of the god of storms (the Eld Sister) last session, and a warning about their way being blocked by an army of the dead they had already encountered once, her companions wanted to turn back and deal with the source of the army.

Thanks to the tangled web my players have woven among their characters, the situation wasn't even this simple.

The elf is secretly in love with the group's leader, and was thus torn between his own common sense and his desire to follow her.

For the priestess in this group, abandoning the Eld Sister was abandoning a sister of her own faith and thus her god. That following the leader would be heading into danger only strengthened her decision to turn away from the leader's quest.

For the dwarf, he feels his duty is to the group, to his companions...but with the group broken, he had nothing on which to base his decision!

The debate was intense and emotional, with the elf ultimately trying to play both sides and keep himself with his love. He and the dwarf tried to unify the group by acting together, hoping to convince their leader to put aside her personal desires for the moment and appeal to her sense of self-preservation.

The group's leader was left with was the decision to press on by herself or turn back and rejoin her companions. She chose to continue on alone, through the heart of an undead army, towards a city that would kill her on sight...to save her family.

Relevant, interesting, player-driven play.

Now the elf is pushing hard to find and defeat the djinni as quickly as possible, including forcing himself to march non-stop, in order to return to his love's side swiftly.

At this point I stepped in to declare and adjudicate some rolls: they forced themselves to march back the way they had come. Since time was of the essence, I played it out and had them roll fatigue damage until they decided to call a halt or simply collapsed. They chose to make as much time as they could.

And other than describing some scenes and voicing dialogue for the Eld Sister, who held information about the weaknesses of the djinni, I really didn't do much until the end of the game.

I usually like to end my sessions on one of two notes: either immediately after the climax of a session, where the characters are basking in the glory of the evening's great accomplishment, or on a bang, at the flash-point before the action begins, but not before they know the action is hurtling inevitably their way...a cliffhanger.

Last night's session ended with the priestess betraying them to the djinni; she trapped them in a cavern with the creature blocking the only exit...

So, that was our actual play, but a question arose for me from the night's events about running games where the characters are in seperate locations. I find I'm not certain how to do this well, hence I ask...

...What are the techniques those who have used this narrativist technique can recommend? Is there any literature I can read on doing it and how to handle it?

Specifically, there a few pitfalls I've run into in the past when trying to do such and I want to avoid those. My biggest concern is concentrating too much time on any single character/group for too long at any one time, followed by not giving enough time to any single character/group.

The big problem is that we have limited time to play, excerbated by the fact that we're playing on IRC (which slows things down notably from a tabletop session, though you can't really tell during play).

One situation I've had crop up is a player is being slow to decide during their screen-time. This is a problem because I've had games stalled by players who couldn't "get into the groove" during their turn, or didn't get in until right at the end of their time -- in either case, it killed the overall feel of tension/interest and pacing during the session.

How should the GM handle this when he sees it developing? I have thought of jumping back to the previous group/individual, or another group/individual, with the caveat, "When you decide what you're going to do, I'll get back to you."

So, any advice at all about running characters in seperate locales that can be given or pointed to would be appreciated!

Here's a few useful tips you can use:

•The same logic behind when to end a session(post-climax/new bang) is the same sort of logic you should use in individual scenes.  Either just as something major happens(someone gets knocked off a cliff, dramatic dialogue, etc.), you cut away to someone else, or, just as something major occurs that changes the situation(reinforcements arrive, catwalk gives way, etc.), you cut away.

•For dithering players, cut away, and try to conceive of something, anything, to happen to them when you come back to them.  

•Third, if you're players are cool with OOC knowledge, you can cut away to things not known by any of the players, such as the villian's designs/actions, NPC's in danger, etc, to heighten tension.  

Since the players are audience, the same sort of things that work for audiences in tv and movies can be applied here.    It may serve as another means to kick the unsure players into action.  If the audience knows that someone is lying, even if the characters don't, it tends to serve as a foreshadowing to the eventual conflict where the truth comes forward.

Sounds like a great game, I look forward to hearing more.

Chris

Hi Raven,

Have you re-read Chapter 4 in Sorcerer, Chapter 7 in Sorcerer & Sword, and Chapter 4 in The Sorcerer's Soul recently? I'd be interested in what you think.

I'm also interested in whether you've reviewed the rules-use of your play relative to the actual text of the rulebook.

Best,
Ron

Ron,

The Forge somehow ate my previous response to this, so allow me to attempt to reconstruct it.

First, I have read Chapter Six, and Chapters Four in the other two supplements a few times. It's great reference material, and full of stuff I thought I knew but had forgotten.

In glancing at them again right now, I note that they mostly constitute social-game behaviors and GM techniques for running the kinds of games our D&D sessions are turning out like.

I note we are successfully avoiding the "dungeon mode" of role-playing (Sorc. p67). Our set-up for the game, however, wasn't a get-together and co-development deal, and due our past gaming, our reaction as a group is still to sometimes play character things close to the chest when we shouldn't (however, this is improving dramatically).

The game started before I really had any idea of doing things this way (and I tell you, the first year's worth of sessions were painful until that bolt struck me and I finally got it). Heck, I even bitch and moan about the problems here.

Neither the group nor I has decided on a good stopping point for the game. We don't know how long this will last, but I'm thinking we'll run through this series of established conflicts, stopping when we feel like it. Some of those conflicts can be drawn out, or we can choose to resolve them more quickly, depending on what the group feels like doing, if we're getting bored with it or it seems like a good point to stop.

I have set-up a backstory, of course, that's one of the things I did for prep before, but not the way Sorcerer details it. Now, however, events are or have unfolded that involve the characters rather directly.

What I most like about this now is that I don't even need those old back-story prep notes, and they would be out-of-place anyways for the game (simply going back to the "It's my world, it's my story" mode we started in)...the characters have set-up their own difficult conflicts, building on and into events of the game.

Consider, the emperor wouldn't be enslaved to a mad sorcerer's will if they hadn't brought the Heart of the Queen of Dragons out of its hiding place, and along with it the same mad sorcerer. This was all backstory created in the initial scenario, before I had a handle on running it as I am now. Whether or not they chose to use that material as important for the more recent games has been their decision, though they have.

The big stuff now is the mythology behind everything. The death and ressurection of the fallen sun god in ancient times; the evil of the Lord of Night; the god of storms and the Queen of Dragons, and a variety of other beings of myth that influence very directly the shape of the campaign and have invested interest certain events therein (specifically the actions of the characters).

The ending and the possibilities there are something I've thought about for each character. There are so many ways it can work out for each. The current question is about family and responsibility: can they save the leader's family? Yes or no, obviously...but beyond that, what happens then? Happily ever after, or screwed and fleeing, though safe-for-the-moment?

And what about the other characters?

The princess still has her father to deal with, and an entire empire beyond that...how is she going to handle a man who is her flesh-and-blood, but treats her like an aggravating pawn because that's what his culture tells him to do.

And then there's that mysterious pregnancy issue she has to come to terms with...who is the father, how did she get pregnant...and the big one, what does she DO with the kid? Will she use the kid, abandon it, cherish it? Will it matter who the father is? Will it matter who the father is if she finds out who the father is?

And so on for the other two.

We're definitely doing it the hard way. Each character has links to the others, some developed prior to play, some developed during play. The most poignant of the former is the elf's love for the human woman he follows.

The player of the dwarf is really firm about his character's committment to honor and clan: that's what he's about in his own words...and has adopted the group as his surrogate clan.

The princess is linked to the others only by the fact that they're all going in the same direction at the moment: back to the capital city. It is doubtful she actually cares about the fate of any of the rest of them...and her quick abandonment of them last session highlighted that quite nicely.

Her previous character, a dwarf, was bound to the other dwarf by clan and blood (and it was the player's choice to form that bond), but she really wanted to play the priestess and deal with her conflicts (which are, quite honestly, very interesting and engaging).

I'm not having much trouble with Bangs or Pacing, though one area I know I need to improve is knowing what each scene is supposed to achieve. At times, I completely forget what the hell the group is doing and stumble around trying to figure it out. This is much worse when the players don't have an idea about it, either.

Stance-wise, I think we're all firmly in Actor mode, though I feel a hint of Authorship creeping in (which is a good thing, IMO). I'm actively encouraging the use of Director stance, so I don't have to respond to every question: "Are there rocks here?" and so forth. I've told them to go ahead and assume it, and I'll veto it only if necessary. I've very rarely had to veto anything (if ever, as I don't recall a situation where I did).

The section that begins at the bottom of pg80 of &Sword is more or less my holy writ. It is precisely the way we're doing things and the way we're playing. I don't believe I need to clarify that with examples, as my posts are full of them.

Scale-wise, each session unit is more like a half-hour TV show in an on-going series, or short chapters in a novel, each comprising no more than a scene or two. Ultimately, it could last indefinitely -- that is, it could spark a sequel or two -- but the writers could also end the series right there.

I'm shooting for between 8 to 10 sessions per level up, and one to two levels up per scenario (usually two). So consider that a given scenario lasts about six months (with holidays, interruptions from being sick or working late, etc). We're coming to the close of the current scenario right now, which should be a few sessions away (the saving of the family and (possibly) the final confrontation with the mad sorcerer, etc).

Our play in this game isn't focused so much around the traditional survival or information gathering: the players have a set goal for their characters, and they are each actively engaged in attempting to achieve that goal.

Yes, surviving is obviously a big part of achievement, but it definitley isn't the largest portion. "How do I achieve my goal?" has replaced "Will I survive?" or "What's all this about?" as the main subtextual question in the game, and I think it shows. Not that either question is absent from play, but they are secondary concerns to watching the characters themselves behave, act and react.

As to scenario preparation and play and Bangs, I think we've got them all down very nicely. Things didn't start out in this game that way, and it was more than a year before we started getting this stuff, so not all the text in &Sword about developing a scenario is applicable to our experience...though almost all of it was retrofitted, and rather nicely, I think, to produce the current game.

Honestly, between the current scenario and the first one, it feels very much like two entirely different games. The players are the driving force of conflicts, with me providing Bangs to highlight and showcase their various struggles...moments of important decision which reveal the characters to the players. That I barely had to do anything this last session, other than the stuff I should be doing as a facilitator, shows that.

Obviously, things aren't perfect, as I pointed out in my last post -- I got lost, the players got lost, and we stumbled around for a few sessions trying to figure out what we were doing. I obviously didn't do my job well enough during those sessions, but everything turned out well once I managed to refocus. Prior to that, sessions had been running smoothly for some time.

And I find I'm avoiding the usual trap of railroading, though I can tell that this game was suffering exactly from such for quite a long time: the whole door scenario given in my little rant (linked to above) was a case of obvious railroading by me. Most of the scenes I recall from that scenario were also railroading..."it was obvious what the characters SHOULD do, from a story-standpoint, I just had to get them there" thinking which, of course, was a big part of what was fucking everything up utterly.

Previously, I couldn't find it, though I wanted to, but now I find a strong relationship map underlying the group's efforts and goals: we have family as the strongest connections -- the actual driving force of the current scenario. Crazed sorcerer desires to do harm to character's family and possibly controls the minds of another character's family. (What's this guy's motivation for all this? Oh, he thinks he's saving the world.)

That's just the central portion of the map...I have gods connected to it, as well. The god of the sun is the progenitor of the emperor's line (and interested in the welfare of such), and thus also of the princess character, who is serving a different god and attempting to give him more power by sacrificing the power-focus of a goddess to him...a goddess involved because that focus is currently being used by the crazed sorcerer to enslave the emperor's court.

On the "side" we have a lustful desert prince whose advances towards one character are conflicting with the growing feelings of love another character has for the same; and yet the same prince's hatred for that character's people (and their emperor...the father of another character) add more spice.

And etc. I realize that just scratches the surface. Sorry, it's getting late, and I'm getting tired. I know that all the above is probably more than you're looking for, but I thought you might be interested to hear about the various methods in action, or my perception of them in action, at least.

So, ultimately, what do I think about the material in the various chapters of the various Sorcerer books? It works. Do I really need to say anything else?

In regards to your second query, after you mentioned the possibility last time, and pointed out the items that it appeared we were dodging based on the information I wrote up, I've been paying much more attention to this.

As stated in a previous post, we've tended to ignore alignment; however, we discussed it and found that is because most of my players, like me, don't get it, finding it too broad and fuzzy to pin down and make work. So I'm really unsure what to do with that one...there's no easy fix for it, no, "Ok, rules say we should do it this way."

We're still ignoring miniatures and the rules associated with them for obvious reasons -- it simply can't be helped -- but otherwise I find we're using the rules as-is. Could I prove it? No, probably not. You'll just have to take my word for it.

Well, I do have one house rule about wounds and combat (ie: damage in excess of HPs are applied to ability scores), and beyond that, everything is by the book. I didn't like how suddenly characters went from "I'm fine, do-dah" to "Arg! Unconscious! Dying!" so I created a buffer zone between them.

The only other thing I obviously do differently is how I prep and run the scenarios. However, I don't find I'm doing anything either against the rules, or downplaying/ignoring aspects of them to do so.

That is, the D&D rules do not say, "Thou shalt roll for wandering monsters and run pre-written dungeon crawls bereft of meaning," despite that most people do it that way.

Interestingly, the 3E DMG even explicitly calls the usual way D&D games are created and run "Bad Structure." The information the DMG does give about scenario construction is about using as the basis of all a given group's scenarios: motivation, choices, and tailored events created specifically to highlight the PC's abilities. (Sound familiar?)

Unfortunately, the ideas are muddled overall and the example text itself still infers the very sort of pre-scripted store-bought module-style encounters and information flow that is typical of traditional D&D role-playing (even as it tells GMs to avoid the very same).

Yet lurking beneath the dross, one can see the glimmer of techniques detailed in Sorcerer and hereabouts to create relevant, protagonizing, player-centered play. Obviously it doesn't come out and say it, and it confuses character-motivation with player-motivation, but there it is.

Also, I have no random encounters and few random magic items. I place everything specifically in the scenario when needed, from a bag of ideas.

I've the feeling you might be tempted to stop me right here and say, "Whoa, those are a big part of D&D to many players!" but I need to stop you and point out, "No, they ain't."

In fact, the idea of random encounter charts and random treasure is bizzare, given the advice preceeding them about game structure in the DMG, and especially given the 3E ideal: that you are supposed to carefully design a scenario with a certain number of encounters at a certain level of difficulty and with specific amounts of treasure for each individual character.

Randomizing the process totally hoses the balance intentionally crafted into the system in the first place! Given that you can't easily have both, I've opted for 3E as designed rather than 3E including the randomization throwback -- a carry-over from previous editions that sits badly out-of-place in the current design.

I'm constructing scenarios differently, but I'm not ignoring or changing any rules of play to do it.

Lately I have found the rules to be more aggravating, since they occasionally get in the way of play. But we try to use the system as designed to our advantage, rather than let it tangle us up. Nonetheless, eventually I think we'll try something else.

Using the system isn't always successful, though. In the Wheel of Time game my group is also participating in (I play there, not GM), we noted during a particularly frustrating combat that the D&D combat rules are very poorly suited to the undertaking of any action that is not about trying to kill your opponent.

I realized later that we could have more easily accomplished our task had we been more aware of the metagame tactics it would have required, and the rules-depth knowledge we did not possess off-hand.

Well, that's way more than my original post, and if you have any questions or comments on any of the above, or anything you would like me to expand upon further, feel free to verbalize.

Hi Raven,

That's everything I needed to know! Thanks.

Here's my take on the rules-thing: I call Drift and am satisfied.

Anyone I have ever queried about the rules-changes in their play of D&D (of any stripe) says, "Oh, we don't change anything." Then they say, "Except this. And this and that," and most importantly, "And here's why." And then they say, "But those aren't really all that important. We don't really change the rules." I smile pleasantly, and then they say, "Or if we do, it's in the spirit of the rules which the game authors obviously got a little confused about," citing contradictory material from the same book.

It might be interesting to contrast your play with that of a group who (a) strictly adheres to alignment as they interpret it, including tattling to the GM when someone strays; (b) doubles damage for various hits, with no buffer zone, to be more "realistic" regarding tissue trauma; and (c) explicitly ignores the "obviously arty" material about carefully-planned encounters and uses what you call the "obvious throwback" as gospel adventure-design, with the magic items as the big payoff material.

I know groups like that. They insist that they don't change "much" either.

Best,
Ron

You know, i've always found it interesting that people will swear by D7D of any variety, whether it is Od&D, 1e or 3e, yet invariably, someone will change a rule somewhere. It could a 'fumble' on a natural 1 and 'double damage' on a 20 to a complete revamp of the rules. (the old fumble/critical dates back to the oldest days of 1e, before such things were written up in the 2e combat section).  I personally ditched alignment 15 years ago as a thing on a character sheet. Smacked of GM control, i.e. "You didn't act on a lawful neutral manner, so I'm going to punish you now."

One thing i've noticed in a lot of your stuff here is worries about the future. Of course, you have to keep certain things in mind (the pregnancy, the princess and her father) and by your own admission, sometimes forget what is going on.

This is most likely why you seem lost. You are thinking too far ahead, imo. Concentrate on what is likely to happen over the next four or five sessions, and take notes. Tie things in as you move along. The relationship map is great, and the whole love triangle thing is awesome! And your sorceror deal, well, that's pure GM evil genius, and I commend you.

Railroading, while not the greatest thing, can sometimes be useful at the right time.

Ron, is this what Illusionism is? Effective, and subtle railroading to further the story/campaign?

Hi Arxhon,

Two things ...

1) Check out the RPG Theory thread about D&D - not the AD&D2 one that you posted to, but the earlier one in which we discussed the Cargo Cult nature of that game between 1974 and ~1980. You'll like what you see, I think; it explains why people are so protective of their own changes to the game and insist that they aren't changing anything.

Raven's situation is a little different, though, and in fact, I think D&D3E is a different animal as well. He and I have private-messaged a bit about it, and Raven, I'll post some of that here if you say it's OK. My argument, basically, is that well-designed Gamist and well-designed Narrativist texts (or more accurately, texts that support those modes of play well) are often extremely compatible with minor rules tweaks, mostly those concerning the reward system of the rules.

2) Check out my Simulationism essay for some links (at the end) concerning our recent discussions of Illusionism. You'll find that it's much more extreme than what you're talking about, which is no more nor less than "GMing." It's not Illusionist merely to play the NPCs and to provide new material and to keep in mind what's going on, or even to change a few things in response to players' actions or plans.

You do, however, mention railroading, and after a few slightly-bloody discussions, some of us were forced to admit that Illusionist play is not necessarily railroading, especially if the players are happy with it. Again, the most recent thread on Illusionism will lay some of this out for you.

Best,
Ron

Ron, yes, feel free to post material from that discussion.

Quote from: arxhonOne thing i've noticed in a lot of your stuff here is worries about the future...This is most likely why you seem lost. You are thinking too far ahead

Hrm. Well slap me around, you're right.
I wouldn't say that's the whole problem, though, but chances are it's a contributing factor. Bad habits die hard, and while I'm not "playing to the future" as I used to, I'm still in the habit of thinking about it and imagining the oh-so-cool events that could take place (if only the characters do such, and such, and such).

When I get into one of those grooves, I usually snap out of it and tell myself that while that would be cool, we'll just have to see what happens, and file it away as a short-story idea rather than game-fodder.

However, it is still lurking there, and I don't wonder if I'm subtly guiding myself to try and force a few of my imagined confrontations/events. It's certainly not regular, but it may be tripping me up enough that a small snag in the short-term results in the "feeling lost" I described above, though I may just be worrying too much!

Assuming I'm not, a case in point comes from last week's game: the leader of the group had been split from the party through various choices made by each of them. My bad was that I was not prepared for the scenario of the leader character turning around...the thought had never crossed my mind in pre-play, though it should have.

I planned for what the scene she would encounter if she continued, and what situations I might need to prep for in that case, but I completely failed to think about the character turning back...and didn't prep for that situation arising. As a result, I was a little harried and lost during the beginning portion of the game, which focused on her character.

We worked it out, but I'm thinking had I been prepared for the possibility -- thus not so focused on the scene I thought would be occuring -- things would have gone more smoothly and been more character relevant. In game, we decided the solution we came to was workable, but I'm waiting for some retrospective dialogue from the group about how they think it turned out: whether it seemed hokey or not.

Despite this minor hitch at start, the session played well, and the character's actions upon her return did present an interesting moral quandary, but I'll write about that later this week or next when the situation comes to a full close.

Hi there,

Forgot I was going to follow up on this ...

Raven private-messaged me during the above conversation, concerned that I was criticizing or picking on what he and his group were doing.

We started with an exchange that clarified that I was supportive of what his group was doing, and kept harping on the Drift because it represented exactly the kind of goals-focus that I think makes for the best role-playing. People sometimes get the idea that I'm about "pure play" based on text/rules alone, but it's actually the opposite - I'm for happy play, with my main concern being (a) good design that aids it and (b) knowledgeable tweaking (rather than reflexive or denial-based) to get there.

Raven also identified several passages in the rules that supported his play goals, acknowledging that they were contradictory to the rules that he had decided to ignore, but challenging my claim that he was Drifting rules.

Here's a couple of posts from the private conversation:

Me:

QuoteI agree with you about the rules. When contradictory instructions are given, then Drift is forced, or rather, if you want to look at it this way, we're talking about some Abashedness, in which the rules simply can't be played in full 'cause either X or Y has to give (Little Fears is like this).

Maybe I'm not communicating that I think your work with D&D is awesome. You're playing a cool game, you tweaked it in exactly the spots X and Y such that the most enjoyable gaming of your experience is occurring. This is a good thing - I use you as a model for coherent, good-Social-Contract, aesthetically-driven play. System Matters, and you use the System to Matter. Awesome. It's not like I "caught" you in some kind of sinful closet activity.

My Gamism essay is going to address a lot of this. Basically, I say that Narrativist and Gamist play are very, very similar, both structurally and socially. What differs is the aesthetic priority and its consequences on the group dynamic. In system terms, that's usually a matter of the reward system - not of resolution, not of stance, not of any of that stuff. But even that's "just" system. The core is social and aesthetic.

So given that D&D3E is far more coherently Gamist than any other printed version of the game, it is also .... wait for it .... more easily Drifted with minimal tweaks to solid Narrativist play.

So that cleared up some confusions, and then we went on to more. I didn't save Raven's response, unfortunately, but I wrote,

QuoteI'm glad you're OK with the D&D issue, because I'm trying to communicate to people, repeatedly, that Narrativist play is neither difficult nor "just story role-playing." One camp is convinced that it's some arcane fucked-up weird little thing that only I can do, and the other camp is convinced that because they railroad like crazy, they're Narrativists ...

Whereas I'm saying, (a) it's easy, and (b) it's not what most people think.

Since this exchange pretty much closed out the conversation to my and Raven's satisfaction, we decided to get it posted up here.

Best,
Ron

Quote from: greyormOne situation I've had crop up is a player is being slow to decide during their screen-time. This is a problem because I've had games stalled by players who couldn't "get into the groove" during their turn, or didn't get in until right at the end of their time -- in either case, it killed the overall feel of tension/interest and pacing during the session.

Here's how I handle it in one of my game designs:

A Player's decision consists of three steps. There's the Player's intent, group input, character intent. The Player initially announces her intentions, or even waffles a bit. Then the group chimes in with suggestions, encouragement and so on. Finally, with the Player having the final say, she announces her Character's actual intent.

Zak, thanks for the input! I don't know that it really solves the problem directly, however, as it is the making of that initial decision that is often the problem.

Couple that with the fact that this is taking place on IRC and you'll note that we don't have body language to go by, nor are silences uncommon while someone is typing: you never know if that silence is due to typing or indecision.

The optimal solution would be for someone to say, "I can't decide" or something similar and then for the group to launch into discussion.

Unfortunately, there's two problems with that: foremost, being human, the player may not think to say that, concentrating on trying to come up with something rather than the fact that they aren't; second, by the time the player realizes they can't decide, it has often already become a problem in terms of dropping tension/engagement level because of the time taken.

I can certainly encourage more other-player input for when this issue arises, however.

This post is a little different than my others, as it is a continuation of the above session in this thread, rather than its own. I'm going to discuss the events of the three sessions that followed it, not so much the game events (though those will be included) but the game play itself in terms of the group, rules and the overall narrative.

I thought I didn't have much to talk about from the first of those three sessions, as it consisted solely of a trek across the desert and a quick battle. It was an enjoyable evening of dice-rolling and play, and I want to stress I was OK with that. But I found after the session, due some mulling everything over through the weekend and a quick write-up of the session, that there were some very interesting elements present.

As you may recall from above, the leader of the group had split from the party, and they in turn had been led into a trap by the fallen genie. My bad was that I was not prepared for the scenario of the leader turning around...the thought had never crossed my mind in pre-play, though it should have.

Consulting the rules, we discovered the leader could easily catch up to the other characters by force marching herself into deep fatigue, even with the delay of a few hours requring tracking rolls. I believe I messed up here, as I am not intimately familiar with the tracking rules...first time they have ever been used.

While it nearly made it so that she couldn't find them, she did; and while I could have simply said she could not find or follow the trail, or set a higher DC than I did, I felt as though it would be percieved as forcing a non-choice -- which would have been both unfair and deprotagonizing (rather the same thing in this game).

Also, the character's decision to leave the party was not made by its player, as she was sick that night and had left early; however, she stated the character had done and behaved almost exactly as she would have done, and the leaving was intended.

Regardless, both I as a DM and she as a player knew the character could not catch up to the others, because the group had already been described as arriving at their location without her.

We discussed this "problem" as a group, and instead of having us rewrite events, she was fine with some deus ex machina by me: I stopped her with an NPC they had recently met -- the same one who is desperately in love with her -- who warned her that the Eld Sister planned to betray them all, and they should hide and strike when she was not looking.

Meanwhile, the other group was trapped in a cavern, and given the following choice: each must make a wish, or all would perish.

Combat quickly resulted, but I don't think the weight of that decision dawned on them. They have been rather cocky about participating in combat lately, and this time were behaving that way likely because the djinni was mostly ineffective, due to his blindness. However, the danger of combat wasn't the really weighty part of the decision.

The leader had followed silently behind the others and arrived as the battle was joined, just in time to hear the Eld Sister curse the group for its actions and reveal the reason she had betrayed them to the djinni: it would fulfill her wish, the restoration to life of her slain sister (who had also been slain by it), if she would help it gain wishes from the elf and dwarf.

The leader struck the Eld Sister after her proclamation, then proceeded to slay her while the others continued after the blind djinn, so that she could never betray anyone again.

The effect of all this is obviously that it damned the chances of the Eld Sister to gain her wish and return her sister to life. I think the tension of the situation and their own cockiness might have resulted in their lack of framing the revelation in context...which is cool, to me, since it created a scene of human failure and hindsight.

After all, had the characters gone along with it, they would have been fine, since the Eld Sister hadn't betrayed them to injury or death, only helped corner them into making wishes. Of course, those wishes would give the djinni more power, but that wasn't her motive, either. She choose what she felt was the lesser of two evils: her sister's unfair death or the betrayal of the party (who she feels is responsible for the former event).

As such, it was directly applicable to the game's Premise of family and responsibility.
Consider: the djinni was freed by the characters, and it was blinded by them. It slew the Eld One's sister to use her ressurection as a bargaining chip in restoring its sight. Now, I don't believe the group is responsible for the actions of the djinn, it is responsible for its own actions (and they all agree with that). Yet I at least think there is some degree of responsibility for the situation lying with the group; however, what that degree actually is is up to each player to decide for their character; and what they do because of that decision will be very interesting.

What I think is even more notable is the paralell between the situation of the Eld Sister and the situation of the group's leader: at some point, the leader is going to have to decide what she will do to save her family, and who or what she will harm to do it.

The players were having an easy time of it against him but the session needed to come to an end. So, to wrap things up on their usual "resolution/win or cliffhanger" note, I had the choice of either having the djinni flee using a number of magical abilities or have him continue to fight.

The session ended when the djinni blinded them all with thick smoke, effectively reducing them to the same visual state he was in.

Things were about to get alot more dangerous for them, since they could no longer see the wall of fire blazing down the center of the room, and those on the "cool side" of the wall would not be able to feel its heat until they stumbled into it. I anticipated more tension when they realized this, as well as the combat evening out a little.

But first, after this session ended I had some clean-up rolls to do; I discovered that the Eld Sister was actually still alive (though only barely).

At the time, my thoughts were that it would be pivotal to the game if it was discovered, as one of them would have to actually check her to discover this. Given if that occurred, the question was obvious, and poignant in the light of their above actions: What do they do with her, knowing she is still alive? But I also put it out of my mind as only a possibility, chances were they would simply leave the body there, presuming her to be as dead as she appeared.

I e-mailed the group between sessions and noted the moral situation for them; I did so nonjudgementally of the acton itself. It was simply a footnote for the game and a consideration in further play...just to get them thinking about the event.

I also asked the group about the fudging we'd done during the session, as I wanted to make certain everyone was comfortable with it, and that it worked smoothly and well for them (particularly for the player of the the character most affected by it). Everyone was.

The session following consisted of the continuation of the battle, with the heroes much worse off.

There was a great deal of rolling of both Direction Sense checks and Saving Throws...the latter serving as their first hint that stumbling around in the smoke was dangerous for them. I quickly mentioned the reason for the Saving Throw in the description of the action thereafter, so that they were not kept wondering ("physical danger" tension is always better when you know the actual stakes): those who had moved had avoided stumbling into the flames amid the blinding smoke.

A few spells were cast and blows traded, but battle was quickly abandoned by the group, since they could not tell who they were striking against, and could not see to strike through the smoke-thickened air and their own tearing, burning eyes.

The dwarf also braved all this, while blinded, to retrieve two items of magic he had detected earlier amid the stores in the room. He managed to find both items AND make his way out unscathed.

By the end of the game, though everyone else eventually managed to slip past it and escape into the exit tunnel, the elf was lost within the smoke and nearly dead at this point from the ravage of the djinni's hurled flames.

So in the end, with the pressure on, the leader of the group tricked the djinn into engaging in personal combat with her, for stakes other than death, saving the elf and hopefully the city.

If the djinn won, it would get its wishes from the party and leave.
If it lost, it would call off the undead army it had marching against their city...for one month.

They tried to assert that it would leave the city alone for good, but as they had learned earlier, it could not conflict with the fulfillment of a wish it had granted. So they knew that was the best deal they were going to get from it...and if they didn't take it, they would get nothing, the elf would probably end up dead, and a whole city of innocents would be slaughtered unawares.

The player was very careful to set up the situation so that the djinni couldn't trick her, phrasing her demands very carefully. She made certain it could not use its magic against her, and would use a blade they knew was not enchanted (the elf's); it in return required that its eyesight be restored so that the fight would be fair.

The game ended with these plans teetering on the brink of ruin...for the dwarf revealed to the leader that he could not dispell the enchantment he had placed upon the djinn...

The third session was the most tense and wild of the three. This was the session that decided whether the duel went on as planned, and what the outcome of that duel was. It also ended up as the first to deal with another issue: the Eld Sister.

Much of the game consisted of bargaining and argument: the first of these was between the dwarf and the leader as to what they were going to do about the problem of the djinni's blindness, with the djinni growing impatient in the background. The only thing to do was to make a wish to restore the djinn's sight...and the dwarf was unwilling to do it!

Finally, after negotiating and trying to figure some way to use the situation to their advantage, the dwarf caved in and wished the djinni's sight back...but for the length of the day only!

Though nonplussed by this limitation, the djinni took it...it was a wish, after all, and he was getting it without even having to fight. Boku bonus for him.

The second argument arose when the elf learned of what was happening (the player had decided the elf had not heard the challenge or deal-making, having been lost in a pain-filled haze from his burns)...he was torn about the situation, as he did not want the leader (his secret love) going into a possibly deadly duel against the djinn, so he made a wish as well! To keep her safe, that she would come out of the duel uninjured.

The implications here: he was willing to give the djinni what it wanted for love, though he knew it would gain power from this, and that half of their gain in the duel (not having to make wishes) would be lost. Once made, the wish made the duel about two things: the leader's wish, and the short-term fate of the city and its people.

But having grown up in a city that treated its women as property, the leader took his attitude as typical male sexism...she assumed the elf assumed she was incapable of duelling the djinn because she was a woman. This is perhaps the most electric interplay yet that has occurred in regards to the one-sided romance between the two characters.

The duel began, and the aspects of gaming with other, real people were felt around the table: the djinni used its powers to become invisible and attack the leader from behind and unawares. The leader cried foul, the djinni laughed and reminded her of the exact wording of their agreement.

The result of this was that the player left the table upset at the situation. She herself had missed something in the agreement, a turn of phrase I'd planted which allowed the djinni to use its powers if they did not directly harm her.

I had suspected that when I used this, it might be taken poorly, so I also immedaiately made note of two items after I had done this: that while it might look like a "screw-the-player" ploy by the GM, I was not intending it to be; and that I wanted her input on the fairness of my ruling on the issue, that it was open to being changed.

The player informed me after the game that she knew she had overreacted, but couldn't help being upset. She had had a frustrating and nerve-wracking day at work, and (as I knew) she is also pregnant...so outside influences, beyond those of the game itself, came into play.

Let me note that the game would have stopped right there until next week had things not been resolved, that was way too important an issue for the group -- not the situation in-game, but the one out-of-game -- to gloss over and continue playing without dealing with. But the player came back to the table and got herself back together to continue.

I admire my player's wherewithal and final decision; she did not sit and steam for the remainder of the game, turtle-up, or silently disrupt the game with half-play. In fact, she played well afterwards and contributed as usual to the game. Her character's first statement at the player's return was, "I am even more determined to win now," and I think something of the player's own attitude came through in that.

Play had continued, with the choice being to continue the duel, or to cry forefit and suffer consequences known and unknown. The leader waved the elf down, who had nocked an arrow was preparing to fire...with much effort, he obeyed, and the leader made the above statement and continued to fight. Awesome. They gave a little in an unfair situation to ensure the greater good.

She whooped ass, and ended up turning the situation around on me(!) which I thought was great! The the priestess' player first realized that the djinn had been too cocky to deny the leader use of any magic powers or enchantments when the deal had been struck, and so lined up a few spells to cast. The first thing she did was heal the leader, and that ended up being the opening the leader's player needed.

This made the djinni very cross and it declared a foul when the priestess interfered, striking the priestess with its fist as one of its attacks. It was reminded that nothing in the deal restricted the leader's use of magic, but the leader called foul for attacking one of her companions during the one-to-one duel, and the djinni (being an evil bastard but nonetheless bound by its word) threw down its sword in angry defeat and gave the month's reprieve as per the bargain.

So, the dwarf and elf each make a wish and the djinni gets what he wants, but the characters also get what they want.

No cliffhanger this time, they ended on a resolution: a win.

During all this, however, I was also dealing with the start of a situation for the next session: while the others were busy with the djinni, the priestess healed the elf, and then checked on the Eld Sister...to discover she was still alive, though almost dead.

The priestess said nothing to the others about her discovery, but went immediately to work, binding wounds and stabilizing the woman. This course of action was surprising to me, since the character in question is usually selfish and unconcerned.

Once the rest of the party is informed of the Eld Sister's condition, a new question will come up: what does the party do with her or for her? Since the Eld Sister is guaranteed to survive now, she could easily become a long-term enemy to the group at this point...and who would blame her? I'm interested to see how this is resolved and what happens with this in the next session.

The situation with the group's priestess: her family is in part or in whole responsible for the state of affairs of the leader's family (and the exile of two of the characters), and the group might have to go through them to rescue the city and the leader's family. What is she going to choose to do when that time comes? We can guess she'll leave them high-and-dry as per her personality, but on the other hand, that's not a given considering the action she took in regards to the Eld Sister -- who was not blood-related and was only one of the character's mentors (and a traitor to her even at that).