Do you remember that little experiment I was planning? You know the one where I was going to thrust the socially reticent player into the collaborative story-telling spotlight. How did it turn out your wondering? Hmm I guess about as well as having some kind of rectal exam. Overall, it was one of the more garbled, incoherent, garbage sessions I have ever run.
As I dissect the session in my head several factors come into play that contributed to this massive steaming pile of a session. The scene began with the players climbing out of the Tarek pit of pleasure after killing the pack of rabid –insert name for a Dark Sun lizard type creature- and earning the right to walk amongst the Tareks without being killed on sight. I gave a brief history of the Tareks transmitted through song by the head shaman during a campfire on the eve of the “Great Hunt”, a kind of Tarek bar mitzvah where they send the young out into the desert to slay a great beast and claim their place as an adult in the society. The song told of the great Tarekian empire during the green times and how society was split into three castes (warrior, shaman, and tinkerer/engineer). Much knowledge was lost as the empire was shattered during the brown times and Ranjaat’s racial cleansing war.
The newly reformed “empire” consists of several of the elder houses and the conclave of shamans. The major player’s involved were the Emperor, head Shaman, Tar Ugu (a former pc), and the Tarek player’s hidden brother. Each major npc had some motivations and possible moves. In terms of the emperor I went with the Son of Mogh story line from STNG where he had falsely accused the Tarek player’s father of selling the newly reborn empire out to the sorcerer king Kalak, thereby seizing control of the empire and having the player’s father executed and house stricken from the stories.
So what went wrong? Well overall my mood was a little off as I had just gotten word that I would not be accepted into medical school for the fall. I was a little bummed and it kind of took some wind out of my sails. Now in the grand scheme of life this is not a major disappointment. I already have a doctorate in clinical psychology and a full time job plus a part-time private practice, so it’s not like I am in my mid-twenties and trying to figure out what to do with my life or stuck in some dead end job that I loathe. I also only applied to one school so I new the odds were slim. None the less I was a little bummed with a sense of loss at missing out on a new challenge. So blabity blah blah basically I was a little flat.
I also think I didn’t frame the scene as well as I could have in terms of layout and positioning of the NPC’s and Tarek faithful. This made the exploration at the beginning of the night a little awkward as things became jumbled with people going off and talking to different factions. It also made coming up with a plan or strategy on how to deal with any potential threats or desired shenanigans more difficult and less clear. Sometimes I forget how dependent we have become on maps and tokens in 4th edition, particularly when playing online, to set the scene adequately compared to the olden days. I can get a little lazy and forget to put tokens out to help frame the scene. Often this is because I haven’t planned anything out, partly due to said laziness and partly due to a desire to be reactive to player choice.
Now in terms of the socially reticent player who I thrust into the narrative limelight, he reads this blog and was game for it but….perhaps it was a bridge to far and we need more baby steps and supportive coaching. In improv terms he kept blocking himself at every turn, it was literally like he was pulling a gun on himself while shouting no. In one instance he stated that he was going to intimidate the emperor and before I could say anything he stated that wouldn’t work because the emperor was un-inimitable. He also had some good ideas but they mostly came off as incoherent and not fully formed. He had established that he was going to use the inherent psionic link that Tareks have to do something but then abandoned what he had started (later I would learn that he wanted to see if a member of the tribe had any memories of the betrayal that would be helpful). He eventual just rushed up and slapped the emperor which then prompted a battle royal in the middle of the camp that essentially ended with him being dead..again (unconscious and the emperor threatening to coup de grace him if the others didn’t stand down). In talking with him after the game he explained his intent wasn’t to fight the emperor but it was more of a klingon challenge type thing. Which my response was “awesome but how would I know that unless you tell me”. I think I really needed to ask more questions to try and draw his ideas out, but like I said I was a little flat. I think this is important to remember when trying to impose collaborative story telling on less experienced players or those that it doesn’t come as naturally to.
Overall, I also think I need to be more prepared in terms of potential skill challenges, even though I loathe them. At a minimum I need to think/be prepared for the use of skills to overcome challenges or adjudicate player driven hi-jinks on the fly. I feel like I have sort of hit the proverbial wall in terms of running the campaign and need to bear down and push through it. I figure I have 6 to 8 session left to wrap everything up for the end of the heroic tier and I need to end strong…or at least crawl through the finish line like one of those depleted nut jobs at the end of an Iron Man Triathlon.
Reticent Tarek here. Your analysis fits for me, oh MiddleAged One. Would that I could attempt this narrative role-playing test (Oh, did I use the word “test”? A pseudo freudian slip, which just occurred to me as I wrote this. Part of my incoherence – which I know you understand, but it’s helpful for me to actually write it out, as I strive to understand it myself – was a frame of mind similar to being in an exam.)
And I am far more confident with written communication than verbal. If I could have played the game via written text, I *may* have made more sense. Not a guarantee, but it would have moderated my exam-like jitters. In fact, I had written some ideas down prior to the game, and felt quite excited about them.
Unfortunately, when I tried to express these ideas by way of role playing (rather than just dumping the information on everyone, which I thought might fit the dreaded metagaming category), I was dismayed to find that nobody played along as I had anticipated. Me mates role-played in response; but in ways which appeared – in my admittedly anxious mind – to be effectively shutting the door on my beloved ideas.
Here’s where the inexperienced player needed coaching, as you suggested. The problem was, nobody at the virtual table is telepathic in real life. Nobody knew that I had prepared some ideas, or that I was now in a bind, because I did not know how to adjust on the fly, in order to salvage my ideas. It seemed at the time like all my ideas – which I felt some pride in creating – were quickly getting suctioned out the bottom of the toilet bowl before my eyes.
And here’s where I may have been waving a gun and shouting “No!” Fueled by anxiety, I often try to meet standards, whether I have an idea of how to do so, or not. In this case, the standard was set by my observation of skilled and experienced players role-playing their way through many games, in a seemingly effortless, roll-with-the-punches fashion. As my flushed ideas raced out to the big sewer system in the sky, I told myself that I should roll with the punch. I also expected myself to do so via role-play, rather than stopping the game to say, “Uh. Guys? I had a bunch of ideas which don’t seem to be working. I’m not sure what to do next.”
I attempted to role play, as I have observed everyone else in the game do. It did not flow as smoothly as I have observed in games to date. So, having done some online review of things Klingon to prepare for this game, my frustrated brain jumped on an idea I had noticed in my digital travels. A backhand strike is a Klingon challenge for a fight to the death.
The Tarek emperor was not surrounded by a wall of armed guards. We were beneath his notice, really. Having felt consistently frustrated by everything I had tried in this game, I thought that striding up to the emperor to issue a challenge could not be any worse than any of my other plans.
So in a sense, it was a fairly authentic action. I was truly feeling frustrated, and that scratched the itch. It also ended with me not just on death’s doorstep, but pretty much sprawled across the threshold.
On a positive note, everyone has been urging me to try a berserker for the last half-dozen games. I rolled-up a berserker with the character builder, and I like what I see. It won’t do anything to help my role-playing; but it defends like a knight, which I did play briefly in the past, and liked a lot.
Now I just need to remember to pause and say, “Uh. Guys?”
Brickyard Lot here, amigo, to throw my considerably bone-headed support behind your continued efforts at collaborative storytelling. Some tips:
1. Dave, Brian, Jason, and I have been collaboratively telling stories for, well, in some cases years. I dare say we can “read” each other and where any particular narrative is going and help each other get there. That’s just practice and experience really. Know this: If we’re sure of what you’re doing, you can count on us backing whatever fool thing comes out of your gob without question. That’s how we roll. We’re here to support you. So don’t be afraid to fuck up and like you said, “Uh, guys,” will clue us in if we ain’t gettin’ it.
2. Caring about in-character, out-of-character, metagaming or any of that shit is totally unnecessary, harmful even. Those’re just words people with outdated ideas use to try and tell you how /they/ want you to roleplay. Use of out-of-character speaking or meta knowledge are useful tools to build stories and don’t let some /other/ tool tell you different. And while I’m on a drunken rant, combat /is/ roleplaying. If you ever hear someone say “I’m into roleplaying more than combat,” translate it as: “Hey guys, I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about, so don’t listen to me.” Anytime you take an action that your character would also likely take given context, you’re roleplaying, whether that’s swinging a sword or wooing the princess. And that can be in first person, third person, gamespeak or whatever you like as long as you get your point across. If someone says that ruins their “immersion,” tell them to stick it right up their meta-hole. “Immersion” is a /feeling/ and /they/ control that, not you. If you could control people’s feelings, you’d be banging Hollywood starlets, not playing D&D.
3. Watch out for blocks. An improvisational block is when an idea is offered and someone shuts it down. Sometimes this is completely unintentional, even for experienced improvisers. (Sometimes it can be done for comedic purposes, then they can make a counteroffer.) You can screw up and even block your own ideas. Wherever possible, try to say, “Yes, and…” to people’s ideas, backing whatever they say and, if you like, adding your own ideas to it. If they’re using “Yes, and…” too, they’ll accept your additions and add their own. It’s a very positive way of moving the game forward. It’s asking how we /can/ do something rather than why we /can’t./ That’s very powerful in RPGs. If you’ve ever seen a group of nerds discuss how to get through a trap-filled hallway for 30 minutes until they’re sucking down inhalers, you’ll know those people don’t know the power of “Yes, and…” Pity them.
4. Don’t sweat the plot. Because there isn’t one. A lot of players are hesitant to establish details on their own because they’re afraid it will interfere with the plot or some other aspect of DM prep. Well, good ol’ MiddleAgedDM doesn’t write plots anymore. He creates dynamic locations, gods bless ‘em. So as long as you’re not breaking the prep of that location (“Wow, it’s snowing now, here, on Athas! Weee!”), go nuts. It’s our story to write as we play, not the DM’s story for us to experience through the lens of our characters. It’s less work for the DM this way and arguably a lot more fun for us because our choices really matter.
Brickyard might have had a 5th suggestion for you, but he can’t count that high. In conclusion, we got your back, buddy. You can count on us for that. Also, for dick jokes. So get out there and break a leg.
I did get out there and break a leg! Or rather, the Tarek emperor broke it – along with a grocery list of other bones and vital organs – when I was reduced to a quivering pulp at the end of the last game
But seriously amigo; I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: you’re not bone-headed. You’re a frikkin’ Yoda of gaming. Or, if you’d rather not be all shrivelly and green, a frikkin’ Obi-Wan of gaming (the younger, McGregor version of course).
I appreciate all the advice. Watch for multiple “Yes, and…”s, blatant and shameless metagaming blather, and creative-but-reasonable plot candy in our next game. Oh, and of course, the occasional, “Uh, guys?”