Hi Everyone,

I'm not really sure why I am posting this, I guess I am in a reminiscing mood; yet at the end there is an event I'd like to share that still resonates with me today even after the passage of several years.

This particular episode took place 4 years ago real time. I went hunting through my character folder to find what notes I could on this character and this particular scenario but they were scant to the point of merely listing the Players and their Characters plus I found another preprinted adjunct sheet to the player sheet called “Experience Record” with a bit more indicated.

That play session was just this side of the bell curve of small for us with six player characters including myself plus the GM. Included were two NPC's, one a PC who was not available and NPC'd for the night and the other a complete GM creation. On the quick the campaign was set in Tolkien's Middle Earth about 25 years before the War of the Ring. The system is home brew sharing a superficial  physical resemblance to TSR's but functioning in an almost completely opposite manner – attributes and skills but employed in a manner that is nearly completely opposite to the way “AD&D Edition” x works.

My Character that night was a Dunedain of the North by the mannish name Bannon.  His High Quenya names were Coiraumo (Living Storm) and Surion (King of the Wind). This tidbit has some minor bearing in this post as it illuminates to some degree the nature of my relationship to another PC playing that night, my brother Raven. His High names were Belirauma (Mighty Storm) and Borthalion (Strong Hand). Several years even prior the game I am posting about, the GM first introduced our characters as “Sons of the Storm” where our entrance into the world (the SIS) was framed by us both walking into the scene emerging from a howling snow storm. Actually prior to that the GM played out the set up of our characters as my brother having gone out and disappearing and my character spending 70 years searching high and low through all of middle earth looking for him. As for my brother the GM described his 70 years in a pit via witnessing a young girl grow flower into woman hood, mature, age and die all while he was incarcerated. In this process the woman was so smitten with Raven that she never married much to the chagrin of her father, who perished and his son inherited his father's keep as well as Raven, my brother. In this hour or so long introduction such thematic tropes as the indomitable Dunedain will (Bannon spent 70 years ceaselessly searching for his brother Raven and Raven never despaired of being found) and their powerful charisma (Raven made no play what so ever for the girl but she was so taken in by his Dunedain Charisma though they never spoke she could marry no other and eventually died a spinster) were demonstrated. When I did find my brother, I asked the Lord or now his heir son to release my brother to which he threatened to kill him if I did not leave. Numerically I could not fight to rescue but I proclaimed such a doom upon the lord that by morning he had died. (Note there was no “skill” on my sheet about being able to do anything like this other a generalized “understanding” that the Dunedain have immense “will.” Think Aragorn breaking Sauron's hold over the Palantir or Aragorn “breaking” The Mouth of Sauron just by holding his gaze.) So when our characters were introduced into play the catastrophe of Tharbad had already taken place where better than 95% of all the Dunedain in the world were killed – including our family. So at this point the bond between Raven and myself has been viscerally cemented in my mind.

Finally I should note that having a Dunedain in our game is a sign that you really get the material, the world and what the Dunedain are. It usually takes years of play to get one and they are THE pinnacle character. They ARE a very difficult character to play, and it should also be noted that you only get one. Period. If he dies there is NO Chance of getting another. Ever. (There are no resurrection spells or the like in the world.) They are very capable characters, they are tied directly into the highest level of events in the world, on a “Social Contract Level” they are a sign of the highest level of acceptance into the group as they are awarded to players who are considered truly great role-players. So beloved are these characters that in scenarios where they are in extreme danger players will find reasons to have their characters' put them selves into harm's way if necessary for another player's Dunedain.

OK, lot's of probably tedious back story and set up for a small moment, but in order for the following to make any sense it is necessary to understand the above.

So the background of the scenario is that Harrandor is in a state of utter chaos following the failed Black Commando attempt to decapitate and sieze Gondor and the subsequent war with the invading Harradrim armies. The Harradrim were badly beaten (this was resolved in a very abbreviated matter by having three players roll a set of percentile dice each – all of which were above 95%! - this was done because we were at the dog end of 6 loooong days of play in a row and we were all too worn out to play it out.) However this battle was waged in Harrandor lands and there was much destruction and woe inflicted on the locals as is always the case in war. The upshot was that there was no established power remaining and there was great anger felt by the locals towards both the Harradrim and Gondor.

Aragorn had tasked small groups of Dunedain with small Ranger of Ithillian contingents to try and pacify Harrandor, bring stability and hopefully mend some of the psychological wounds Gondor had inflicted and try and win the hearts and minds of the locals. Tall order as there were so few of us and the immensity of area we were each responsible for was so large – not to mention the carnage that had be wrought on these poor people. Each Dunedain had two Rangers and that night there were nine of us in total – 3 Dunedain and 6 Rangers when we stumbled across a town of several hundred adult men plus adolescent boy, women and children that was about to engage in armed rebellion against Gondor.

I forget all the extenuating circumstances but as usual time was not on our side, we arrived at early evening and determined that the men and older boys were going to ride off the following morning. We decided out of hand that we were not looking to “kill” the people in order to prevent the insurrection (as far as the Dunedain were concerned they were Gondorian citizens), but we rather looked to try to decapitate their efforts by driving off all the horses if possible and thus rendering them immobile. We made quick plans, waited until about midnight and set about our various tasks. Well, as is want to happen in situations where everything needs to happen properly bad die rolls made their appearance at particularly pivotal times and my brother was captured. The town was roused, they knew they had been attacked as a large number of the horses had been scattered, a few of their had been knocked out and thus they were hungry for blood.

The town had been roused and collected around my prisoner brother and were threatening to kill him. There was NO way direct violent action was going to save his life as the town leader had my brother on his knees, hands and feet tied with the local firebrand standing over him with a short sword held over my brother's head working himself up to commit coldblooded murder. Events were unraveling fast in real time, literally on the order of minutes. Though we had Rangers of Ithillian who are excellent bowmen there conditions were ALL wrong to try and snipe out the ring leader and make a rush to save Raven.

As a player I had no idea what to do, but I knew I had to do something and that Dunedain are “fate benders.” Armed only with this idea I broke free of my men and rode alone into the midst of the angry mob. Needless to say the other players were not pleased by this and Chuck especially was dismayed. I however was playing on that the Dunedain were all Kings so I was going to play on that somehow. So I walked, not galloped, my horse into the town stood high in my stirrups, pulled my bastard sword out leveling it at the man holding my brother, telling the GM that I unveil myself completely throwing my Presence (Charisma) out before me (mine a 22 in a world where the manish maximum is 18) and start proclaiming a doom upon this man his descendants and all in the town who directly or passively brought harm or let harm come upon my brother, also a King by rights, in the high tongue of Quenya. The GM reminded me that the locals would not understand Quenya, but I responded that while they may not “understand” the language itself Quenya was a tongue of tremendous power (remember the hobbits in Rivendale not understanding the songs but being able to “feel” and “see” what was being sung) and I wanted the people to “feel” in their souls if not their minds the deadly earnestness with which I was declaring my intentions and their fates.

As a player I was crapping in my pants, my hands were literally trembling because if events went sideways there was no way no matter how accomplished I was as a warrior (level) that I could hope to survive several hundred people attacking me – and I had my brother to worry about as well. I had walked right into the lion's den. I then bent my gaze upon the firebrand who held the sword over my brother's neck and told him to release my brother. My sword was leveled at him, shoulder high, from atop my horse, but there was no way I could do anything physical to save my brother's life if the man decided to plunge his sword into my brothers neck. Meanwhile I am surrounded on all sides in a sea of angry, unpredictable and dangerous people. In the back of my own mind I am making what preparations I can emotionally for the possibility of the loss of this most beloved character. Not only would I have lost this character, but the world as a whole would have lost an irreplaceable bulwark against Sauron and his minions. Recall Aragorn's speech to Boromir in Rivendale about the endless and thankless struggles of the Dunedain or that on the march to Gates of Mordor at the end of the books that Gandalf said that among the army there were “men” who were worth a thousand armed knights.  When you have a Dunedain you have a “responsibility” to the world. To lose one's Dunedain is to fail in that responsibility.

But Hell if I am going to let my brother, whom I had searched the world 70 long years, die without trying to rescuing him even if it meant my life for his.  As a player I was literally trembling with nervous adrenaline and a pounding heart.

Looking down my pointed sword I demand that the firebrand release my brother as he is holding the sword high ready to plunge it down into Raven's neck in a horrifying blink of an eye. Again I must make clear that if the firebrand had so chosen to do so there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop him, I was too far away. The man starts to argue back and two thoughts occur to me in a flash. First I cannot let him get the upper hand dynamically in the situation – I have to dominate him completely. Second I was irked that the GM wasn't responding to all these Charisma efforts of mine that are gift and birthrights of the Dunedain when I as a player am struck out of the blue – I will remind the NPC who he is dealing with and I say in as a commanding voice as I a player could summon, “Kneel, before a King.”

The room went quiet but there was definitely an electricity in the air. I had done something that no one else had ever done playing a Dunedain in 20+ years that the game had been played. I could even see the sparkle in the eye's of the GM when I said this – he was impressed. He had me roll a d20 and banged a natural 20 and the table explodes into shouts and whoops and hollers. The man struggled for a moment, thrust his sword into the ground in frustration and collapsed to his knees, as did a surprising number of the mob. Whew! He was broken and his hold over the mob was destroyed. I bid my brother to rise and we leave the town together. I do not offer a hand to raise him no do I offer him a spot on my horse for I felt it was still important to show that my brother had NOT been broken. (Of course once out of sight I gave him my horse and I walked.)

As my brother and I were making were waking our way through the crowd about thirty scattered men shouted “For Gondor!” I responded with something like, “Know that Gondor is not your enemy. Go – and make of yourselves good men.”

What was soooooooo cool was that not only did I get my brother out, I was alive, but that I had successfully accomplished our original goal of restoring order but trying to win over the people back to Gondor...and the best part was that this was accomplished without killing anyone! Because in a way these people are “future subjects,” my people as it were. One does not wage war against one's own people. It was immensely satisfying especially to have accomplished all that, but there's an important coda to this...

...some weeks (months?) later I was talking about this scenario to the GM and he told me that he had never seen a Dunedain more perfectly played in all his years of Gming Middle Earth. He told me that the die roll was for show, to add drama to the moment as my actions were so perfect that in his mind no die roll was needed to determine success. Did this revelation bother me? NOPE! Not in the least! He just told me that my play was so good that it transcended the need for a die role. It was spice only to make the moment even more delicious, but that the success was a solely and direct result of my role-play. That made me feel even more excited about that night's play. The best he'd seen in 20+ years of play. Wow!

I guess the point of all this was the above paragraph - the idea of play transcending the need for (or the outcome) of a mechanical resolution check. I don't know if any of this comment worthy but there you go. I hope I haven't wasted everyone's time.

Jay

It sounds like you had a really great experience, Jay! It was a pleasure to read it.

I was looking at this:

I guess the point of all this was the above paragraph - the idea of play transcending the need for (or the outcome) of a mechanical resolution check

Silmenume wrote:
The man starts to argue back and two thoughts occur to me in a flash. First I cannot let him get the upper hand dynamically in the situation – I have to dominate him completely. Second I was irked that the GM wasn't responding to all these Charisma efforts of mine that are gift and birthrights of the Dunedain when I as a player am struck out of the blue – I will remind the NPC who he is dealing with and I say in as a commanding voice as I a player could summon, “Kneel, before a King.”

The room went quiet but there was definitely an electricity in the air. I had done something that no one else had ever done playing a Dunedain in 20+ years that the game had been played. I could even see the sparkle in the eye's of the GM when I said this – he was impressed.

Silmenume wrote:
He had me roll a d20 and banged a natural 20 and the table explodes into shouts and whoops and hollers.

The problem with advocating that trust is that it blocks out other kinds of play (like both parties using written, transparent rules as the criteria for affecting fiction). If they trust in one game, what are they going to do in the next session with a game that's designed around transparent criteria rules? Not trust each other on the criteria (and instead defer to the rules)? No, once you've set up a trust process, it doesn't stop in a hurry - it's pretty much embeded in the social framework. And that blocks out other ways of playing.

Well said, Callan.
David, I too find Jay's post exciting, but as a rule I just don't trust GMs to honor my input unless I have mechanical backing for what I want to happen. To me, a die roll is not just emotionally relevant - it states, unmistakably, "My ideas matter just as much as anyone's. Back me up, dice!"

Besides that, it's disingenuous for a GM to try and corner the players - if you come up with a sweet way out of (or through) a dilemma, especially if it's emotionally satisfying, there should be a way for you to present your solution and make it stick. Any sort of "you'll get out of here if I SAY you do!" stuff, which some GMs pull all the time, is bad-faith play, as far as I'm concerned.

So, Jay had this moment where he wanted to accomplish something with his character: intimidate and command the respect and obediance of an irate mob.  Will he succeed or won't he?  There are tons of ways Jay could have resolved this in different games.  To name a few: rolling dice, drawing cards, spending points, asking GM's permission, simply declaring success or failure, voting, doing whatever he felt his character would do and letting someone else resolve it.  Each of these provides a different experience.  A player's mind might focus on the luck of the dice, the choice of whether to spend a needed resource, the evaluations of other players, etc.

I've played with a lot of these.  While I tend to like some better than others in general, overall I'd say that sometimes I'm in the mood for the experience delivered by one method, and other times another one.

There's a unique experience to what Jay describes.  You get in your character's headspace, you assess your (his) situation and options, you do the best you (he) can, and you see how the setting and its people respond, as relayed to you by the GM.  Looking at that "GM as setting arbiter" and waiting for his feedback is different than looking at dice or voting on how cool your play was or any other method.  Maybe it's hard to get right, maybe it's lined with potential pitfalls, maybe few will wind it worth the bother when there are other options.  But it can be made to work, and when it does work, the resulting experience is something a lot of roleplayers I know really love.

Playing one game or session this way certainly wouldn't preclude you from playing another game or session using a different resolution method.  I can switch between Primetime Adventures, Sign in Stranger, and old-school GM-heavy D&D2 just fine, thank you.

Separately, I also think that most games benefit from a mixture of rules and trust.  There will always be judgment calls, even if they're only about when to use a given a rule.  When judgment calls come up, it's important to be able to trust your fellow players' basis for judgment.

Ps,
-David

P.S. Jay, if you're still around, I think it would be instructive if you could speculate on how else your Dunedain's speech might have been resolved; and, given the way that it was resolved, what parts of the experience could have been improved, or were optimal just the way they were handled.

The thing is, pushing trust basically wrecks personal evaluation of quality. Was it fun, quality play? To even form that question in mind is to distrust the assertion by others that it was fun. Pesonally I think it's healthy skepticism, but it's still distrust even with my stamp of approval. The more you work with trust the more it kills critical evaluation. Critical evaluation requires, as far as I know, atleast some level of misstrust/treating others assertions as possibly just a bunch of hype.

There will always be judgment calls, even if they're only about when to use a given a rule.

Hi Zac,

You have the right of it when you said that the die roll gave the moment some punch.  Actually it probably gave the moment allot of punch.  Which falls in line with my thread title – The Spicy Die Roll.  The point of the die roll at that moment was not employed by the GM as a resolution mechanic (be it task or conflict) but rather as a dramatic device/tool.

David,

Your description of the use of the die roll, when you as GM have already decided on success, as means as assessing the degree of success matches our use exactly.

David wrote: This rings very familiar to me.  It's this play style that has been the source of most of my most rewarding roleplaying experiences.  I basically see the core of the experience as a "what should happen" negotiation between all involved players (that is, the GM plus whichever players are acting via their characters).  It's always satisfying when there's a meeting of the minds about the next step in the fiction -- what makes sense, what would be cool, what would work, etc.

David wrote: There's that moment of tension where the player goes, "Does the GM agree that this is at least plausible?" and then, "Does the GM think that this would succeed?"  In a game where no one's on the same page, a "no" is usually merely frustrating, but in a group with well-shared priorities, the GM's answer arrives as The Truth.  "No, these townsfolk are too incensed to listen," or, "That speech would totally make them pause and take your words seriously."  Or, "Could go either way; roll some dice!"

Callan wrote:
The thing is, pushing trust basically wrecks personal evaluation of quality. Was it fun, quality play? To even form that question in mind is to distrust the assertion by others that it was fun. Pesonally I think it's healthy skepticism, but it's still distrust even with my stamp of approval. The more you work with trust the more it kills critical evaluation. Critical evaluation requires, as far as I know, atleast some level of misstrust/treating others assertions as possibly just a bunch of hype.

David wrote: P.S. Jay, if you're still around, I think it would be instructive if you could speculate on how else your Dunedain's speech might have been resolved; and, given the way that it was resolved, what parts of the experience could have been improved, or were optimal just the way they were handled.

Hi Jay,

Drama is recognized as a legitimate form of resolution.

Thus the blanket assertion that a trust based system, which Drama resolution relies on heaviest of all, wrecks “personal evaluation of quality” is to utterly dismiss Drama resolution as a legitimate means of play.

Given the Lumpley principle; all play at heart is Drama resolution in that we all must ultimately agree to the statements being made during play.

Also why does one need to “evaluate” quality....I don't have to go through some measuring process to arrive at the emotional state of “fun.”

But then I am lost by the usage of the word “quality.”  Can you clarify what you mean by “quality” and to what thing you are measuring the quality?  For me that night's quality of play was awesome.  I was told by my GM that my quality of play was one for the books – it was superlative.

Jay,

We've clearly had some similar gaming experiences.  Almost everything you're saying, I'm nodding and going, "Yeah!  It is like that!"

Silmenume wrote:
It IS satisfying when there's a general meeting of the minds but we don't want to know a forehand what is going to happen.  That means there will, at times, be failure when “what should happen” doesn't.

Silmenume wrote:
I'm going to say the GM's answer is a Fact.  The nice thing about a Fact is that facts can change with further input/negotiations and yet not be in contradiction if the Facts do change.  This is key.  Let's say the GM says, "No, these townsfolk are too incensed to listen.”  That fact is not immutable.  As a player I can do or say other things that might alter that Fact.

Silmenume wrote:
At the end of that night's play we will have established/negotiated a whole multitude of SIS Facts which can then be chewed on long after the end of the game session where the players deduce and infer a great number of additional (proto?) facts.

Silmenume wrote:

David wrote: P.S. Jay, if you're still around, I think it would be instructive if you could speculate on how else your Dunedain's speech might have been resolved; and, given the way that it was resolved, what parts of the experience could have been improved, or were optimal just the way they were handled.

David, could you expand on your question, please?  I'm not sure what you are looking for from me.  To me the experience was optimal, but I am curious as to what it is that you are trying to uncover.

Silmenume wrote:
I was irked that the GM wasn't responding to all these Charisma efforts of mine that are gift and birthrights of the Dunedain

Hi Dave,

I'm fairly certain we are on the same page with the “should” thing and the “Fact” thing.  I did follow your link.

David wrote: I was trying to uncover some breakdown of the moments of play by type of resolution*.  Like, "I decided this, the GM decided that, we agreed here, rolled dice there, looked up attribute ratings then" etcetera.  I thought maybe we could figure out something interesting about how these techniques all work together.  That now seems both vague and ambitious, though.

David wrote:

Silmenume wrote:
At the end of that night's play we will have established/negotiated a whole multitude of SIS Facts which can then be chewed on long after the end of the game session where the players deduce and infer a great number of additional (proto?) facts.

Huh.  I hadn't thought about that.  Are you talking about group rehash, or just individual recollections?

As the sky weeps for Maglor a great weight comes off my shoulders. If the sky doth weep for Maglor then "The Lady of Sorrow" hath moved the heart of Manwe. In his death Maglor is forgiven by the King of Valinor. Ambar meta I shall see Maglor again, when we gather at the feet of THE ONE.

David wrote: I also think there's something to be said for a "show, don't tell" dynamic at play, where no stats or rolls are going to win the day without some action narration of convincing quality.

David wrote: More concretely, you said one thing that have me some "non-optimal?" thoughts:

Silmenume wrote:
I was irked that the GM wasn't responding to all these Charisma efforts of mine that are gift and birthrights of the Dunedain

As someone who wasn't there, I didn't know whether this was a case of:

"The GM's cheating!" or "The GM's ignoring my contribution, so I'm not empowered to play!"

or

"Wow, I thought that woud have impressed most incensed villagers.  I guess these ones have some reason they're particularly pissed off." (or some other sound in-fiction logic)

Based on the rest of your account, I can guess that the latter was more the case, largely because of your group's shared priorities about stuff like sound in-fiction logic being really important.  What do you think?

Hi Jay,

I'm still mulling where to go with this... there are fun options aplenty, but I'm trying to see if I can focus in on a design issue here.  Basically, I want to be able to tell other play groups how to find success of the type that your group and mine have enjoyed.  The cartoons are an ongoing attempt at that.  What are the keys, and how can they be communicated from text to players and then players to players?

So, before I continue in that direction, I just want to ask if that's cool with you.

Meanwhile, a few questions:

Do setting facts get firmly established during your postgame debriefs, or simply proposed as possible interpretations?  I mean, if Maglor's dead and we're never going to see him again, one player suggesting that he's been allowed into heaven is kind of a special case.  The GM can just go, "Might be true, might be false, who knows?" and it doesn't matter because it's still a cool way to look at things.  It's more or less a player saying "An NPC can be perceived as doing this!"  That's very different than the player saying, "An NPC does this!" and the GM agreeing either explicitly or implicitly (by not speaking up to the contrary).  So, just for context, I'm curious about which you guys do.

As for the GM stringing you along for emotional impact: this is one of those tricky judgment calls, where the GM's role as impartial arbiter is so open that he has to fill in the gaps with something, and that's often borrowed from other fiction.  In this case, the indeterminate nature of "how a whole bunch of angry peasants respond to a commanding guy of noble blood" allows ample leeway for pacing and tension of the suspense/action movie/novel variety.  How necessary is it that the GM do this?  How much of a tall order is it?  I have some general thoughts on the matter, but I'm wondering if you have any thoughts based on this particular game.

Ps,
-David

Hi David,

I apologize for the delay...

David wrote: Do setting facts get firmly established during your postgame debriefs, or simply proposed as possible interpretations?  I mean, if Maglor's dead and we're never going to see him again, one player suggesting that he's been allowed into heaven is kind of a special case.  The GM can just go, "Might be true, might be false, who knows?" and it doesn't matter because it's still a cool way to look at things.  It's more or less a player saying "An NPC can be perceived as doing this!"  That's very different than the player saying, "An NPC does this!" and the GM agreeing either explicitly or implicitly (by not speaking up to the contrary).  So, just for context, I'm curious about which you guys do.

David wrote: As for the GM stringing you along for emotional impact: this is one of those tricky judgment calls, where the GM's role as impartial arbiter is so open that he has to fill in the gaps with something, and that's often borrowed from other fiction.  In this case, the indeterminate nature of "how a whole bunch of angry peasants respond to a commanding guy of noble blood" allows ample leeway for pacing and tension of the suspense/action movie/novel variety.  How necessary is it that the GM do this?  How much of a tall order is it?  I have some general thoughts on the matter, but I'm wondering if you have any thoughts based on this particular game.

Hi Jay,

I'll assume from your response that you're happy to ponder design implications with me.

I think you understood my questions perfectly, and your responses give me a lot to work with.

Silmenume wrote:
When the discussion starts closing in on specifics of a given scenario or character the GM will say something along the lines, “If we continue down this line this will count [in the game world].”

Silmenume wrote:
I should mention that we probably spend more time talking about the game than actually playing it.  This is not meant to say that we don't play often or enough, but rather that soooooo much goes on during a game that sorting out what happened and more importantly what it means can go on endlessly.  Mixed in with this is discussions about the source material

Silmenume wrote:

David wrote: As for the GM stringing you along for emotional impact: this is one of those tricky judgment calls, where the GM's role as impartial arbiter is so open that he has to fill in the gaps with something, and that's often borrowed from other fiction.  In this case, the indeterminate nature of "how a whole bunch of angry peasants respond to a commanding guy of noble blood" allows ample leeway for pacing and tension of the suspense/action movie/novel variety.  How necessary is it that the GM do this?  How much of a tall order is it?  I have some general thoughts on the matter, but I'm wondering if you have any thoughts based on this particular game.

. . . Is it “necessary” for the GM to make the game play experience interesting?  Absolutely!

Silmenume wrote:
The art of it, as it were, is being able to balance so many needs at once without stopping play.  How much of a tall order is it? A very tall order.  It takes great skill to manage such a thing successfully and not all efforts are as successful as others.

Silmenume wrote:
There appears to me, and I may be wrong so please let me know if I am indeed off the mark here, a presumption that the GM is an “impartial arbiter.”  Why?

Hi Dave,

I'm sorry that I did not directly respond to your question about pondering design implication, but you have deduced correctly.  I am open to discussing such things.  That being said we must bear in mind that the role of mechanics in Sim has not yet been teased out.  Acknowledging this will help us from falling into the trap of treating resolution mechanics in Sim as Task Resolution mechanics – which they are most certainly NOT!  I wish I could offer more direction as to their ultimate role, yet perhaps we may make some progress as we work through some thoughts.

David wrote: During play itself, attention is kept largely on the immediate action.  Sights, sounds, actions, etc.  There are few pauses for explanation of the people, places, events and stories that are glimpsed only partially.  When play finally ends, the players do what fans of any mysterious TV series do: they question, theorize, interpret and predict.  "Why did that happen?  Did it mean X?  I bet Y is up to Z!  Maybe when we go to A, we'll discover B!"

David wrote: So, again, a rulebook might be wise to work this in somehow.  Or would it?  How much can or should designers try to prompt formerly emergent behaviors?  I can see two approaches:

1) Provide play rules that foster character POV.  Present an inspiring Setting (maps, histories, fiction, web links, etc.).  Provide a campaign-friendly play structure.  Then, mention somewhere that talking about the game tends to add to the fun -- but don't fight for attention with this, leave it in the class of lower-priority game instruction.  (There's only so many procedures and rules gamers will learn and remember, right?)

2) List in a prominent place in the instructions of how to play that "pre-game talk" and "post-game talk" are essential parts of the process.  Make that impossible to ignore.  Flesh it out with details on how to get the most out of such talks.

I really have no idea which would be more effective for what game.  Help!

You make many thought-provoking points, and I think reflecting upon them will help me make the intentions of my own game clear, especially in regards to encouraging a coherent worldview between GM and players.

Hi Jay,

For now I'm making no assumptions about what the rules in this sort of game ought to manage, and about what a text ought to cover.  Social stuff, conflict resolution, task resolution, drama, fortune, karma, guidelines, suggestions, inspiration, story structure, activity structure, turns, play modes, taking breaks, mood music... it's all on the table, as far as I'm concerned.  (I'm sure I could whittle that list down somewhat, but I'd rather wait on that task.)

Silmenume wrote:

David wrote: During play itself, attention is kept largely on the immediate action.  Sights, sounds, actions, etc.  There are few pauses for explanation of the people, places, events and stories that are glimpsed only partially.  When play finally ends, the players do what fans of any mysterious TV series do: they question, theorize, interpret and predict.  "Why did that happen?  Did it mean X?  I bet Y is up to Z!  Maybe when we go to A, we'll discover B!"

Indeed it is much like you describe, but you miss by half!  This process goes on during our play as well – in fact it is the central engine.  The key is that it all happens not from an objective stand point but rather from a restricted/limited/subjective point of view.  IOW these questions and thought processes are restricted to that of our individual character's perspective.

Silmenume wrote:
Rules that foster character POV . . .
Source material is everything!  . . .  History!  Maps!  Relationships!  Social institutions and mores ...and of course juicy conflict . . .
Critically important - avoid offering absolutes . . .

Silmenume wrote:
Getting players to engage in “post-game talk” shouldn't be that difficult if one has run an engaging session.  Like in your example above, the hunger to fill in the blanks should be there after an exciting game.  That being said, as the GM, you can start the process by asking probing questions of the players about the night's game.  Ask the players if they have any questions.

Silmenume wrote:
. . . nearly all games end with a big climatic ending (the easiest being a battle) but then end the game before all the lose ends are tied up.  Its the old show biz adage of, “always leave 'em wanting more.”  You don't want a session to end at a dead halt.  Its a terrible energy killer.  Momentum is your friend.  Use it.  Exploit it ruthlessly!  Remember what I said about absolutes?  A sharp conclusive ending is a type of absolute.

Silmenume wrote:
“Pre-game talk” is a little tougher, because you need games to have been played to have something to talk about.  As the GM the easiest way to get this talk going is again to ask players probing questions about their characters.  However, ask the questions in such a manner that the player is required to consider the answer from his character's perspective.

Silmenume wrote:
Have what they say matter.

Silmenume wrote:
There is a saying that I am going to mangle, but it goes something like this, “The media is the message.”  Don't have a system that claims that it is all about living/experiencing the Dream and then have 200 pages of mechanics with only a paragraph on how you want the players to play the game.

Silmenume wrote:
I'm going to cut my reply here and address the remainder of your questions in a follow up post.

Silmenume wrote:
So you seen that even before the GM “strung me along” he was already adding to the situation making it more intense.  He was already adding his “flourishes”, as it were.  It's not as if the GM suddenly starting mucking with the scenario to make it more intense, he was actively working it all night!